by Lora Edwards
“I am sure that can be arranged,” Ovidia said with a smile. “It is always nice to get attention from such a handsome man.”
The hippocampi on the left raised her head and gave a snort, leaning back to glare in Ovidia’s direction.
“I am not after your man, sister, just admiring your good taste,” Ovidia said cautiously. She knew hippocampi were relatives of the Irish kelpie, and she did not want to be dragged into the depths and drowned by a jealous water horse. She wasn’t sure if they shared that ability with their Irish cousins, but she didn’t want to find out.
Electra turned back around and continued to prance primly as she helped her mate pull the carriage. Ovidia looked up and saw the massive castle that awaited them. It was beautiful, made of white limestone, and it appeared to glow against the sky. It looked nothing like the fortress where she grew up, but a castle was a castle, and Ovidia felt a little tug of homesickness. She really needed to make going home for regular visits more of a priority.
“Welcome to our home,” the king said enthusiastically as he helped Ovidia down from the carriage. “We will give you some time to freshen up then we’ll meet for dinner in the great hall. After dinner is soon enough to deal with the unpleasant nature of your visit,” the king said before leaving them in the care of a steward.
Ovidia looked around her room. It was fit for a princess. The space was kept cozy by a fireplace, the flame dancing cheerfully in the hearth. It balanced the cold-toned walls and the constant wet air they experienced due to being so close to the sea. She put her bag down and went about the tasks of readying herself for dinner with the king. Unlike her best friend Teagan, Ovidia didn’t mind the numerous outfit changes required during royal functions. She quite liked it.
Opening the wardrobe, she found a rainbow of different formal dresses all done in the diaphanous style of the early Greeks. It was thoughtful that they had provided them for her, and it was lovely to be able to honor them by matching their style.
Ovidia chose a dress swirling with the different colors of the sea. The bodice of the gown was a deep sapphire, the colors swirling down the skirt until it was the crystal blue of the Caribbean at the hem. She paired it with delicate silver sandals in the same style, the laces reaching up to her knees, the silver winking and dancing as she moved.
Ovidia then turned to her face and hair, selecting jewelry with the precision of a general selecting his troops. The task completed, she turned to the full-length mirror. Finally she placed the small tiara atop her hair, marking her station.
Grabbing a silky shawl in the same silver as her shoes, she went to the door. Before she could open it, there was a knock on the other side. Opening it, she saw Erik standing there.
Ovidia had prepared a witty comment, but then she looked at him and it died on her lips. He was magnificent, decked out in traditional formal wear. The dress of the ladies may have gone back to the Greeks and Romans, but the men were all modern.
The suit fit him as if it had been expertly tailored just for him. His large shoulders filled out the dove grey shirt nicely, and the dull silver color complemented his blond hair while bringing out the blue in his eyes. He looked dashing, and Ovidia felt her mouth water.
Her eyes climbed back up to his, taking in the smirk that rested on his lips.
“If you’re done ogling me, I’ve come to escort you to dinner,” he said with a smile and a chuckle.
Ovidia opened her mouth to deny it then promptly shut it again. No use arguing; she had been ogling him.
She took Erik’s arm and assumed her haughty expression.
He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “You look fabulous in that dress.”
In fact, she looked irresistible. The Grecian fabric clung to her every curve while also covering her so one got an idea what was underneath while her secrets were left hidden. She had curled her hair and left it to float behind her, a golden flow down topped with her tiara a sapphire surrounded by diamonds. He had barely been able to cover his reaction and was pleased that she’d been so embarrassed by her own reaction to him that she hadn’t noticed his sharp intake of breath when she opened the door.
He wanted her for now and always, but he needed to keep that bit to himself for the time being lest he scare her off.
It was good to let her have the upper hand, to let her think that if—no, when things changed between them, it was her idea.
He put out his arm, and she placed her hand in the crook of his elbow.
“Shall we go to dinner,” he asked with a dramatic gesture down the hall. She gave a very un-Ovidia like giggle and nodded. She had missed this as well. Erik was a serious man, but there were hints of playfulness in him. Maybe after all of this was over, they could talk about what had happened and the possibility of a future between them. He seemed to like her company, and they had once been the best of friends. It was a thought that would be better to look at during a later time, when there was not so much at stake.
Walking down the hall, they entered a beautiful dining room. The walls were painted with beautiful frescoes featuring underwater grottos and bare-breasted women with glittering tails.
Ovidia looked down and gasped. The floor was entirely made of glass, and underneath her was the cool blue of the water. Sea creatures danced among plants that waved in the gentle ocean currents.
It was all she could do to stop herself from lying down, pressing her nose to the glass, and watching the tranquil scene below her feet.
“Magnificent, isn’t it? The life teaming below. We Sirens like to be near the water. You may have noticed the castle sitting near the sea, but that is not quite right. Most of the castle sits directly over the ocean, parts of it completely underwater. In fact, if you open the drapes of your room, you will find not sunshine, but watery depths. Look overhead and you will see the same.”
