Chapter Seventeen
The next morning, Maeve woke feeling more exhausted than when she’d gone to sleep. Stephano was gone, but he’d left a square of the oat bars they’d found in Garret’s satchel. His weapons were missing, all but one large knife near her head. She assumed it was to protect herself with. She ignored it and went to the window.
It was barely dawn. Where is he? She’d fallen asleep after tending to him. She’d fallen fast asleep, something that never happened. That was until she’d woken with him behind her, his bigger body tightly wrapped around hers. His arousal had pressed so firmly to her bottom she’d been frightened. When he’d not moved, and his even breathing had stayed the same, she’d returned to sleep.
It was unnerving. Tonight, I cannot let that happen. What if I’d grown aroused again? Her face flamed at the thought. Other places grew uncomfortably warm. If I do, he will know what to do to soothe me.
She shook her head at her thoughts. Footsteps, his she knew, echoed up the stairs. Her stomach felt as though she’d fallen down that cliff again. She skipped to the bed in a rush and managed to sit a second before he entered the room, grinning at her with his hands full of…blue-speckled eggs.
“Where did you find those?”
Memories of what she’d done last night made her feel clumsy and unsure, but all he said was, “You’re probably better off not knowing.”
True. He had dust all over him and she thought a twig in his hair. Did he climb a tree?
“How should I cook them?”
He seemed so happy, she couldn’t think of a thing to say for a moment. Isn’t he going to say something about last night? His question hung there, waiting for her, as he was, expectantly. “I…well, maybe boil them?”
His smile fell. “I suppose so. I did find the kitchens. Amazing, but no supplies worth touching. I won’t take you there for fear of losing you.” He set the eggs down on the bed as he talked but gave her his rakish grin for the last.
“Was it a big kitchen?”
“Enormous.”
Such a place would have an incredible kitchen. She moved the pot over on the hook wondering how he would know she would love to explore such a place. He poured water into the pot then examined her face. She felt it heat. His lips were so kissable. She’d dreamed of his lips last night, kissing them.
“Your scratch is gone, but this…” He touched her stone fingers, his face a mask of concern.
“It’s the same.”
“It hasn’t moved, higher?”
She shook her head, scared at the idea. He stroked the pale stone with his fingers, drawing her eyes to his hands. They were big, but his nails were clean and trim. He had scars over his knuckles and one finger bent oddly as if it had healed wrong after a break. But they were so tan her arm appeared ghostly white next to them. What would his hands feel like on my naked breasts? Her breathing grew erratic, forcing her to bite her lip to calm down.
“It feels like marble, but looks like your other arm.” He rubbed his thumb over her stone fingers, then did the same to her real hand. She held her breath, unsure what he was doing to her. “It’s the same size, same shape, but weighs more. Stone weight, eh? But why stop it here?” He spoke more to himself than her.
She was glad at that. There was no way she could speak without revealing how aroused his touch made her. He didn’t know. He was bent over her, inspecting each inch of it of her arm. It gave her time to soak in every detail of him, without him knowing. His hair had lighter silky strands blended in with the dark. He dropped her hand and she reached up to pull a twig free
“You have dirt in your hair. And this.” She held up the little branch.
Their eyes met. She lost herself in the heat reflected there.
He didn’t speak, but he brushed his knuckles every so lightly along her cheek then ran his fingers through her hair, tucking it back behind each ear. She thought he might kiss her, and didn’t move away, too confused by him to think straight.
Being near him again, after last night, made her feel inept and unsure. She knew how hot his flesh was, how hard it felt, how his flexed when he began to thrust into their hands, but this, him quiet and not teasing her, was a mystery.
“Why don’t you ever wear your hair up, like this?”
“I do,” she managed.
He didn’t seem to hear her. His subdued expression confused her. He stood there, gaze flickering over her face and hair. She didn’t know what to say, or to do. Even dressed again in his shirt and armor, she knew what he looked like completely naked—or near enough not to matter. How his skin felt. How he sounded when he found his release. It was shocking to have such knowledge. It made everything harder, talking to him, meeting his eyes, standing in front of him. Why doesn’t he kiss me? Or speak? Is he embarrassed as well? She almost laughed at the idea. Stephano would never be embarrassed. But if he still wants me, why doesn’t he try to seduce me? Especially after I touched him last night? She couldn’t ask, but she also couldn’t say that she would stop him if he did kiss her. Or do more. Everything about him confused her.
