How (Not) to Soothe a Siren (Cindy Eller Book 9) (4 page)

Forget Old Magic—Herne was Ancient. No one knew where he first appeared. No one knew how he decided his prey—but, Herne was dangerous. He was Wild Magic wrapped up into a solid form.

And he had found me worthy?

The very thought humbled me to the core.

We reached the Inn just as the sun kissed the mountains one last time before its slumber. The Huntsman watched silently, as he had all day, as we climbed down from our horses and stretched out our sore muscles. I’d lost the feeling in my rump hours ago. It was almost a relief to see that even my immovable mother looked a little stiff and cranky after such a long day in the saddle.

The Huntsman pointed to the hills behind us.

“You’ll be back in the morning?” Timothy asked.

I noticed that he didn’t meet the Huntsman’s gaze.

Nope, that kind of stupidity was reserved for me.

The Huntsman nodded. He turned towards me for a moment.

I held my breath as he kneed his mighty beast closer. He bent down low over the squirming blanket in my arms. With his massive fingers, he gently—far more gently than I would have thought those fingers could be—moved the blanket enough so he could look down at Asher.

He looked down at my son for a moment, and then straightened back into his saddle. He made a fist of his right hand and held it over his heart as he inclined his head…

To me? Or to Asher?

Before even the slightest squeak of reaction could pass through my lips, he had disappeared into the fog.

I looked down at my son, who was now gnawing on what looked like an ornate rattle made of bone.

I looked back to where the Huntsman had disappeared, and then up at Timothy.

He smiled, though I could see from his eyes that he was as troubled by this exchange with the Huntsman as I was.

“Come on,” Mom called, stamping her feet and breathing into her hands. “I’m freezing. Not everyone can warm themselves up, you know.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. The horses had already been led away, so I followed Timothy and my mother into the inn. Even without Asher’s soft whimpers, I would have known that it was time to feed him again. My breasts ached will fullness. We had stopped on the road, as needed, to feed him, but, obviously, it wasn’t as much as he and I were both used to.

I stepped into the main room of the inn, hoping to find a spot where I could sit down to nurse Asher.

The place was nearly deserted. Other than our small company, there were a few half-frozen travelers sitting at the bar and at a few of the many tables that filled the room. The wooden floor was swept clean and gleamed with cleanliness, as did the tables and chairs. Even the simple, white walls were perfectly tended.

I had the feeling that an inn like this was used to more travelers than the few we were seeing tonight.

A tall woman stepped into the room. Despite the high ceilings, she made the room seem suddenly small. She wore simple locally-spun clothes—a brown tunic and brown leggings, with boots tied up to her knees. Her white-gray hair was braided tightly across the back of her head, where it was bound in a complicated knot, before it fell in a long tail down her back.

Her skin was pale, with an almost violet undertone. Her eyes were gray, only a few shades darker than her hair.

We cranked our necks back to look up at her. I wondered just how tall she might be. Definitely closer to seven feet tall than six.

A woman that large should not have seemed so graceful. She smiled widely at us. Dimples appeared in both cheeks.

“Welcome to my inn,” she said, her voice warm. “I had a feeling we were expecting a large company. I’ll have food available for all in just a few minutes.” She winked at us, her smile widening. “I’ve learned to trust my hunches, you see, so I’m prepared. I’m Grace.”

Asher whimpered insistently. He wanted to eat and he wanted to eat
now
.

“Oh,” Grace said, clasping her hands together. “You have a baby! Just wait until I tell my sisters that we have a baby visiting us!” She stuck her head back through the doorway to the room she had just left. “Kate! Hannah! We have a visitor who is a
baby
!”

I took an involuntary step backwards as our hostess was joined by her sisters—one who was about Grace’s height, the other even taller than her sisters. They all had the same silvery-gray hair as their sister, though their eyes fell into different shades of the same spectrum. They all had the same violet-silver skin.

“Ice giants,” my mother murmured.

Grace’s smile widened. “Yes! We are from the Ice clan. You’ve heard of us?”

My mother curtsied gracefully, despite the pain she must be feeling in her lower extremities. “I have heard many stories of your clan,” she said. “I am honored to be your guest.”