Ovidia had not bothered to look at the ceiling of her room or open the drapes. She had been preoccupied with dressing for the evening—and if she was honest with herself, the lovely dresses in the wardrobe—so she had only glimpsed her surroundings. Once there wouldn’t have been a single detail that would have escaped her notice. It was sloppy, and sloppy could get you killed.
Ovidia nodded toward the Siren king. “You have a lovely home. I am sorry we have had to meet under such sad circumstances.”
“It is my dearest wish to have my daughter back. When this is over and you have returned her to me, we will have a feast to end all feasts and you will come, and it will be a joyful time to make up for the sorrow we are experiencing at this moment.” He looked at Ovidia with determination in his eyes.
He was not allowing for the possibility that they would fail, that his daughter would not be returned to him. It was not an outcome he would entertain. Ovidia looked deeply into the man’s eyes, and then and there she vowed to bring his daughter back to him, even if she had to sacrifice her own life to keep this vow.
As if he read her thoughts in her eyes, he gave her a small nod.
“You must be hungry after this long and trying day. Let’s enjoy our meal and then we can discuss what we know of the kidnapping.”
“Yes, we will discuss strategy tonight, and tomorrow we will set sail again. We had planned to stay for three days, but we will set sail early. We will find your daughter and we will bring her home,” Ovidia said, the vow she had taken shiny in her eyes, the sword at her side illuminated for a few moments. The die had been cast; the vow set. Ovidia would now either find the Siren princess and bring her home or die trying. She had made a vow, one she could not break. If she tried, she would wither and die, spending her afterlife in Nifhleimr, the Norse version of purgatory, unable to take her place in Valhalla with the other warriors, doomed to spend eternity floating in the nothingness.
Erik bowed to the king as they took their seats at the table. “I hope you know what you’re doing. You know what it is to make a vow—you must find her or die trying, otherwise you have just doomed yourself to float in Nifhleimer foreve
r,” Erik said, his voice strained as he stared into Ovidia’s eyes, trying to understand how she could have done this.
“Look at him, Erik—he needs hope. A parent should never have to worry about outliving their child, no matter the age of that child. He is hurting, and declaring the vow will sharpen my senses and my abilities, which will help me bring her home. It is not the first time I have declared a vow on a mission, and it might not be the last,” Ovidia replied in a fierce whisper as the first course of dinner was brought out and placed before them.
Ovidia turned from him and engaged in conversation with one of the other princesses who sat beside her. She ignored him for the rest of the dinner and sampled plate after plate that came from the kitchen, complementing the chef after each dish.
Erik had to admit that she was right about the food—it was delicious. It ranged from a cold lobster starter to ceviche, and finally a sea bass stuffed with rice and almonds. It was one of the most delicious meals he had enjoyed in some time, and even the cold shoulder he was currently getting from Ovidia wasn’t dimming the pleasure he got from the food.
“I am glad to hear you enjoyed the delicious meal. Our chef has a way with seafood,” said the Siren king, a small smile coming onto his face. “We will now retire to the sitting room and get down to the business you all came for.” He turned, the small smile slipping from his lips as a haunted look crept into his eyes.
Once they were all settled in the sitting room with after-dinner drinks of their choice, Ovidia took the lead.
“King Merrik, can you tell us the events of the day your daughter was taken?”
A small sigh left him and he seem to slump, leaving him looking fragile and worn down.
“The day started like any other. It was early and I was in the office taking care of some correspondence when one of our sentinels burst into my office and reported that we were being attacked. I jumped out of the chair and ran to the residential wing where my family was located.
“When I arrived, the other girls were safe, but Delphine was gone. Her rooms were a mess and it was obvious that she had put up quite the fight.” He stopped, taking a shuddering breath and moving his gaze from the floor to Ovidia’s face. “There on the floor in her room was a small spot of blood, and this.” He brought something out from his suit jacket and handed it to her.
It was a small dart with feathers on the end. It looked like the sort that was used in a blow gun, the tip sharp and gleaming in the light.
“They did not take any of her jewelry or other priceless objects that were in her rooms, just her. They left no note and disappeared as quickly as they had come. Their ship was anchored out in the bay but by the time we were able to get to it, they had sailed past the barrier. We followed, but it was as if the ship had disappeared,” he said, bowing his head again.
“There was not a trace of them,” Ovidia asked incredulously.
“None. It was as if the sea had opened up and swallowed them,” he replied sadly.
“They must have had some supernatural help to disappear like that.” Ovidia looked to Erik and Blackbeard, who nodded in agreement.
“Why do you think she was taken?” Ovidia looked to King Merrik.
The Siren king smiled sadly. “I think it had to do with her mother.”
Ovidia frowned and waited for King Merrik to continue.
“Delphine’s mother was human. She washed up here after a shipwreck, and I foolishly fell in love with her. I set aside my wife and took this human woman as a mate. It was many years ago, and I was young and foolish. Delphine is the result of that union, the only result.”
“What happened to her mother,” Ovidia asked, though she suspected she knew the answer.
“Her mother left the islands. She grew bored of me, our child, and the simple life we lead here. She built a raft and floated out to sea. The Sirens that guard our island saw that she was picked up by a ship going by—we are just out of range of a popular trading route. She would have no memory of this place once leaving it. Unless you have a spelled object, you would not remember us.”