He suddenly focused on her eyes and lowered his hands, letting her hair fall down her back, as if realizing he was holding it at the nape of her neck. He met her eyes again, but she couldn’t read his expression. “Now, do we put the eggs in? How long do they boil?”
The eggs… Her face flamed hot. The water had started to steam. Her brain clicked back into place. Breakfast. He wants breakfast, not you, silly! I though the wanted a kiss, or more, but all he wants is breakfast. He must simply be tired.
“Oh. Now. Now would be good, yes.” Feeling on pins and needles, she tried to walk over and get the eggs, but Stephano stopped her. He threaded his fingers through hers, holding her in place.
“I can do it.” For some reason, his tone slithered over her oddly. He brought their joined hands up to his lips to brush a kiss to her knuckles. “I’ve got them. You sit and give directions.” He surprised her again by dropping her hand and guiding her to the bed. She sat numbly and watched him pick up the eggs.
“How long should I let them boil?” He dropped them in with hardly a splash.
“A few minutes at least. We don’t have much else…”
“There’s a few apples left, and the meat. I spotted some berries.”
“Nothing in the kitchens was usable?”
“I wouldn’t touch anything.” He shook his head at her. “There were rats bigger than you down there. But I did find more of those statues. Cooks, I think. They looked like they were preparing a feast.” He laughed, but it sounded distracted. “If she has this kind of power, I wonder why she didn’t attack us last night. Maybe her power has lessened over the centuries. But your arm.” He studied her. “That’s our biggest concern right now.”
She considered that. If the statues were here, and had been for years, what could they do to break her arm free? What if it did grow to encase all of her? She felt as if she were missing something that should be obvious, if only she didn’t have to deal with her actions from last night. If only Brennan were here, he’d know what to do, what I’m missing. But the statues… She didn’t wish to argue with Stephano, but they were important. They were people, trapped in stone. She shivered to think of such a thing. What if they can sense everything around them? What if they can see us, feel things…but can’t move?
“Is this good, do you think?” Stephano’s question, spoken low next to her, scared her so badly she jumped. The hot egg he was balancing on the cloth, flew out of his hands. It cracked on the floor, and the cooked part broke apart, revealing a slightly gooey yellow center. “Ah, I think that’s it!”
“Oh, I’m so sorry—”
“It’s fine. I’m sure it was my sweet voice that broke it, eh?”
Sweet voice that broke it?
Stephano bent and retrieved the egg. Then rushed over to the eggs and poured the steaming water into another pan. It was almost cute how such a big warrior could do such a simple job. He scooped the little eggs out one at a time, too, his face furrowed with concentration. She watched him, half of her amused, half of her considering what to do about the Siren. Her eyes kept returning to the split-open egg.
A shiver raised the fine hairs on her arm as an idea came to her. Crack the spell. If the Siren did encase these people, I might be able to use my voice to reverse it. Like I did with Stephano.
“Here.” Stephano walked over with an egg. “These will give us the energy we need. The apple will help, too, and the meat, but I think we should keep the jerky until we need it. What do you think?” He cracked the little egg, peeling away the shell as he spoke, so engaged in his task he continued. “I used to eat four or five eggs a day. Cheap protein, and easy to make.” He glanced over and paused with his third egg. “Maeve? What is it?”
She shook her head, suddenly realizing what she had to do. Her idea would work. She knew it. But to make it happen… I have to tell him I am like her. A cold lump settled in her stomach, spreading a chill to the rest of her. Then he will never want to touch me again.
He stood taller, frowning in worry. How is it that I know that he’s worried? Has he become so clear to me? “Is it your arm?”
She let go of her stone hand, only then aware she’d been clutching it. “No, no. I think… I think we have to break the mirror, for good though.”
“I agree. It’s not going to be easy, but there has to be a way.”
“Stephano.” Saying his name seemed to tell him something because he set down the next egg he’d been about to peel, gaze on her intently.
She couldn’t have eaten any of them. Her stomach was in knots. Now that she knew what to do, she felt she had to do it. As if the same force that had pulled her toward the mirror was leading her there again. Only this time she knew it wasn’t because of the Siren. This was…right. He will never want me again once he knows. She met Stephano’s eyes, feeling more and more secure. Then he’s not for me and I’m not for him. “I think I can break it.”