The three girls—odd though it might be, to call three such large women girls—bobbed their heads, evidently as delighted by this as they were by everything.

I vaguely heard my mother making our introductions. I was too busy finding myself a place to sit, where I could nurse Asher in peace. He made eager gulping sounds as he latched onto my breast. I leaned my head against the wall, letting my tired muscles relax.

With my focus off my sore breasts, I became aware of the Magic that surrounded us. It was a new Magic to me, delicate as snowflakes, hard as ice. It felt strong, yet fragile.

Ice Magic. Winter Magic.

I smiled to myself. It carried the scents of cedar and crushed pine. It should not have felt welcoming, but it did. This was the side of winter where Jack Frost painted the windows and children rushed outside to play. I knew that the other side of winter—the cruel side—lingered somewhere in the background, but for now, the gentler side sheltered us.

The three giantesses looked like they were dancing as they tended to their visitors. Could there be happy wraiths? These women, so pale and so cold, should have been terrifying to behold, but the warmth of their smiles, the sweetness of their expressions turned the possibility of dread into smiles.

I switched Asher to the other side as Timothy, my mother, and our companions, started in on their meal. I hadn’t mastered the art of nursing while eating yet, so I would have to wait to eat once Asher finished. As if on cue, he let out a loud belch before his body relaxed back into a deep sleep.

“May I hold him?” Grace asked, her silver eyes wide. “Please? I’ll be gentle.”

I trusted my instincts. I wrapped Asher’s blanket back around him and let the giantess take him into her arms. She smiled down at him and made a soft crooning sound.

“We never get to see babies anymore,” she said, softly. “

The tallest giantess, the one Grace had called ‘Kate’, raised her head. “Hush, Grace,” she said. “Don’t trouble them with our problems.”

Grace looked so ashamed that I reached out and touched her arm.

“Please,” I said. “Tell me. Perhaps I can help.”

Grace looked back at her sisters. The three of them stared at each other for a long moment, before they all nodded in unison.

I picked up my spoon and dug into my soup as Grace began to speak. It was some kind of split-pea soup, I thought. Despite its unfortunately green color, it was warm and delicious.

“Our clan used to be large,” she started. Her eyes sparkled for a moment with good humor. “Not just large in stature, but there were many of us. We had towns, and even cities, full of ice giants. There were parties.”

“And balls,” one of her sisters called.

“And music,” the other sister said, her voice rich with longing.

“What happened?” I asked. “Did the humans…”

The girls laughed, cutting me off.

“No,” Grace said, chuckling softly so as not to upset the baby in her arms. “The humans could do nothing to us. No, it was our own foolishness.”

“It was that…
witch
,” one of the others snarled.

“It was both,” the last one said softly.

“We trusted where we shouldn’t have,” Grace said softly. “We wanted more than we should have.” She gave an embarrassed sort of shrug. “We wanted to be able to have spring in our keep. It is always winter here, you see.”

I nodded. I had begun to suspect as much.

“We made a bargain,” she continued.

“It was a good bargain,” The eldest said.

“It was a foolish bargain,” said the middle giantess.

“It was an impossible task,” they said together.

I sipped at my soup. By this time, I was starting to get truly curious. “What kind of task?” I asked.

“Capture Moonlight,” the girls said in a chorus.

“We tried and tried,” Hannah, the middle giantess said softly. “We made globes of ice and snow.”

“Pearls of ice Magic,” Grace said, shaking her head slightly.

“Magic or not, nothing worked,” Kate said.

“So, she took her dues,” the said together. “She called us… Oath Breakers.”

I shivered. Magic didn’t like oaths to be broken, especially oaths given to Magical creatures.

“Who was this… witch?” I asked.

The giantesses looked at each other.

“We can’t say,” they said together.

I exchanged a long glance with Timothy. He nodded.

Whatever Faerie wanted us to address, I was sure that this witch was a piece of the puzzle. I ate the rest of my soup, accompanied with a crusty bread that came warm out of their kitchen, slathered with fresh butter. After a long day in the saddle, it was a comforting spread.

Our rooms were as clean and well thought-out as the layout below. The bed that Timothy and I shared was large enough for two of the giantess sisters to sleep in without any discomfort. It was more than enough space for the three of us.

