How (Not) to Soothe a Siren (Cindy Eller Book 9) (12 page)

L
emek made another one of his grand gestures. This one was evidently designed to inform us that he was done speaking. One by one his daughters filed out of the room, guiding us towards the other parts of the strange house.

“You,” Lemek barked, as I lifted my foot to step across the threshold into the hallway with the others. “You come back. We’re not finished.”

I looked over my shoulder. “Should I call Timothy?” I asked.

He shook his head. “This isn’t about the quest. It is about him.” He stabbed his finger in Asher’s direction.

A queasy feeling took a hold of my insides. I had to fight the impulse to bolt after the others, my baby in tow.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lemek said gruffly. “I love babies. I have seven daughters, after all. I’ve not bitten one yet, though I may have been tempted a time or two.”

He gestured for me to approach him.

“Come on, girl. I’m not a serpent, and it’s been centuries since I was the least bit rakish,” he teased. “Surely a young thing like you can walk a little bit faster.”

I found his gruff humor somehow reassuring. I obeyed his instructions and carried Asher to the old man.

“Will you come to me, young sir?” Lemek held his arms out, letting Asher decide whether he would go or not.

To my surprise, Asher popped into the old man’s arms with a smile and settled into Lemek’s lap, a benign smile curving his little lips.

“That’s a good boy,” Lemek said, his voice growing, if possible, even huskier. “I never did have a son. There are few males among the swan kind. Somehow, I never felt the difference until just now.” He looked up at me. I could see that he was smiling behind his beard. “I have to confess, that I’ve been eagerly awaiting grandchildren. Most swan maidens don’t wait long for marriage. Of course, my girls would. I blame it on education.” His eyes twinkled again.

“You don’t fool me,” I said softly, grinning back at him. “You’re delighted by your girls, and I bet you don’t mind not having to share them with husbands yet, either.”

“True words,” he rumbled. He bounced Asher on his knee. “Now, am I right, but this babe was not born of this body.” He gestured towards me.

“I’m his mother,” I said, stiffly, “But, you are right. I didn’t give birth to him.” I raised my chin cheekily. “I plucked him off of a tree.”

“Like a pear, you mean?” The old man snorted with laughter. “I’ve never heard stories of a tree that bears children like fruit.”

I smiled despite myself. As much as I hated it when people question Asher’s origins, I like Uncle Lemek quite a bit.

I told him the story, briefly, of my dreams, the Great Tree in the castle orchards, and how I had found Asher there, waiting for me.

“And so you grafted this little twig into the great, robust tree that is our family,” he said, when I had finished the story. I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was still teasing.

I nodded.

“If he was yours,” he mused out loud, “I would have had to start giving credit to those stories of my sisters, that you weren’t my brother’s child. Even if you do look the spitting image of him.”

I didn’t think I looked that much like my father, but I decided to let the subject drop. The last thing I wanted to do was think about my aunt and the way she had betrayed me. The fact that she was family had made the betrayal all the more painful.

Lemek read the stiffness in my posture and shook his head sadly. “I apologize for my sister. That she would turn against one of her own blood… it is hard to encompass, even for her. She always was jealous of your father. Lenus had success following along like a puppy dog all his life. Not all of our family is like that. You’ve… met Sumac?”

I nodded, smiling at the mention of my favorite cousin. “She and I are very close,” I said.

“Good. I always like the girl. I tried to convince her to run away and live with my daughters, but she had too much spunk to let herself be locked away, she said.” Lemek shook his head. “Now, about this young man, Asher, you said his name was?”

I nodded.

“You’re aware he has Magic?”

I nodded again. “My mother said it felt like he might have some Fire Elemental blood.”

Lemek’s eyebrows rose. “That’s very astute. I see I must have a conversation with your mother—if she will speak to one of the ones most opposed to her marriage with your father.” He nodded at my shocked hiss of breath. “That’s right; I was one of the voices that drove your mother out of Faerie. It is one of my great regrets. I did not understand their attachment, not that it makes any difference. I did what I did, and I’m ashamed of myself for it.” His customary sparkle returned to his eyes. “Though, I say that it ended up being the right thing for you… and for Faerie. Who knows, perhaps it was part of my destiny to send your mother away, even as it was part of your fate to save Faerie.”

“I’m not sure I believe any of that stuff,” I said.