“Why do you think you can break it? I broke it, Maeve, with my knife, remember? It went right back together. She’s gone—”
“She’s not gone. She’s trapped, by hatred and pain, maybe by this city, but I think I can set her free. Help her. And these people.”
He didn’t laugh or disregard her, but he anchored his hands on his hips. “Okay. How?”
The pressure on her chest meant she needed to calm down or hyperventilate. She knew the signs. But couldn’t answer him. Not until his eyebrows rose and he cocked his head to the side as if laughing at her.
“With my voice.”
He blinked.
She’d surprised him. Well, I surprise myself. Before he could speak, she gathered her nerve.
“Do you remember yesterday? When you were confused and I had to stop you from”—raping me—“hurting me?”
“Yes.” The one word was cold, as if she shouldn’t remind him.
She went on, “You frightened me. You wanted to hurt me. She made you that way, angry. She used her voice.”
“She’s evil and that’s why you shouldn’t go near her!”
“Maybe, but she’s also…” Her eyes stung, but she went on. “Like me. She’s the same as me.”
He appeared stunned, as if he’d learned she couldn’t speak again.
Before he could say anything, she rushed on. “She is…was…a Siren. I’m a Siren. It’s why I can’t speak. It’s why you want me. It’s why my brother hides me. Why he wants to go to your realm, and why he wants to be free of me. I’m like her.”
Stephano narrowed his eyes. “You are nothing like her.”
“I am.” Now that she’d confessed, she was desperate to make him understand. “And I…I can stop her. I think. I think…” She winced at her own thoughts. She would sound boastful, or… naïve.
“Go on.”
“I…I think I can break these people free, from their statues. I think that’s why I was called down there, not for her, but…for them.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “I don’t think so. All we need is for you to go down there and get another arm incased in—”
“Do you have a better idea?” Her anger made her a tiny bit braver.
“Well, eating breakfast—”
“We can’t eat breakfast!” She threw her arms up. “We need to save these people.” She lowered her voice and added, “It’s what heroes do. They save people.”
“Heroes?” he spluttered. “Since when are we heroes? You want to help these people, I get that, I do. But you aren’t like her. She blurred my mind, Maeve. You sang and I recalled who you were, as if her voice disappeared. That’s not like her. You can’t go down there, alone, thinking that if you sing, you’ll free people from stone.” He touched his chest with his hand. “I can’t either. I’m no hero, angel.” A hard shake of his head and he anchored his hands on his hips. “I’m a warrior, caught in a realm not of my choosing.”
He was much more than that. She drew herself up. He was being obstinate. He was a hero. He might be a scarred and damaged one, but he was a champion. I have to do this on my own, prove to him I can before he’ll see. She brushed past him and out the door before he could stop her.
“Maeve! Wait, come on, you have to give me half a second! What about the eggs?”
She’d given him more than any man she’d ever met. I gave him the truth. She would have given him more, too. She’d spoken what she truly believed. And he’d not even considered her ideas. Brennan always led, and she always followed. And I always stayed silent. I thought Stephano was different. I thought he would believe me.
She was almost to the bottom of the spiral staircase before she heard him racing after her. He must have stopped and gathered his breakfast. Heart racing, she skipped down the last few spiral turns and made it to the door and out onto the street. Once there, she picked up her skirts and ran. He shouted her name again with a laugh in his tone. He doesn’t even believe I’m a Siren, does he?
It was a race, with her far outdistancing him because of the condition of the road. She fit through places she knew he would have to jump or climb over to reach the other side.
If this worked, and she thought it would, hoped it would, the statues would become people. All at once she realized what that meant. She stumbled, but kept on. It wouldn’t be safe for her then. I should have let him eat breakfast! We’ll have to leave immediately…which means I will have to explain even more things to him.
“Mae! Wait, would you wait?”
She skidded to a halt near enough to the temple and the mirror for her voice to carry. Mae. The shortened version of her name had become dear to her. She wasn’t about to go inside that place, or even too near it, but she wasn’t going back, either. He’ll never want me after this. He won’t call me anything at all then. He’ll leave and go back to his world, and I’ll stay here, where I won’t hurt anyone else. She stiffened her spine and drew a deep breath. I’m not going to think on that. Not.
