Chapter 5: 5

My dreams were filled with haunted melodies that grew desperately loud in my ears as I sat up on the seat of the carriage.

I was unsure when I had fallen into a fitful slumber that had caused the cloak to have fallen completely off of my body while my limbs shook from the force of the nightmare, but the sun was nowhere to be seen as I blinked open groggy eyelids.

The nightmare was a horrid rendition of the memory I'd flashed back to in my rage from earlier the night before, but with Oren bearing my father's face as he shook me and bade me to remember, but I couldn't remember if there was nothing there.

Birds sang their canary songs into the crisp almost-morning air, and I shuddered while I tried to put those memories to bed.

They had no business muddying up my mind when I'd fallen asleep with a beast for a kidnapper, both literally and figuratively.

Yes, Oren had saved me from drowning in the pool with the Siren, but there had been an undeniable connection between the two of us, as if she shared a part of me that I didn't yet know existed.

As she sang the story of her capture to me, I felt her grief, her rage, her anguish.

Though dusk did not yet paint the sky in its ethereal violet and magenta rays, there was still an alabaster glow that set the rocks around me awash in a light that was sufficient to stumble around the rock pit in without tripping, though knowing me, I would find something to trip me sooner or later.

A pull was still tugging me back toward the pool, though.

Back to the Siren who had been wrongfully entrapped and doomed to spend eternity in agony.

Sirens did not die.

It didn't matter if they had no food source, no light, no anything—their curse was immortality and the gift of song to defend themselves so those who knew the secret to truly kill them would not be able to go about their journey of violence without meeting some resistance.

The Siren in the hot spring pool had fought her captors despite her song being useless on their ears.

She had fought and clawed, just as I had in the brothel where my sister was almost brutalized, on the old schooner ship where the sailors had torn my clothes from my body and almost ravaged me on the deck smelling of putrid old fish and littered with rusted nails.

Marlisa hadn't escaped them in time—I had.

It was time to allow the Siren that chance, as well.

Maybe it was the fact that with a deadly Siren at my side, I could take Oren down and escape from him once and for all.

Maybe it was the fact that when our eyes connected in the water, I suddenly didn't feel so damn lonely, or maybe it was because I felt a twisted kinship with the Siren.

The gods knew why I did it, but there was no time to overthink.

I grabbed the second set of rations Oren must've delivered in my sleep and stood before I could change my mind.

Ignoring the throbbing injury she'd given me and writing it off as her mindless hunger from being starved and abandoned for the gods knew how long, I tiptoed out of the carriage away from the scorched embers still faintly flickering on the cave walls and illuminating Oren's obscenely large form in the shadows.

Enormous chest rising and falling silently, I forced my eyes away from his beast form, not at all curious about his appearance in that shape.

I had no desire to witness it up close once more.

Rocks and pebbles slid underneath the soles of my shoes that had long since dried from the dip in the hot spring pool, but the fabric had crusted and become rigid from the temperature of the night, and I could barely feel my toes as I attempted to sneak across the open cave toward where the Siren resided.

The closer I came to the pool, the farther away the dim light of the fire grew, and I sucked in deep gulps of cool cave air, musty and damp and filled with steam the closer I grew to the hot spring.

Fog circled around my feet as the turquoise waters came into sight and I realized just how starved and delirious I'd been when I had stumbled into the waters.

There was a beautiful drop off at the lip of the underground aquifer, no rock ledge to gradually draw someone in, only a hard slant into still waters that were aglow from somewhere beneath the surface, illuminating the steam rising atop the pool in a milky shade not dissimilar to a full moon.

Her tail swished ominously below the water.

I briefly wondered if I'd gone insane and lost my mind.

This creature had attempted to murder me, eat me, make me its midnight snack, and still I'd returned with my rations and even with a clear head, I could discern how ludicrous that idea truly was.

What did I want? To be free of Oren and left alone to wander the lands until my last breath?

Or did I want something stronger, something more permanent?

I wanted to be free of the king whose sole purpose was to make my life a living hell, among other things.

I wanted to be free.

I wanted connections, I wanted love and laughter and happiness, to be as free as the women I'd spy on when they weren't looking as they kissed their partners long and slow, languishing in their touch.

I wanted companionship, someone to share this never-ending darkness with, someone who wasn't afraid of the inky poison that resided inside of me and who couldn't be killed by my fatal voice.

Someone who'd possibly suffered the same amount as I had.

Someone who understood what it meant to be alone in this world—truly, dreadfully alone.

That was why I leaned over the edge of the pool, hair brushing the tip of the thick water as it fell over my shoulders in mindless tangles.

That was why I waved some of the salted and dried meat over the surface, allowing the scent of the food to waft down into the deep and reach the Siren waiting below in its shadowed depths.