“How do you think the men knew this island existed and which daughter to take,” Ovidia asked.
“I do not know. I am hoping you can help me uncover that. There have been few outsiders who have visited here, and fewer that were allowed to mingle with our people. It has happened that we have had a few shipwrecked sailors wash up on our shores. We make sure they do not have any siren or mermaid blood, and then we have boats made for them, give them provisions, and send them on their way. The minute they pass the barrier, their minds are wiped clean of what they have seen.”
Ovidia stood and gave a slight nod to Erik. “Thank you, your highness. You have given us a lot to mull over. Perhaps we should see where she was taken, then we must return to the ship and resume our journey.” She bowed her head in deference to the king.
“Yes, I will show you, but please stay here for the night. Allow your men to rest, and you can depart at first light.”
Ovidia nodded, looking at Erik and Blackbeard and seeing them nod as well. It would not do to reject his hospitality, and this way the sailors could have a day of rest before setting out again.
They left the sitting room, moving through many identical hallways until Ovidia was hopelessly lost. She very much hoped someone would lead them back to their rooms as she didn’t believe there was any way she could find her way back herself.
“Here is her room. I am hoping you can find something in there that will point you in the right direction.” He opened the double doors and ushered them inside.
The interior had once been lovely, but it was obvious there had been a struggle there. Chairs and tables had been toppled, their contents strewn all over the floor. Glass glittered on the hardwood floor where something had been shattered. Ovidia had to give it to the girl—she hadn’t gone without a fight.
Walking farther into the room, they started to look for clues, thinking surely in all the struggle, the captor must have dropped something.
“Ovidia, I think I found something,” Blackbeard called out as he reached down toward something lying in the rubble.
“No don’t touch it! I may be able to get a glimpse of something from it.” The pale light of the empath burned in Ovidia, though not strongly. It was usually just an impression of a person, their emotions. It had served her well on the last mission where she was able to give a small boy the assurance that his new home would be better than the hovel he had come from. She had seen a brief glimpse of the life he would live if he went with the new family.
Ovidia picked her way over to where Blackbeard stood staring down at the object as if he was afraid it would vanish if he took his eyes off of it.
Ovidia reached his side and looked down. There on the floor was a man’s signet ring, the kind used to seal letters. It was a unique piece and would help to find the man they sought.
Picking it up and closing her eyes, Ovidia received flashes of the person. He was tall and strong with jet black hair and grey eyes. She saw glimpses of swirling party dresses and ballrooms, the familiar landscape of London. She felt the adrenaline of the chase, and the greed and envy he felt for the Siren. There was a glass tank, and she saw his purpose and intention.
He had known about the island, something about his grandmother…a diary. He had known how to find this place, how to bypass the Sirens on the rock, and which woman to take. He had called her family. He wanted to use her for some kind of experiment, and he was going to expose the supernatural world.
Ovidia allowed the ring to fall from her fingertips and into the handkerchief Erik had waiting. She was dizzy as she always was any time she got a vision, and this one had come through suprisingly clear. She wondered if it was the strength of the emotions swirling around the man that made it so vivid, his plan to exploit and enslave supernaturals. He was aware not only of the Sirens but of the other races of supernaturals as well. He had hunted them and added them to his menagerie. The Siren was to be hi
s pièce de résistance. He would get her back to England and then he would set his plan in motion.
Ovidia shook her head to clear it and looked at the king. “I think he took your daughter to England, and his plan is more extensive than we originally thought. This is not just about your daughter but all supernaturals. He has a plan to expose us to the world. He wants to enslave us to the humans, and he has a deep hatred of our kind. We need to find him before he carries out his plan.
“He is English, I saw that much, and he plans on taking her back to England. I think he has others of our kind trapped there,” she said, shuddering at the vision of the other beings wrapped in chains, their eyes dull and hopeless. “Your daughter was the jewel in his crown, so to speak. She was the last one he needed before he went through with his final plan.” Ovidia looked at Erik and then at Blackbeard.
“There is no time for rest. We need to get back to England.” She turned back to the Siren king. “Thank you for your offer of hospitality, but the situation is more dire than we originally believed and we need to start our journey back immediately.” Ovidia stared into his sad eyes and hoped they would be able to bring his daughter back to him. From the vision, it didn’t appear that the man wanted to harm his captives, just use them as pawns in his plan.
“Please go, rescue my daughter and stop this madman from causing any more damage,” King Merrik implored them. Ovidia vowed to wipe the haunted look from his eyes.
The group nodded and bowed to the king then hurried to their rooms to change and gather their things. Within the hour, they were again on the ship, sails unfurled and underway.
Ovidia went through the crew, making sure all still wore their medallions; they didn’t need a misunderstanding of the Sirens of the rock to cause their boat to wreck.
They sailed on calm seas and again passed the place where the Sirens sat. Ovidia steeled herself for the sound of their mournful melody. Despite the spell that protected them from succumbing to the sound, it still tugged at Ovidia’s heart.