Timothy sighed as he flopped onto the bed. He pounded his fist into his pillow until it conformed to the shape he wanted, and then he tucked in under his head.

“Are you tired?” I asked.

“Worried,” he answered. “I wish we knew what we were walking into. I don’t like the idea of you and Asher walking into danger.”

I snorted. “And I don’t like the idea of
you
and Asher walking into danger.”

He opened his golden eyes. “I wasn’t meaning to make a sexist remark. If this ship goes down, do you want me to forget the whole ‘women and children first’ thing?”

I narrowed my eyes at him.

He buried his face back into his pillow to hide his grin. Timothy had always known how to get to me. It was one of the things that made our relationship work.

I reached out and curled my fingers through his. “We’re doing this together,” I said. “I know you’re worried—I am too, but we know we’re doing the right thing, right?”

Timothy sighed. “If I didn’t, I would send Asher back home with your mother at the first light of day.” He slid across the bed and took my face in his hands. “I love you, sweetheart. It’s never going to be easy for me to see you walk into danger. Not even when I know that you can Magically kick my butt all the way to the Dragon Lands. Worrying just goes with the territory.”

“Shut up,” I muttered. His lips were just inches from mine. “Shut up and kiss me already.”

He quickly complied. His kiss still turned my stomach into a quivering knot of dancing fireflies. His fingers pressed gently against my face and the back of my head.

I felt safe. I always did, when we were together.

“Asher asleep?” Timothy murmured against my lips.

I glanced towards the swaddled bundle that slept peacefully on the other side of the bed. “For now,” I whispered back.

“Then we’d better make this quick.” He chuckled in my ear.

“Lovely,” I whispered. “Just what every woman wants to hear.”

I
awoke to the sound of the storm breaking over our heads. The wind shrieked and moaned around us. I cradled Asher to my chest as I sat up. Beside me, Timothy shot straight up, nearly leaping right from sleep to out of the bed.

“What is that?” he asked, shaking his head. “It sounds like the giants are throwing a party or something.”

“It’s the storm,” I said. “I don’t know if we’ll be leaving in the morning.”

“I don’t know if the inn will still be standing in the morning, at this rate,” Timothy muttered. He started to pull on his clothes. “I’m going to go see if anyone needs any help. Are you OK here?”

I looked down at Asher. He was awake now, though far too fascinated by the sight of his own hand to think about crying. Yet.

“We’ll probably be down shortly,” I said. “Asher isn’t going to go back to sleep in this ruckus.”

Timothy and I both jumped as the inn shuddered around us.

I hopped out of bed and pulled on my t-shirt and jeans. I didn’t care if they were fit for royalty. I wasn’t going to worry about stuff like that when I had a storm overhead and a baby who was going to want to nurse again at any moment.

As we hurried down the stairs, I saw that we weren’t the only ones who had decided to brave the storm downstairs. It looked to me as if the entire population of the inn gathered in the main hall.

Timothy caught the eye of our horse-master, Madi, and headed in that direction, most likely to see if our mounts were safe from the storm.

The wind let out another scream. I wasn’t the only one who jumped at the sound. Even the giantesses looked concerned about the storm, if their sober expressions and quiet voices were any indication.

I caught Grace’s eye across the room. She made a small gesture, pointing towards where I assumed the kitchen lay. I nodded. I hitched Asher up higher in my arms and headed through the doorway the giantess had indicated.

The kitchen was large and heated by a hearth large enough to roast a yeti—not that anyone would eat a yeti. Gross. Two large old-fashioned kettles hung over the massive fire, bubbling away cheerfully.

“Oh, thank you,” Grace said, as she closed the door behind her. “I had a feeling you might be able to help us.”

I tried to ignore the chill finger that ran down my spine at the tight fear that filled her previously-cheerful voice. “What is it, Grace? Are you worried about the storm?”

Grace looked overhead. She shivered as she looked back down at me. “This isn’t a storm,” she said. “Can’t you feel it? It’s her. She’s here for us. She won’t let anyone from our village survive.”

I reached out with my free hand to clasp one of hers. Her fingers were icy to the touch.