That was why I didn't balk as she shot like an arrow from a taut bow through the water toward me and held firm as her head popped up above the surface, a poison-tipped smile on her lips while her sharpened teeth glimmered in the light of the rising sun.

Her mouth opened, and I grew transfixed by the lovely melody she crooned.

I tilted my head in question, wondering if she attempted to lure me into the water to snare her prey anew, but she only stilled, that wicked tail glinting cobalt and silver while the scales shimmered and glowed to her ancient tune.

Slowly, her tail shortened, and her skin lost its slightly green tinge.

Aquamarine eyes lined with a glowing phosphorescence in the darkened cave met mine as they shifted and swirled as if there were a living thing growing and thriving there behind her irises.

Her red hair burned anew as if lit on fire by the rising sun itself, and her features, sharp and utterly beautiful and mesmerizing, grew softer—more feminine and less creature-like.

She turned human before my eyes, donning skin and legs and regular blue eyes before me as if she'd done it a hundred or a thousand or a million times before.

The last to go were her razor sharp teeth, the points flattening out and returning to a regular, mortal shape, and then swimming before me was a maniacally grinning woman of about twenty or so years of age, and for some reason, she terrified me more in this form than she had in her Siren shape.

Her song ended in a lilting of notes that all ran together in a wonderfully cohesive unit, stair stepping the ladder of notes until she hummed the last piece, a chest vibrating sound that had me wishing for more in her upper registry, more beautifully envisioned, star speckled melodies that enraptured my ears and rooted me to the spot.

"Hello."

Hello. Such a splendidly ordinary greeting after such extraordinary circumstances.

"H-hello," I stammered out, voice scratchy and painful after the gift had had its way with my throat the night before, after I had completely and totally lost all of my wits on Oren.

No wonder he hadn't bothered me in my sleep, or attempted to speak with me afterward.

I'd probably scared the piss out of him.

That thought made me want to laugh outright at the thought of anything that I could do or had done that could make Oren, the beast-man, even the slightest bit scared.

I pictured Oren pissing his pants at me holding a dagger to his throat, and my smile returned full force.

The Siren looked at me oddly, turning her head slightly as if she couldn't understand what land I was from, or if I were truly mortal.

Splaying her hands in the water and moving them about to keep afloat she nodded her head to the food I still held dancing above the water.

"Is that for me?"

Her voice was delicate and sultry, a nice combination that her song had capitalized on.

"Yes," I said quickly, reaching out more with my hands so that it might be easier for her to grasp.

She laughed, a husky and spine chilling sound.

"And what ever did I do to earn such a warm welcome from my sister in song?"

I allowed the comment that I was like her to roll off my spine as I spoke again.

"I understood your story last night. I know what was done to you. I want to help you out of here."

"Do you know why I stay in this pool, girl? Even though I can grow legs and a mortal body, I can't escape out of here on my own two feet with no food or shelter or clothing. You are the first soul I've seen aside from my captor. He comes once a week with just enough food to keep me on this edge of insanity. He didn't come last week."

Chills peppered my skin at her words.

Her captor had forgotten about her?

Or perhaps he was on his way soon, and he would encounter Oren...

"Then we'd better hurry."

"We?"

"Yes, we. Take my hand. I have provisions and-"

"No. No way in Everworld. No."

I swiveled my head to the side at the gruff voice that had suddenly rang out in the night air and found Oren standing before the two of us, his eyes dark and angry, but the beast was nowhere to be found.

The sky was lightening to a dark pink on the far horizon.

"There is no way I am bringing two Sirens back to—"

He cut himself off as he gazed upon the Siren in the pool before him, her mortal form even more stunning than her tailed one.

"Lady Inala."

Her eyes were a bit wider than the slits they had once been before gazing upon Oren, showing that she was somewhat surprised by his appearance.

"Lord Oren. I would say it is a pleasure, but..." she trailed off, voice dry and flat as she slung her gaze from him and back to me, where it stayed, even as he spoke to her once more.

"What are you doing here? How did you come to be here instead of the Temples?"

"If I told you, you would die upon hearing my story."

Inala and Oren must not have known each other all too well if she didn't know that he was immune to the Siren song, but if he weren't, he would've been struck dead upon hearing Inala's tale.

That was the beauty of being a Siren.

The only way to describe the hardships and terrors done to them was through their song, and any man who listened would be killed after their tale was told, unable to share their trauma with the men they came to love.

If they ever found anyone that could love them despite what they were, that is.

The old god who'd created them​​—us—was truly a despicable being.

That was partly how I knew that I was not a Siren, but something different.

My story to Peter had flowed out of me in words, through speaking, not in song, although that had ended in tragedy as well, when he believed he could still fix me, fix this life I was born into.

