It took Lora two tries before her car started, its usual purr replaced with a tortured clunking sound, and she said a quick prayer to the ocean goddess to help her car reach the destination without breaking down. Asking her father for a ride would, quite frankly, be unbearable at this point. She would rather sprint two miles in the snow before asking him for help.
Besides, Lora didn’t plan on going to school like she’d told him. She planned on visiting Devin.
Though it sputtered once at the stop sign and threatened to challenge her dignity, Lora and the car made it to Devin’s cottage within minutes. School had already started, but Lora didn’t care. There were more important issues in her life than learning how to find the square root of a number.
Devin’s house remained the only home on a lonely stretch of beach, surrounded with perfectly placed sand dunes covered with ice plant. The home had no driveway. Lora had to park on the street and climb up a dune path lined with thick hempen rope. She then walked down the other side to the cottage nestled within the sandy dunes.
Lora heard Devin singing. The melody floated through her open window and spilled onto the sand surrounding the cottage. The ocean sang also, keeping harmony with the Guardian’s voice, and Lora breathed deeply before joining in. She removed her shoes as she hummed along with the forlorn tune, feeling the sand stick to her toes. Devin wouldn’t mind; her floors were usually sandy.
The door to the cottage stood open, so Lora slipped inside without knocking. Devin was aware she had arrived; she always knew, somehow.
She found Devin sitting on the floor, petting Penelope, a husky mix of some kind who had long white fur and huge paws. Penelope raised her head as Lora entered, wagging her tail in greeting before relaxing once again to enjoy Devin’s attentions.
“We’ve just returned from a stroll on the beach,” Devin said. “Penelope didn’t want to swim today. I think she sensed the loss.”
“So you heard?” Lora asked, kneeling down to stroke Penelope’s huge head. Devin gave her a sad smile.
“I felt her death early this morning, before the sun rose.” She became quiet. Of course, Lora realized. As Guardian, Devin’s abilities connected her to the entire clan. Devin sensed when they breathed, when they celebrated, when they suffered. Although she didn’t completely understand what the connection entailed, Lora hoped she might sense those things as well someday.
Lora knew the other clan members considered her unique. They often kept their distance, treating her with reverence and respect, even calling her “little Guardian” when she was a small child. Back then, the duties of a Guardian were foreign to her, but now the responsibilities on her shoulders were, at times, almost overwhelming. Lora wondered how Devin always appeared so calm. The Pacific Grove Sirens were her responsibility, and only a handful of Siren clans were left in the world, yet she treated each day as if it were a gift rather than a burden. Lora realized she would be in charge of keeping her clan safe one day, a contract which haunted her every moment. She would never be as good as Devin.
Devin used her nails to scratch Penelope’s stomach before gracefully rising to her feet. Her long gray hair fell down her back like water, and her feet were barefoot on the sandy floor. “Would you like something to drink? Tea, maybe?” Lora shook her head, and Devin removed only one mug from a hook attached to the white kitchen cabinets. “You found her?” she asked, causing Lora to shiver.
“Yes,” she whispered, driving back the horrific image. Her voice caught in her throat, and she started to cry. Devin stepped forward and enveloped Lora in her lithe arms, murmuring soft, unintelligible words. She smelled of sandalwood. “I answered the call this morning,” Lora said, her tone contrite. “I couldn’t help it.” Expecting a lecture, Lora held her breath and stepped back from the Guardian, her face downcast. “The call is so strong.” She stole a glance at Devin, surprised to see her smiling. Devin brushed a strand of hair away from Lora’s face. “Of course it is, Loralei, particularly for you. You will someday be Guardian, so the feelings within you are much stronger. They grow stronger now because you are so close to your transformation. You only await your counterpart.” Devin’s words were like a cleansing pool rushing over Lora’s body.
“So, not everyone else feels as I do?” she asked, her voice hesitant. “The other Sirens don’t feel the incredible longing I have whenever I hear the ocean?” Lora could not hide the relief in her voice. “All this time I was convinced my dad and Will, and even Fiona, were just ignoring the call! How come you never told me?”