“It’s her,” Grace said, her face growing, if possible, even paler than her natural pallor. “The s---“

A scream rang out over the wind—a scream that was no part of the storm. It was a strange, eerie scream. It made my skin crawl. I clutched Asher to my chest, my eyes instinctively searching out a place for us to hide.

Grace looked down at me. Her silver eyes were full of tears. “Can’t you help us?” she pleaded.

I swallowed hard and closed my eyes, trying to sort through the chaos of the wind, the snow, and… yes, the creature who stood at the center of it.

Seeing with Magic was not the same as seeing with my eyes. I did not know what the creature looked like. All I could feel was the dark, bitter knot that was her power. A purple bolt of power flew from that dark coil. Over the wind, I heard another scream.

I surrounded the creature with a loop of my power and sort of
pushed
. I didn’t know what I was facing, and I wasn’t going to do anything drastic, until I had more information.

In return, came a blast of power that would have shattered the entire kitchen, if I hadn’t already prepared to block such a move. As it was, I felt an icy touch brush against my face. The air filled with the scent of salt and sea.

If I hadn’t already guessed, that would have been enough to tell me that we were in the right place to face our unknown foe.

Faerie’s threat had come to meet us.

Grace moaned. “She’s here for us,” she cried, clapping her hands over her ears.

I wanted to spout something soothing to her, but I was too busy. The storm had doubled in its ferocity. I closed my eyes again, searching for that knot of power, for the center of this whole mess.

I found her again, still a dark coil of power. I encircled her with my power, but she blocked me.

I hissed. Damn. She could move fast!

My body jerked as I tried to capture the twisting form of the witch that had bothered my new friends so much. I raised my hand to deepen the protections around us.

And I was blocked. At three points, precisely, I was blocked.

My Magic wouldn’t let me protect the giantesses.

I opened my eyes, but I didn’t have to speak a word. Grace already knew.

“Oath breakers,” she whispered. “Magic won’t protect us now.”

My hands curled into impotent fists. How could I just stand here and not do anything to help? How could I desert these lovely ladies to some unknown fate?

“No,” I said, shaking my head as I closed my eyes again and called up a wave of power.

A hand touched my arm. An enormous hand.

Grace looked down at me. She shook her head. “No,” she said sadly. “It wouldn’t be right. You can’t fight the Laws of Magic because of us. We did not keep our oath. She has every right to our lives.”

Before the faintest hint of protest could leave my lips, she had already burst through the door of the kitchen, into the main room of the inn. I followed as quickly as I could, but I was just in time to see the last view of three pairs of long legs striding out into the storm.

I thought the shriek in the wind echoed with triumph.

Then, they were gone. I knew it, because the storm no longer frightened me. It was just a storm. Nothing more.

I slumped into the nearest seat, trying to blink back the tears in my eyes.

“I should have been able to help them,” I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.

“You couldn’t have.”

I looked up to see one of the men who was staying in the inn. He had a thin narrow face, and a beaky kind of nose, which was all I could see behind his heavy, spikey beard, and the hat he wore. Where had he gotten a hat like that?
Gandalf’s Hat Emporium
?

“Magic has rules, too,” he continued, once he saw that he had my attention. “An oath was broken. That’s all Magic cares about. Not whether it was fair or not. That’s why we need you… Seraphim.”

I blinked at him. There was nothing in my attire or manner to make this man aware of who I really was.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Who are you?”

He smiled slightly behind his beard. “Don’t you recognize me, Cindy?”

He pulled that ridiculous-looking hat off his head.

I shrugged. “Um, sorry? I really don’t…”

“It’s me,” he practically shouted. “Merlin!”

“Merl—oh!” My free hand flew to my mouth. “Merlin? Um… aren’t you supposed to be a cat?”

He looked down at himself, as if expecting to discover that he was covered with fur and had a tail. Now that I looked closer, I could see that his eyes, like that of my familiar, were different colors--- one blue, the other green.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “That.” He mashed his hat in his hands. “It’s a long story. Short version is—I’m here to help.”

“Hey, Cindy,” Timothy said, coming up behind me. “Who is this?”

I shook my head, wondering if it would be more appropriate to laugh or cry. “Timothy… this is… Merlin. You know… my…
Merlin
.”

Timothy stared at the small man in front of us.

“Oh,” he said.

My thoughts, exactly.