“Oh, it’s there,” he said. “Trust an old man. There is a bigger picture. It’s just far greater than even Fae minds can comprehend. Even ants are a part of it, for it is a very detailed plan. It encompasses us all.” He frowned slightly as Asher grabbed his beard and gave it a sharp tug. “That’s right; we were talking about you, weren’t we?”

Lemek looked up at me, though, with his height, it was almost straight across to me. “Yes, there does seem to be elemental blood in his veins, from more than one source. And, not just fire, though that does seem to be a dominant characteristic in him.” He rubbed a hand over his face thoughtfully. “He’s like a piece of amber, your little boy. He… crackles.” Lemek smiled. “You’re going to have your hands full. It’s a good full. Remember that, when you question everything you do as a parent. Full hands are good. It’s the empty arm you have to dread.” He shook himself slightly, as if awaking from his thoughts. “Silence always cuts more than weeping. Remember that, when you are short on sleep and patience.”

My throat throbbed in response to the depth of loss that his words and tone conveyed.

“But you’ve known loss,” he said. “I can see it in your eyes. This was a long hope-for child, wasn’t he?”

I nodded, voiceless from emotion.

“Perhaps you would not have heard him calling, if your arms had been otherwise occupied,” he said, surprising me by voicing words similar to what I had just been thinking. His lips curled up in the corners, a beatific expression on an ugly face. “You see? Fate.”

Thinking about fate and destiny always made me feel like I was trying to swim through molasses. The air around me felt thick and sticky. Could fate still have a hand, when I believed that free will was something all creatures possessed? Or was my free will something accounted for?

It was easier to just not consider, to ignore the ramifications of all those heavy, deep words—the ones that might have made a Seraphim out of a baker.

*~*~*

W
e slept in real beds that night, bathed, and with full stomachs.

Madi had announced that the horses were well provided for in the stables, with the best grain and hay offered. Fit for Fae horses, she said, and when she said that, I believed her. Madi took her position as horse master seriously. She’d never hesitated to tell me if she felt that anything was subpar.

We might be staying in a castle, but it was nothing like the one we lived in, this place had all the homey little additions that turned a house, or a castle, into a home. The blankets and pillows on our grand bed had been carefully and lovingly made, each one stitched by hand.

In theory, I like the idea of quilting or needlepoint, but in practice, I was far too restless to apply myself appropriately. Baking had always been the best way for me to express my creative side.

But, still, I could appreciate find handcrafting when I saw it. I imagined that my mother was already learning tips and tricks from the lady of the house, who was not nearly as unapproachable as she had first appeared.

And, appropriately, her name was Elaine.

Lemek had retired after our nighttime meal to the room her referred to as his study, even though it was set in what should have been the entry hall of the castle. Lemek, I was learning, had a dislike for the planned and predictable.

I wondered how he and my father got along.

Even after a decade in Faerie, I felt like I barely knew my father. Perhaps I had come to him too old for us ever to have a true father/daughter relationship. We had fallen into something slightly more intimate than friends, but somehow less meaningful than the relationships I shared with my mother and sisters.

I looked down at Asher as he slept in my arms. Days in the sun had brought an almost bronze luster out in his skin, while it had lightened his hair until it was a dark, ashy blond. His eyes were true blue, like the illusive touch of blue in the center of every flame. I wondered about him. Of course, I wondered. We would always have questions about his history, about how he had become ours. There would always be questions that needed answering—about his Magic, about his parents, about his history and how he had ended up in the branches of the Great Tree.

Unfortunately, most of those would have to remain mysteries. Asher couldn’t tell us his story. He couldn’t tell us anything about himself, but he could, and did, show us who he was, on a fundamental level, every day of his life. To me, he was the little boy with the dimples. He was the owner of the chubby fists that held my heart. He was the answer to my deepest, desperate prayers.

There would always be those, particularly among the Fae, that would never accept Asher. The same Fae who still held my human heritage against me, would be far harsher on a child of unknown origins. They would make sure that he knew everything about him—and everything they chose to make up about him.

I shivered, remembering the time I’d been cornered by a drunk Fae—a young man—who had slurred a demand to see my horns, because ‘humans have horns’.

Hating hatred did nothing. I would fight every day, because I was different. But, at least I would know how to fight for my son.

Because I would fight for him. Blood ties or not, we were family. He was mine.

And I was his.

Momma bear on duty.

My dreams, perhaps in response to my uneasy thoughts, were wild. Images flashed before my eyes—flashes of flame, of the sky, of the sensation of flying. Hearing a woman weeping and feeling her tears fall to my face… scorching hot tears. Over it all, I heard a strange, simple lullaby.