Those were times born of childish naïveté and hope. I knew better now.

"You wish to bring me with you, girl, and to feed me? Then feed me."

I reached out my hand even more, closer to her once deadly teeth, but her quick movement had me dropping the meat in the water just as Oren began to protest.

Quick as a lightning strike, her fingernail sliced across her inner wrist while those deadly teeth surged to me, clamping down on the delicate vein of my inner arm as she shoved her own blood covered wrist into my mouth, blue eyes never leaving mine even as a throb of my heart echoed in my ears and a bond stretched taut between the two of us, connecting us somehow.

I sputtered and gasped, the red blood thick and coppery as it flowed out of her and into my mouth, my own golden blood being sucked down her throat as something stirred within me.

Power​​—deep and pure and ancient pulsed through my veins.

What in the Everworld—

I was yanked away from the razor sharp teeth as Oren covered the wound on my wrist with his hands, tearing off yet another stretch of fabric from his shirt to wrap my wound in it.

"Why did you just do that? You know she had no idea what that meant," Oren protested from above, irritation swimming in those golden eyes.

"Do what? What just happened?"

Inala, swimming happily and chewing fruitfully on the fallen meat as if it were the most delicious meat she'd ever had in her mouth, shot me a smile full of daggers and honey and my own blood staining her teeth gold.

"Whoever offers a Siren their blood and drinks of the other becomes their new master. I think I'll rather like having a female owner over those rotten pirate fools."

"Owner? I don't want to own anyone. No one deserves to be owned," I protested vehemently, wincing at the pain surging through my wrist, not dissimilar to the ache throbbing in my thigh.

Oren sighed. "That's the point," he bit out, watching silently as Inala crawled out of the hot spring, swaying on unsteady feet.

I quickly reached out a hand to help her stand but she batted my hands away and I tried not to look as she stood there, gaunt and ribs showing, naked as the day she came out of the womb.

Inala's red hair, slicked back by the water, caught a few rays of the early sun and I couldn't tear my eyes from the sight as she shook out the tresses, her beauty unmatched by the one previous Siren I'd ever encountered.

"You won't want to own anyone, which is why she wanted to blood share. She knows you'll allow her to leave this cave."

"Why wouldn't I? And why do you make that sound like a bad thing?"

Oren sighed out a weary soul exhausted sigh, glancing back toward where the carriage and the mare rested.

"Because now we'll definitely have to take her with us, because you're one of those, aren't you?"

"One of those?" I questioned, wondering if the man before me actually had the audacity to say what I thought was going to come out of his mouth next.

"Someone who has to stop and patch every bird's broken wing, must feed every starving insect as if it is your life's purpose."

My eyes narrowed out of irritation at Oren's words.

Glancing back at Inala, however, I knew that she wasn't affected by his words, and yet still I knew they had to have stung, being compared to something as insignificant as a broken bird or small insect, except—those creatures were not insignificant, not in the grand scheme of things.

"Nothing in this world is insignificant. Not even you, unfortunately," I spoke, pointing the barbed words toward Oren as his mouth tightened into an angry line.

"If you two are done with the little lover's spat, I'd appreciate some warm clothing and more than a bite of salted meat."

I turned on my heel, showing Oren my back even though it might've been unwise to do so considering I hardly knew what the man was capable of, and strode to where Inala was standing off to the side.

"I don't know about spare clothing, but you can wear my cloak until we find you something more appropriate than your skin suit."

Unclasping the deep blue garment from my neck and wrapping it around her gaunt shoulders, Inala's striking blue eyes met mine once more as she grasped my elbow in her sharp grip.

"I heard your story last night, too, girl, and I can tell you that he didn't understand a word of it if he's still standing here alive. Not. One."

I nodded my understanding as I turned, her hand still on my elbow as we traversed the sodden cave floors in the twinkling light of the pigmented sunrise colors.

Oren's footsteps sounded behind us, heavy and clomping, and I had to bite back an amused smirk at having gained even just a bit of more equal footing, irritating him just as much as he had irritated me.

I was doing to him just as he had done to me—thrown him off balance, and he wasn't enjoying it one bit.

My face grew into a full blown smile as he stomped toward the dead fire and sulked, acting like an overgrown child who was denied his favorite toy.

If he didn't appreciate me doing things he didn't like, then maybe he needed to take a moment and consider my position on the matter.

I strode to the carriage and had Inala sit on the bench inside while I rifled through the provisions strapped to the back, faltering when I came across clothing for at least a few more weeks of travel, unless we were to encounter more who were supposed to join us on our way to the Temples of the Gods.

I hoped so.

Oren would be much easier to deal with if there were others around in our company.

It wasn't that I didn't trust myself to be alone around him, as if I couldn't control my own urges. No, it wasn't that at all.