Devin laughed, a musical sound, as she cupped Lora’s face in her hands. “You never asked, my dear. And all you have to do is ask.” Penelope, who had risen, followed Devin around the kitchen to receive an affectionate pat on the head. “Now,” she said, turning back to her tea, “we do have a very serious problem to discuss.”
Lora’s stomach felt heavy. For a moment, she’d been so happy, so relieved to realize her obsessions were perfectly normal, or as normal as someone who must one day protect their clan could be, that she’d forgotten about Victoria’s dead, bloodied body lying among the ice plant.
Devin grasped Lora’s hands and led her to a wooden table in the middle of the kitchen. “I want you to tell me everything,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “Every last detail.”
As it turned out, telling everything to Devin took a little over a half hour. Lora arrived at school to find a full student parking lot, with only a few available parking spaces. She parked next to Will’s car, because he usually parked at the back of the lot even when there were plenty of empty spaces near the front. Pulling her hood over her head to keep out the light rain, Lora hurried toward the stucco building. The dome-shaped library sat directly in front of her, and she could see the book stacks through the windows extending to the ceiling.
A small class of perhaps fifteen students sat at round tables inside the library. These students had no knowledge of the magic surrounding Pacific Grove. The humans in her town lived among one of the oldest mythological creatures still in existence, and their ignorance annoyed her. If her people weren’t forced to keep their identity a secret, then perhaps Sirens wouldn’t be hunted anymore. People might admire them; they might treat them like magical wonders. Lora was proud of her legacy; someday she would be the next Guardian and, despite the massive responsibility, Lora wanted their secret to be revealed to the world. The Clan would disagree, of course.
Shifting her backpack, Lora pursed her lips and hurried down the outside corridor, past the blue lockers and red banners. She checked in with the main office and spoke to the secretary. “Your dad already called you in late,” she said, clipping large stacks of papers together. “He is such a nice man.”
“Yeah,” Lora muttered as she left the stuffy office, returning to the cool outside corridor. “He’s so understanding.” She breathed in, filling her lungs with fresh air as she moved toward her English classroom. Far away she heard the hum of the ocean, which filled her with longing she almost couldn’t ignore. In an effort to escape its call, she hurried down the hall until she reached the classroom and jerked open the door.
The room fell silent. Everyone stared at her abrupt arrival. Lora gave a brief, embarrassed grimace before she slipped into her desk next to the long-paned window, making brief eye-contact with Will. They’d been best friends since they were twelve, despite their differences. His concerned expression didn’t alleviate her nerves.
Ms. Phillips, who had paused upon her entrance, continued the lecture.
Through the window, the heavy clouds continued to descend, creating a creeping green fog moving among the cypress and eucalyptus plants lining the school like tall giants. Lora imagined the fog surrounding the dead girl and shivered. Victoria would never commune with the sea again, or sing, or feel the pull of her Siren ancestors. Lora’s throat tightened and she rested her head in her hands. She co
uld clearly hear each sound in the room: the click of the chalk on the board, the quiet coughs of the boy who sat in front of her, the scratching of pencils on lined paper. Will sat behind her, and his presence gave her comfort. He no doubt sensed her anxiety, and she wondered how long she could avoid talking about the horrific events of the morning.
Lora raised her head to see her teacher drawing a timeline on the board. They were studying The Odyssey, and Ms. Phillips detailed Odysseus’ journey. Lora had memorized the story long ago, for her ancestors were a part of it. Odysseus, of course, survived the Siren’s song. He instructed his crew to plug their ears with bees’ wax, and the crew tied Odysseus to the mast so he could endure the pleasure of the Siren’s song without the deadly consequences. He was only one of two men in history, in fact, to pass a Siren and survive.
Bored, she turned away.
Her eyes scanned over the desks around her and rested on a picture of a ghastly woman with wild green hair, wrinkled skin and a body like a chicken. She recognized immediately what it represented, because her teacher had described this very creature only two days ago. The description was completely incorrect, of course. None of her teachers ever bothered to do their own research on the subject. They usually took Homer’s word for it.
The picture lay on Luke Pellum’s desk. Luke, a skinny boy who lacked maturity for an eighteen year old, wrapped his long fingers around his pencil. With swift strokes, he sketched and shaded the ocean around the creature. Underneath, he wrote Siren in thick letters. Offended, Lora clenched her teeth.
“You know,” she whispered, leaning toward Luke and glancing at her teacher to ensure she wasn’t heard, “that’s a good likeness of your girlfriend. How’d you get so talented?”
Luke smirked and crossed out the word Siren. He replaced it with Loralei.
Luke had made an innocent mistake, for he had no way of realizing he guessed correctly, but she couldn’t stop the heat from rising to her cheeks. Fuming, Lora closed her eyes. Deep down she understood her indignation bordered on ridiculous. Luke was nothing more than a naïve boy. But she wanted to sing, and fought back the urge, even though it held strong: stronger than when she’d been seaside this morning. From across the neighborhoods and tiny shore motels, Lora felt the ocean churning, brewing a melody. It entered her blood, heating it, fueling its fire.
Lora couldn’t stop the quiet hum from emerging. She didn’t want to stop it, even though her lack of restraint disappointed her clan already. And her father. And Will. Regardless, the tune simmered in her mouth and the song swelled from deep within her soul. It remained as much a part of her as her eyes, or her limbs. Even through her tight lips, the single note’s irresistible melody drew Luke in like an unsuspecting sailor. She couldn’t see the change, but the magic permeated the air around him. Luckily, girls occupied the other seats around her, so Luke was her only victim.
“Lora,” Luke hissed from across the aisle.
She didn’t respond to his call and snickered when she heard him push his chair back to stand.
Luke moved forward until he stood right beside her. Lora continued to ignore him.
“Mr. Pellum, is there a reason you’re no longer seated?” Ms. Phillips asked, pausing her lecture. The room became silent and twenty students focused on the pair of them. Luke’s eyes were wild with desire and his body leaned forward to lessen the distance between him and the Siren.
Lora knew her father would be ashamed of her actions, and would probably chastise her for exposing her abilities and endangering Luke. She also decided she didn’t care. Luke acted like a love-crazed imbecile, but he deserved it and she couldn’t help the smirk, which crept upon her lips.
“Sorry,” she said, flashing an apologetic expression to her teacher. For added effect, Lora shrugged and rolled her eyes, hoping to convey exasperation over Luke’s odd behavior. Ms. Phillips gave them a warning glare.
“Is there a problem, Miss Reines?”
Yes, there’s a huge problem. Luke is an insulting twit, I’m almost eighteen and still don’t have all my powers, and I just found the mutilated body of my Siren sister. Oh, and I’d rather be anywhere else but here right now.
But Lora rested her clenched fists on her desk.
“Sit down,” she said to Luke, who instantly obeyed. Ms. Phillips’ mouth opened in surprise at Luke’s obeisance, but resumed the lecture after an uncomfortable moment. Lora could feel Luke’s eyes boring into her head and glanced at the clock. The lingering effects should wear off soon. She’d only let out a hum, but she must have been angrier than she thought, because the charm had been immediate. Lora giggled when she recalled his ridiculous reaction of desire.
A sharp pain on her ankle broke her good mood. She stifled a gasp, whipping around to frown at her assailant. Ankle throbbing, Lora glared at Will.
“Stop,” he mouthed, turning his wide mouth into a frown. His gray eyes narrowed and bore into hers.
Lora lifted her chin and turned away, but she stopped laughing all the same. Her cheeks flushed a bit; Will’s disapproval made her feel guilty over getting caught. She hadn’t been thinking of him when the singing started. She only wanted to teach Luke a lesson.
Luke’s eyes soon cleared of their fervor and they blinked rapidly, shaking off the remnants of her seduction. The offensive picture still sat on his desk, however, and Lora breathed deeply, seeking control again from her rising indignation. The song she sang a few minutes ago continued to linger, sweet and honeyed on her tongue.
Luke fled for the door the moment the dismissal bell rang, as if sensing the danger, even though he no longer had any memory of the event. Grabbing her pencil, Lora slammed her notebook shut and gathered her belongings, shoving them into her backpack. She wanted to get out of the classroom before Will could confront her face to face, but her chances of escaping would be next to impossible. Will’s lectures were almost worse than her father’s, and after the day she’d had already, her mood had turned foul. Lora sensed Will standing right behind her, even though she couldn’t see him.
“Leave me alone,” she grumbled.
Will maneuvered around the desk to face her. Lora stood at five feet, seven inches, but he still towered above her, dark and dangerous in his anger. “Or what? You gonna sing me to death?”
“Jerk.”
He said nothing, but observed her with those stormy eyes, reducing her to a puddle of shame on the ground. What did he want? An apology? Groveling? She’d found a Siren dead and didn’t feel like she owed anyone anything. Instead, her mistakes were a constant disappointment to people she cared about. Her father, Devin, Will. She’d had enough of trying to be who they wanted. Lora knew she should tell Will about Victoria. Maybe then he would understand why she was so angry and not lecture her.
Lora dropped her backpack on the desk. “He drew an obscene picture.”
Will pursed his lips. “And the picture makes it okay to put his life in danger?”
“He wasn’t in danger,” she murmured, throwing him an angry glance as she put on her red coat, threw her backpack over her shoulder, and strode from the room. He stayed close behind, however; she could hear the jingling of keys in his pocket.
The cold morning struck her as soon as she stepped out the door, and Lora wondered how much the temperature had dropped since she’d arrived at school. The air felt at least ten degrees cooler, and it stung her face. Even though the classroom had been warm and the air felt refreshing, she resented its bitterness. While she normally welcomed the feeling, today it only served to remind her of Victoria’s stiff body. Students hurried by in both directions, pulling their coats to them, shielding themselves from the cold.
Will acted as if she’d tried to murder Luke, which Lora would never do to a human. “You understand the rules, Lora. More than anyone, you should follow them. You’re supposed to preserve them!” His deep voice
penetrated her, low and brooding. Two freshmen sauntered past them and beamed when they saw Will, who continued to glare at Lora and did not notice.
“Lora . . .” he began again, and she whirled to face him.
“I don’t need you to lecture me on the rules. The Clan, you, my dad, hell, everyone has been hammering them down my throat since I turned two. Don’t you think I worry about my responsibilities every day?” Her anger toward the monster who’d killed Victoria and her anger toward the Clan for holding her back overtook her.
“Besides,” Lora hissed, “from what I understand, you’re hardly a role model.”
She regretted the words the moment they left her mouth. The churning of the ocean faded into the distance. “Wait,” she said, reaching out her hand to touch his jacket, “I didn’t mean . . .”
“I know what you meant,” he snapped, his face darkening like the sea at night. Will ground his teeth, and Lora flinched at the sickening sound. “Enjoy your lunch.” He turned and strode down the hall, disappearing into the crowd of shivering students. Cringing at his harsh tone, Lora called out to him, but he kept walking. Her stomach twisted, and she felt sick.
How could she insult him after all the hurt and pain he’d experienced so many years ago?
The world slowed. Going after him now may not be the best move, she decided. More than likely, he needed time alone, time away from her. Lora stood, trying to decide what to do as her friend hurried away down the hallway.
Chapter Four
Will didn’t turn around. She’d figured he wouldn’t, but had dared to hope, anyway.
The hall began to clear of students who were making their way to the cafeteria. Lora turned the hurtful comment over and over in her mind as she reluctantly marched toward the large building at the end of the hallway, admonishing herself for her own stupidity. According to his aunt and uncle, Will had been withdrawn and depressed for over a year after he’d come to live with them. It took him a long time to start enjoying life after the incident.
Voices of the Sea Page 3