I awoke the next morning with the tune still ringing in my ears.

I had a feeling I would never forget it.

L
emek joined his family and us for breakfast, though he spent most of the time hidden behind an enormous book. If the bindings were any indication, it was older than the earliest printing presses.

He peeked over the top of the volume from time to time, looking for all the world like an ugly owl.

Once he was confident that I had finished, he set down the book with a deep sigh.

“Would you like to take a walk?” he asked.

I smiled to myself. The swan maidens had stolen Asher during breakfast. I glanced in their direction. They looked like they had everything well in hand for him, so I decided to let them keep him while I talked to their father.

My cousins, I realized. I had more cousins. Sumac and I had become quite close. Now I had more cousins.

No boys. Not yet, anyway. I wondered how many cousins I might have, that I knew nothing about.

We walked around the front courtyard, alongside the pond, with its waterfall spilling over the natural stone walls that embraced this part of the castle. The pond, I discovered, was full of well-fed, contended fish. They looked like koi to me, but not colors or varieties I was familiar with. I’d never seen that particular shade of purple on a fish before.

I wondered if my castle had a fishpond. There probably was one somewhere.

This, I considered, was what happened when an introvert became Seraphim. I didn’t even know if I might or might not have a fishpond at my own castle. I did, however, know how to find almost anything in the beyond massive library, which was no mean feat.

“The girls told me that you were under the guidance of the Huntsman,” Lemek said, holding his hands behind his back and looking down at the fish in the pond with a studious expression. “I have spent the morning reminding myself of what I know of this person—which, sadly, is not much. You are aware, I believe, of the Wild Hunt?”

I shivered and nodded. The Wild Hunt was born of Wild Magic. It was said that Herne, the Huntsman, would call together his hounds, and they would scatter any evil thing that they scented to the four corners of the world. I’d read that he selected those that would ride with him—some as hunters, others as hounds.

There were aspects of Magic tat terrified me. The Wild Hunt fell well and truly into that category. It was governed completely by the Huntsman. Even I had no power over his actions or whom he might choose to hunt.

“You believe that we are in danger?” I asked.

Lemek frowned. “You? Not necessarily. Now the siren? I fear she is in mortal danger. Not that she is mortal, in any stretch of imagination. With all she has done, she is a prime prey for the Wild Hunt.

I shivered. Bad enough to become part of the hunt. Worse still was the idea of being what they hunted. There was no creature—not even Owen Dark with all he had done—that I would wish that experience on.

“Is there anything I could do?” I asked. “To help her?”

Lemek’s bushy eyebrows shot up. “You would find mercy for her, despite her actions?”

I nodded. “Perhaps she is salvageable. I got the impression from a dream that she was not—quite—sane. The poor thing might not know what she is doing.”

“The poor thing knows exactly what she is doing, and she is doing it cleverly,” Lemek said sharply. “Don’t fall into the trap of pitying her. She has killed, and she will kill again.”

I recoiled. Had that been the fate intended for Timothy and Asher? Had she tried to capture them so she could kill them?

“You look at the world through a lens of your own goodness,” Lemek said gently. “It is no bad thing, to believe the best of anyone. This time, I’m afraid, it puts you at risk. From both the siren, should you face her, and the Huntsman, should he realize your sympathy for the creature. The Wild Magic is notoriously harsh and can be cruel.”

I shivered. My arms were covered with a find spray from the waterfall, but that was not why I felt suddenly chilled.

I was Seraphim. I couldn’t choose to willfully close my eyes to the truth that there were… well, bad things out there. I couldn’t ignore or avoid them anymore. There were evil things in any world, some of them wearing horrible faces, others with benign exteriors. Now that I had been alerted to their existence, I had to keep my guard up.

The risk was too great, if I didn’t keep my eyes open.

“You are a good Seraphim,” Lemek said, as if he could read my thoughts. “You have the ability and the insight to become the best Seraphim Faerie has ever known. Are you up for the task? Are any of us? Me, I would not trade places with you for all the books in the universe, or in any universe that had ever existed on any plane, just to prove how reluctant I am. Remember that, should you decided to do something foolish and die or something. I have no desire to be Seraphim. I won’t pick up the pieces for you. And Lenus… well, I am concerned for him, but that is not something I should discuss with you.” He shook his head. “It’s you or no one, darling.”

I took a deep breath. “Then, I guess it’s me.”