I was simply...afraid of him, afraid of his beast form.

Yes, that was it.

Except—afraid wasn't usually an emotion I was accustomed to unless it was in correlation with the king and his constant strive to find me.

'Afraid' was what I would feel when the king finally did what he set out to do—when he finally caught me.

"So, how did you meet with His Majesty over there?"

I faltered in my perusal of things Oren had packed with him, hand still hovering over a smaller dress with a corset and pristine undergarments.

I made a mental note to steal away some for myself as well once Inala was properly dressed to her own approval.

"What do you mean by His Majesty?" I asked, worry creeping into my voice.

Had I unwittingly fallen into his trap?

Was Oren somehow the King of Valencia, and instead of sending his men after me like he had done so many times, he'd actually come and snatched me up himself?

Was I on my way to some kind of dungeon filled with knives and torture devices, and—

"He acts like he's royalty with his head stuck so far up his ass. A few friends of mine decided to tease him with the name. Now, how did you come to be in his lovely company?"

Would she even care if I told her the truth?

"He approached me and told me he could take me to a community of Sirens and that he could teach me control over my gi—my voice. I didn't immediately say yes, and when his attempts at seduction failed, he decided to try his hand at kidnapping. I woke up last night and tried to flee and, well, you could assume the rest I'm sure."

She whistled a low tune as she wrung out the excess water in her hair and stretched her neck outward toward the shining heat of the sun overhead.

"Sounds like Oren. He never was very patient, himself," she remarked almost conspiratorially, as if we were two partners committing a crime together, but she didn't mind one bit if Oren overheard her words.

I chuckled a bit but had to agree with her.

Oren hadn't necessarily been the most patient even after he'd had me exactly where he wanted me.

"Technically you're still my master. I could tear his throat out with my teeth, all you have to do is say the word."

I blanched at her words, and her laughter at the horror on my face sent the carriage shaking.

"What's the matter? Surely you're accustomed to killing by now."

"Yes. I am. That is what's the matter. The fact that I can kill a man without even blinking. I've become desensitized to the violence that I so easily give out."

She sucked on her teeth as I handed her a piece of crusty, flaky bread and dug into it without a second thought.

"Do you do it for fun, or just out of necessity?"

She spoke easily around mouthfuls of food as I considered her words.

"I've only ever killed out of necessity or accident. Never have I ever wanted to take someone's life. The gift—this voice...it takes on its own mind inside of me. It makes me do things I don't want to do."

Inala eyed me with an assessing gaze, almost like she was trying to solve the puzzle that was my mind.

"There wasn't ever a man who had done you or someone you loved so wrong that any attempt at letting him go alive wasn't an option? No disgusting, walking pile of filth who put his hands where he shouldn't and other parts of himself where no man ever should, unless invited, of course...there was never that one man, that one exception to the rule?"

There were plenty.

Plenty of men who were exceptions to that rule who'd stained my soul the moment I'd realized that their deaths had meant absolutely nothing to me.

The moment I understood that I could have killed them ten times over and still not felt a single thing.

Wasn't death supposed to change a person's mind, change their soul?

Warp it into something black and unrecognizable and something evil and impure?

"You hesitated. There was definitely an exception."

"And you?" I asked her, tired of the interview she had been giving me.

"Were there any exceptions with you, Inala?"

She laughed bitterly and shoved another bite of bread into her mouth while eyeing the canteen off to the side of the carriage.

I handed it to her and waited until she took a large gulp and swallowed thoughtfully, almost like she was biding her time with her words.

Finally, her large blue eyes met mine, and I shivered at the malice and bloodlust that sparkled beneath the surface of her expression, something alive and cruel and deadly, something that I never wanted to earn the ire of.

"I had no kills before I was taken. I lived only with the Sirens; I had no need to. But now? There will be no exceptions, no mercy. Not for the men who stole me. Not for the men who—" she broke off, unable to speak of the tragedy that had been done to her, the Siren's curse forcing her to put it into a song, a final mockery of the pain that she'd faced.

"I did have exceptions," I finally spoke after she had grown quiet. "And if we ever come across those men who did that to you, I will personally forget any moral restrictions I have and gladly make them the exception for you, too. If you'd like that."

Her head lifted at the fierce quietness of my voice, and she shot me a smile.

I couldn't tell if it was real or not, but it was a smile not filled with smirk and sass, but conspiratorial inclusion and respect.

"I would like that very much."

"I'm Josephine, by the way."

"Inala Equilline. Nice to meet you."

***

Author's Note:

What did you think of this chapter?

What do you think of Inala's character?

What do you think will happen next with Oren and Josephine?

Next update coming tomorrow!

Until next time my lovely readers,

Kristen :)

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The World of Irena: