by Bonnie Lamer
Chapter 12
“Ow! Stop it!” a male voice cries.
I can’t see who is saying it or why because I’m too short to see over the crowd at the market. Kallen’s grim expression means he can. “What is it?”
“Unrequited love,” he responds, grabbing my hand and tugging. I barely have time to put the scarf down I was looking at.
In the center of the crowd is an extremely angry Fairy who I believe just punched her husband or boyfriend in the face. That fact that he’s lying on the ground holding his bleeding nose is my biggest clue. “Stand up,” the female Fairy demands.
The Fairy on the ground asks the obvious question. “So you can hit me again?”
“Yes.” I like her frankness.
“I am certain we can resolve whatever this is without more violence,” Kallen tells her. If he’s not careful, she’s going to punch him in the face. I know Kallen. He won’t hit anyone female and I’m not strong enough to take her. She has a good five inches and fifty pounds on me. I would need to use magic and using magic on a Fairy would not win me any popularity contests. Still. “Look, we can either resolve this with words or I can resolve it with magic,” I inform her. See, no diplomacy skills whatsoever.
The Fairy narrows her eyes at me. I see the second she realizes who I am. “Princess,” she says with a bow of her head. When she lifts her face to me again, she doesn’t look any less homicidal. She jabs a finger in the direction of the male Fairy with the bloody nose. “He told my sister he loved her.”
“Are they hand-fasted?” Kallen asks.
“Well, no.”
“Then your sister is fortunate enough to learn now of his character,” Kallen says. Seems reasonable enough to me.
The female Fairy’s voice grows louder. “Her heart is broken!”
“What do you think beating him up is going to do for you sister?” I ask, genuinely curious. If her sister is in love with him, does she really want him lying bloody in the street? Maybe, I guess.
“I do love her,” the male Fairy claims. Since his nose is probably broken it sounds more like ‘I oo ove er.’
I shake my head. “You really don’t want to argue that point right now.”
Kallen holds out a hand and helps the guy up. “Go home,” he tells him. He should probably lock his door when he gets there.
With a furtive glance in the female Fairy’s direction, he nods and power walks away. I could stop him and heal his nose, but I don’t. Most likely, he deserves his injuries to some degree. After all, why would he tell someone he loved her if he didn’t really? “Are we good here?” I ask. I get a curt nod and the female Fairy disappears in the opposite direction of the male. I bet she doubles back when she’s sure we won’t see her. I hope bloody nose guy is fast.
The rest of the morning passes without incident. Fairies continue to ask Kallen and me what the plan is. The only thing we can offer them is the sanctuary of the palace and my sleep spell. Anxiety is high. Apparently, this third night claims men who may love, but not strongly. No one wants to talk about tomorrow or the next night. That includes me.
Around noon, Kallen asks, “Are you hungry?”
I consider my queasy, nervous stomach. “Not really.”
“For the love of god!” Taz exclaims. “Are you freaking trying to starve me to death?”
“Yes,” I tell him. If he could get away with it, he’d be gnawing on my ankle about now. “Felix, are you hungry?”
Felix does a Tasmanian devil shrug. “I could eat.”
“Okay.”
Taking pity on Taz, I ask Kallen, “Where is the croissant place?”
“Two streets over.” We begin walking in that direction.
“Finally, the wanker knows something useful.” He is so lucky Kallen doesn’t understand him. It is amazing how fast his little legs can move when he wants something, though. He beats us to the café.
Taz is right. The croissants are delicious. Flaky, buttery pieces of heaven with chocolate in the middle. These may be more fattening for him than the bacon Tabitha is constantly dishing out to him. I need to limit my Familiar’s access to this place. It strikes me how nice it is to think of something as mundane as Taz’s weight. With the safety of the realm balancing on my shoulders, my brain needs little vacations from time to time into the world of the mundane.
The Universe hates me. I swear it does. Every time I have a thought like that it comes after me like a stampeding of rabid weasels. Several voices call out at once from the street. “Princess Xandra! Prince Kallen!”
Kallen and I leave our unfinished croissants on the café table and rush outside. Even Taz leaves some crumbs untouched. We follow the crowd rushing toward the center of the village. Shoving our way through the gathering Fairies, we soon find ourselves in the heat of mob mentality. In the center of the group, several Fairies are circling one person while the crowd tries to goad them into action. It is not another Fairy falling prey to their anger. Fairies all have black hair and green eyes. This woman has fire red hair and eyes the color of polished silver. Looking more closely, I can see tiny slits in her neck that suspiciously resemble gills.
“What are you doing here?” Kallen demands. He grabs the Siren by the arm and tugs her in my direction. This does not make the mob happy. They want their justice.
“I have come to warn you,” the trembling Siren says. “I am not of Irena’s clan.”
Not of Irena’s clan? I remember now. Arie told us there were Sirens who weren’t homicidal maniacs. They helped capture Irena and her followers. If she is telling the truth, we need to get her out of here before the crowd uses her as a scapegoat. If she’s not telling the truth, well, we’ll just have to risk it.
There is no way Kallen and I are going to talk down this mob. Every ounce of fear and anger they are feeling is pouring out of them with each shout for blood. If we stay much longer, there will be violence. As soon as Kallen and the Siren are close enough, I reach out and touch his arm. He has a tight grip on the Siren. Taz and Felix have figured out what I’m going to do and both of them move closer until they are touching me. Just as the first object is thrown at the Siren, I teleport us out of the village. Right into Dagda’s office.
The surprise on his face when we suddenly appear with a Siren in tow is priceless. I wish I had a camera. “What? How?” are his only intelligible words.
“Uncle, you must send Naja and her staff to the village,” Kallen tells him. “There is trouble brewing and it is about to explode.”
Without hesitation, Dagda calls out, “Sindri!”
Sindri is at the door in a heartbeat. It takes him exactly half a second to figure out who we have with us. He begins to back away. “Sire?”
“Tell Naja she is needed in the village,” Dagda orders. He looks at us. “I assume the entire village knows she is here?”
“If they do not, they soon will,” Kallen acknowledges.
Before Sindri leaves to find Naja, Dagda says, “Also, increase security around the palace. Other than Naja, you are to keep this from everyone else in the palace.”
“Y-yes, Sire,” Sindri stammers. He spins on his heels and gets as far away from us as he can in the shortest amount of time possible. I’ve never seen Sindri move so fast.
“Now,” Dagda says, giving us his undivided attention. “Tell me what the hell is going on here.”
I glance at the Siren who is obviously petrified and then back to my father. “She says she isn’t with Irena and that she came to warn us.”
Dagda scowls. “Warn us of what? We already know we are under attack.”
Finding her voice again, the Siren says, “You do not know the extent Irena is willing to go to seek revenge.”
Dagda sits back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. “Then please, enlighten us.”
The Siren glances around the room, assessing each of us. “What assurances do I have for my safety?”
“None,” Dagda growls.
I shake my head. “Th
at’s a great way to get her to talk,” I mutter, earning me the evil eye from my father.
Turning to face the Siren, I say, “I will protect you as long as you are who you say you are. If I find out this is a ruse to give Irena access to the goings on inside the palace and the village, I will do worse things to you than the mob in the village was contemplating.”
I must be getting better at threat making because the Siren’s eyes widen in terror. “You are the Witch Fairy.”
I thought she knew that already. Who else can teleport? “Yes, I am.” To my utter amazement, the Siren falls to her knees and bows low enough her forehead touches the floor. Well, this is awkward. “Um, what are you doing?” I ask.
Without lifting her head, she says, “It is customary to bow before the presence of greatness.”
Awkward just took a wrong turn down what the hell and found itself at a dead end in you’ve got to be kidding me town. “Will you please stand up? You’re making me uncomfortable.”
The Siren scrambles to her feet. “My apologies.”
“If you are done adoring my daughter,” Dagda drawls, “can we get on with this? Why are you here?”
“First, what’s your name?” I ask.
“I am Zyrene,” she says with a low bow. At least she doesn’t go down on her knees this time.
“What can you tell us of Irena’s plan?” Kallen asks.
“I-I…” Zyrene stammers. Her face is ashen and she is suddenly unsteady on her feet. Before she can finish her thought, her knees buckle and her body becomes slack. Kallen reaches out and catches her before she can slip all the way to the floor. She has fainted.
“That was helpful,” I sigh. I would feel more compassion about her fainting if I knew for certain she is truly here to provide us with knowledge against Irena. And if she had already imparted said information.
“Where should I put her?” Kallen asks.
Dagda stands and rounds his desk. He reaches out and opens Zyrene’s eyelid. Her eyes are rolled back and the silver has disappeared leaving only the white of her eyeballs. She looks like a zombie. Hmm, I wonder what would be worse, the Siren attack or a zombie apocalypse. I guess both would suck equally.
“Bring her to my sitting room,” Dagda says, indicating a door at the far end of his office which leads to his private sitting room.
As if she weighs nothing at all, Kallen swoops up the Siren and strides toward the door. I rush ahead to open it for him. He walks to a chaise lounge and sets her down. She is so beautiful with her high cheekbones and delicate, straight nose. Her lips are a perfect bow and are naturally red. Not as red as her hair, but close. It’s no wonder men are willing to die for her race. The possibility of getting close to so much beauty would be hard to resist. Then again, the men in the village were doing a pretty good job of resisting her. Or were they? As I think about it more, I realize that the ones in the mob calling for violence were female. Many of the males were simply staring open mouthed at the Siren.
“Oh god,” I moan. “Male Fairies are going to try to get to her, aren’t they?”
Lips set in a grim line, Kallen nods. “That is why Dagda told Sindri to keep this quiet. Once it is discovered she is here, the males who have had a hard time resisting the Siren call will be drawn to her.”
“So, she could be a spy sent by Irena in the hopes of both gathering information and coaxing Fairies to their death.”
“Yes.”
“Tricky.”
Frowning, Kallen says, “What I do not understand is how she is awake during the day. Sirens must rest while the sun is up. It is built into their DNA to rise only at dusk and they must retire at dawn.”
“They’re kind of like vampires then,” I muse.
Kallen’s lips slide up on one side. “The creatures of lore who cannot tolerate sunlight. Other than the cravings for blood, yes, that is a good analogy.”
“They may not drink blood, but they do something just as deadly,” I say.
“I would like to know how the hell she managed to stay awake myself,” Dagda says. “Not to mention walking in the sunlight to the village.”
I had no idea Sirens couldn’t move around in the daytime. I thought their magic was simply more powerful at night. “A spell of some kind?” I offer.
Kallen shakes his head. “I do not sense any unusual magic.”
“Other than Siren magic?” I ask.
His frown is back. “Actually, I do not sense any magic. It is as if her Siren magic is somehow dormant, undetectable.”
“Forsaken,” a faint voice says.
We all stare at the Siren who is now stirring. “What?” I ask. I’m so good at interrogations.
When her eyes open again, I am struck by how silver they are. I am only distracted from them when she speaks again. “I have forsaken my Siren magic.”
My turn to frown. “How do you forsake your magic? Isn’t it a key part of you?” Granted, there have been times I wanted to do the same thing.
Zyrene nods then puts a hand to her forehead. “It weakens me.”
“Why did you forsake your magic?” Kallen asks. He is far from trusting the creature before him.
Her words are so soft, I can barely hear them. “So I can live apart from those who wish to do harm against other races.”
My curiosity gets the best of me. “The gills on your neck are a dead giveaway in regards to you being a Siren. Where could you possibly live and not be hated?” Yes, I have disembarked from the tact train.
A faint smile touches Zyrene’s lips. “I live with my husband in the realm of the Merpeople. They have graciously given us a beautiful island to call home.”
Arie mentioned something to this affect. “Where is your husband now?”
All the light drains from Zyrene’s eyes. “He stayed with our children. He begged me not to come.” She lifts her eyes to me. “He thought you would kill me on sight.” Good lord, how bad is my reputation?
A snort travels up from the floor. “Like you have the balls to be a killer,” Taz smirks. “Though, you could probably talk someone to death.”
“Shut up,” I say, kicking my foot out at him.
Shrinking back against the chaise, Zyrene whispers, “My apologies.”
I roll my eyes. “Not you. My Familiar was making snide comments.”
Eyes wide now, Zyrene asks, “You have a Familiar?”
Guess Taz isn’t as famous out in the Universe as I am. “Unfortunately,” I simper.
“I know where you keep your real clothes. They’d make a great nest after I tore them into pieces,” Taz snarks. This time, I choose to ignore him. Though, I may want to consider putting locks on my drawers.
“Long story,” I tell Zyrene. “So, your husband didn’t want you to come but he was okay with you coming alone?” Kallen would be pissed if I didn’t let him come along. I know this from experience.
Zyrene shakes her head. “He did not know. I left while he was asleep.”
“I admit, you tell a good story,” Dagda interrupts. “Yet, you have said nothing useful to us. How do we stop Irena?”
“Stop her?” Zyrene echoes. “You cannot stop her.”
Affronted, I say, “Wait, you came to tell us fighting her is useless?”
“Now, she has some balls,” Taz quips from across the room.
“I do not know of a way to beat Irena. When my people tricked her in the past, we had the element of surprise on our side. She would never fall for such a trick again.”
Kallen turns to Dagda. “Should I put her in a holding cell or bring her back to the village?”
I know my husband. He would never send her back to the angry mob in the village. But Zyrene doesn’t know this. “No,” she begs. “I may not know how to stop her, but I do know what she seeks.”
Kallen cocks his head to the side and sizes the Siren up. “Then by all means, tell us what she seeks.”
“Complete annihilation of the Fairy race,” Zyrene says sadly.
I can’t help b
ut laugh. “How in the world would she manage that if she can only lure males to their death?”
“She has an army.”
“How large is her army?” Dagda asks, taking the Siren more seriously than I am yet. We already figured Irena would attack when our defenses are cut in half.
“While in captivity, her followers grew.”
I’m confused. “Are there male Sirens?”
Zyrene smiles. “No. Sirens must mate with other races. But all female children born of these unions are Sirens. Male offspring are of the race of their sires.”
She is speaking of this as if they are dogs breeding puppies. Mating, sires, offspring. Is romance dead in other realms? “Where did the males come from?” I can’t help but ask.
“When Irena was taken captive, there were many slaves living among the Sirens. Slaves it was impossible to free. Once they are under the Siren spell, they are lost forever to their kind.”
“And there isn’t much to do in captivity except build up your army,” I say, filling in the blanks. “Lovely.” Another thought hits me. “So, your husband is your slave?”
Zyrene shakes her head and says adamantly, “No. I met my husband after I forsook my magic.” Sure she did.
“Are these slaves warriors?” Kallen asks. He’s as disgusted by the whole idea of birthing their own army as I am.
Zyrene nods. “Most of them. They have trained these centuries and their offspring have trained. They are loyal to Irena and will die for her if they are called upon to do so.”
How come I don’t have minions? I could use a few thousand with all the trouble that comes my way. “Are they loyal simply because they’re under her spell?”
“Some,” Zyrene admits. “Others, especially the children of these matings, are loyal out of love.”
It seems it would be hard to love a mass murderer. Then again, back home there are serial killers on death row who get fan mail and sometimes adoring girlfriends and wives. I will never understand such things. I am quite content loving someone who is not a psychopath.
“So, her plan is to weaken the Fairy population by killing off half of it and declaring war on the other half,” Dagda sums up.