“And me,” Timothy added, coming up behind me. He kissed me quickly and set his hands on my shoulder, facing Lemek. “She’s not completely on her own.”

Lemek nodded. “I see that.” He gave a melancholy sort of sigh. “Perhaps things aren’t as bleak as I have feared.”

Timothy laughed and slapped Lemek on the back. “You’ve been hiding out here for too long. Don’t you know that things have changed since the barrier came down?”

I watched my uncle as he smiled up at Timothy.

I had a feeling that he was speaking from a source of knowledge—and his fear was for the future, not the past.

“I have a couple ideas,” Lemek said, “about how we can help the selkies and the ice giants. I’ve borrowed some of your… science,” he smiled broadly, “to pull the trick off. I hope you will approve. There is one more thing I have to try.” His smile turned to a grimace. “I’m afraid that it’s inevitable that you’re not going to like that.”

We followed Lemek back inside. His words certainly had made me feel curious. I wasn’t a cat, but I was nearly as bad once my curiosity was raised.

Huh. Maybe that’s what happened to Merlin. Had his cat self… died?

Question. Questions for later.

*~*~*

L
emek was right. I didn’t like his idea.

“You want Asher to what?” I demanded.

“Hold the prism,” he said. “Look, we can’t guarantee the right kind of light shining through the prism at the right moment, not unless Asher is the one holding it. His Magic is perfect for this.”

“So, you expect me to be willing to just let my son, who can’t even walk yet, help vanquish a siren?” I could hear my voice rising with each word, but I could not seem to regain control of my vocal chords.

“Yes,” he said simply. “And I do know what I am asking. I don’t have any other solution for you.”

“Maybe a flashlight?” I demanded. “The sun?”

“Not reliable,” he said. “You know that mechanical things don’t handle Magic well, and there is quite a buildup of Magic around the siren at this point. We need to be careful. We need to have the most reliable options—and that is Asher.”

I buried my face in my hands. “You can’t ask this of me,”

“I’m not,” he said. “I’m asking it of him. I’m asking him to hold the prism. That’s all it will take. What I’m asking of you is that you let him.”

I swallowed hard, but I still managed to nod.

“At the first sign of danger, I’m pulling him out of there,” I warned.

“I’m counting on it,” Lemek said.

“Your plan for capturing moonlight, on the other hand,” Timothy injected with the air of someone interrupting a lioness, --which, I supposed he pretty much was, “is absolutely brilliant.”

Lemek beamed. “Yes. I thought so myself. You see, it’s just a simple solar collector, but sensitive enough that it will charge the battery, so you can turn on a light anytime you want—capturing moonlight.”

“This he can do with technology,” I grumbled. “But he needs my son to hold a rock?”

“Prism,” Timothy and Lemek corrected together.

I shot them a long look.

“Or rock,” Timothy conceded.

“It is pretty much is a rock,” Lemek hurriedly agreed.

“Let me see this trick of Asher’s,” I said. “I’m not putting him in danger, just because you say he can do something. That’s not good enough. I have to see it myself.”

Lemek actually beamed. “I would love to give a demonstration.” He gestured for Viveka, who was holding Asher, to bring the baby to him.

“No.” I took my baby from the girl’s arms. “I’m going to be the one holding him.”

Lemek nodded, as if he had expected nothing less. Maybe he did know. Maybe he understood motherhood more than I did. He had seven daughters, after all. He must be familiar with how a mother’s mind worked.

Lemek pulled a prism out of the drawer of his heavy desk. It was nothing special to look at. Other than its cut, it could have been any rock or piece of cut glass. This small thing was going to help banish a siren? I shook my head at the idea.

“Do you want to play with this?” Lemek asked, his rusty voice rising minutely as he fell into the kind of baby talk that came naturally to a man who had spent a lot of time around babies and loved them. “Look, Asher! Look at the shiny rock. Can you make it pretty? Make the rock pretty, Asher.”

I smirked at his use of ‘rock’. I raised my eyebrows at Timothy.

He rolled his eyes.

Asher reached out for the rock. As I had expected, half of it went straight into his mouth.

The part of the prism still visible was emitting, not one, but dozens of perfect rainbows. They surrounded Asher and me like halos.  As Asher played with the prism, the rainbows started to shimmer and dance around him, as if they were inviting him to play.

“Wow,” Timothy breathed.

I nodded.

“He can do it,” I said.

I hoped it was the right decision.