“Maeve!”
Her anger had vanished under the weight of her thoughts, but she still ignored Stephano’s bellow. She couldn’t wait for him. He will try and stop me. She gathered her courage and exhaled, then drew in another fortifying breath. Free her. Break the mirrors spell and free them all.
She began to sing.
This time, her song wasn’t one of enticement or fulfillment, or of waking like she’d used on Stephano. This one was of loss and regret, of letting go and leaving, something she thought the woman in the mirror needed. Something she knew from experience. She wasn’t sure why, or how she knew the Siren needed such a song, but with her gift sometimes she simply acted.
Behind her she could sense Stephano had reached her, but he didn’t stop her. His breathless muttering was quiet enough that she could ignore it. But for some reason, his presence gave her a burst of rightness.
A low, wounded, angry sound flowed from the mirror. Stephano drew his sword with a ring of metal on metal. She focused on her music, turning her voice into a soft lullaby of forgotten love and forgiveness.
The cry grew louder, and with it the wind picked up, throwing dust and dirt in her eyes. She tried harder, putting more and more of her own pain in the flow of her song. The loss of her parents, their beloved faces blurred by time, still shining with love, then disappeared, leaving a void nothing could fill was rolled into her song. So was the new pain and fear over losing Stephano. The flow grew, breaking octaves lower as she sang her despair for the Siren.
Slowly, the anger she felt from the Siren began to fade. The anguish and sorrow dissipated. All at once, she felt something give, as if she’d pushed past an invisible wall and there she was, the Siren from the mirror, facing her, looking nothing like she had before. But everything else was different too.
Maeve stood on grass, with a fountain to her left and a bench to her right, flowers blossomed in an array of colors. Birds could be heard in the distance. Stephano, the street, the entire city, were completely missing. He’s going to kill me!
A man appeared, a woman at his side. Both were smiling and holding hands, shooting glances back over their shoulders as they ran toward the fountain.
“You see?” the Siren demanded. “He promised me forever, but was unfaithful in his oaths from the beginning.”
Another scene, with another woman, followed by another, and another. Each time the Siren next to her choked on her tears, but otherwise let them fall, unheeded down her face. Gone was the crown, with it the kohl-lined eyes and daring gown, replaced with a simple gown of white that fit like a silk waterfall down her slim figure.
“He was never for you.” Maeve took the woman’s hand in hers. “If he was, he would never have left you.”
“He promised me everything! He promised me forever! But all he wished was me on his arm, while he had as many others as he chose. I was a fool. Believing him mine.”
Maeve didn’t know what to say, so instead of answering she stroked the Siren’s arm, and hummed a tune of sympathy and compassion for all the other woman had endured.
It seemed to help. The Siren slowly dried her eyes. “He will do the same to you. Your warrior. I saw his heart.”
Maeve wanted to deny her words, but couldn’t. Didn’t I fear the same? “It is not one to open and allow you entrance. He will use you, lie to you, anything he needs to do so that he can have you, but he won’t keep you. Not the way you want.”
As the Siren spoke, a vision of Stephano in her home, doing some domestic chore, a child at his side, watching him caught her by surprise. Do I want such a thing?
“He will have you only for a short while before he goes on to the next.”
Maeve’s throat grew tight but she couldn’t deny she’d thought the same of him.
The Siren’s eyes grew luminous, drawing Maeve in. “Then he will lie to you if you still cling to him, make you promises he won’t keep thinking to make you happy. For he cannot be yours. He does not know love, thus he knows nothing of loving another.”
Stephano never knew a mother’s love, a sister’s steady love, or a woman’s faith he would be there for her. He doesn’t know how to love, does he? She had an idea he would try not to break her heart, but by doing so, surely shatter it. If she allowed it. It doesn’t matter. As soon as he truly realizes I am a Siren, he will think nothing of using me. “I know.”
Sniffing, the Siren wiped at her eyes with her fingers. “I was once a queen among women, sought after by princes and kings from far away realms. Until this man, I never gave my heart to one.”
“So you cursed his city and him.”
“I did.” She didn’t sound remorseful.
“Will you let me lift the curse?”
Sighing, the beautiful Siren stared pensively off into the distance. It was then Maeve realized she was inside the mirror, inside the illusion, or the past this Siren dwelt on daily, perhaps hourly. Startled Maeve tried her best not to panic. It would do no good now. I am here at her will, I won’t be able to leave without her permission.
“I was placed here. When I discovered his duplicity, I struck out and tried to kill them both. I succeeded in killing the woman, but not…him. If I release them, I will not release him.”
Maeve could understand exactly how wrong that would be. The man, if not evil, was unfaithful and cruel. “Then leave him as a warning to all men who play with a woman’s heart. That they cannot go unscathed for such a crime, yes?”
This seemed to please the Siren, for she glanced at Maeve and an impish smile flickered over her beautiful face. “It would be good then to release the citizens. Many of them were my friends.”
“What will you do?”
The Siren took a deep breath and exhaled with a glance around her. “I will leave this place. And you?” she asked, eyes back on Maeve. “You have not yet learned to master your effect on men. You will have to leave as well, or…” She studied Maeve with an unreadable expression. “Perhaps you have found a means of controlling your power.”
Maeve smiled and shook her head. She had no control, she only knew when she wished to, she could use her gift for specific things. “I don’t think I have learned control. I didn’t know, I mean, I didn’t think we could…control it.”
The Siren’s eyes widened. “Surely, you were taught.”
“No. Our kind are…gone.” She kept her tone gentle, but the Siren’s face paled. “It happened when I was a child.” The memory of smoke, shouts and chaos was never far from her consciousness. The Hungry Time, she called it. “There was an attack.”
“An attack? But surely all our kind…” She covered her mouth. “All? Are you certain?”
Maeve winced, suddenly fighting tears. “No. My brother insists everyone is gone, but he never would take me…back,” she confessed. “I have always thought…one, two people can’t survive without others doing so as well.”
“It can’t be true,” the Siren whispered after a long silence. “I will go. If any survived there will be signs. All our people cannot be gone,” she added. “But you, you must learn to control your powers. You can choose when to reveal yourself, and when to hide your beauty. Perhaps, I will seek you out, after, and I can teach you. If you have not already learned.”
Maeve was too emotional to respond. She thinks we aren’t alone.
“You should leave, as soon as you free this town.”
“I will.” She squeezed the Siren’s hands, feeling overwhelmed with too many mixed emotions.
“I am Ellaine, if ever you are in need.”
“I am Maeve and the man with me is Stephano,” she managed. Getting control of her emotions, she continued in a steadier voice, “Be careful as you travel. The Dark Faye hunt for women, especially beautiful ones. They would take you and use you.”
Another smile, this one oddly filled with merriment. “I would like to see them try.”
“Mmm.” Maeve adjusted her hair behind her ears unsure what that meant. Perhaps if she taught me, I would know. She pushed the idea aside, unsure when she would ever see the Siren again. Stephano would be worried, more he would need to know why they had to leave the town, and without his breakfast. Still, it was better than having a stone arm and leaving this city entombed. “I will need…out, again.”
“You must sing, this time, of freedom. It will release me, as well as the people in this city. But be warned. You must also leave, for they will not look kindly on a Siren after this, I fear.”
“No.” Maeve grinned. “I am certain they will not.” Feeling anxious about Stephano, she took the Siren’s hand and squeezed it once more. “Fare you well, sister.”
“Fare you well, sister.”
Maeve released her and backed away. Taking a breath, she began to sing of freedom and open spaces, of leaving the past behind and beginning anew. At once the clearing melted and with a start she was outside again, Stephano an anxious presence at her side.
He grabbed her arm and held her in place, studying her from her head to toes for a brief startling moment before shocking her by shaking her gently. “Maeve, damn it, you scared the living—” He stared around as a huge crash sounded in the distance, then back at her, now free of stone arm. “Shit. I think you did it.”
She tossed her head and broke from his hold. “Yes. I told you I could.”
He had the nerve to wink. “Good job, now, let’s—”
“Now, we leave.” Not wanting to listen to him suddenly, she held up a hand and like magic he closed his mouth and stood back. “I told you I could do it. I’m like her. I’m a Siren, Stephano. Like her. She wasn’t evil. She was hurt.”
“Well, she—”
“By a man.”
He grimaced at that and anchored his hands on his hips. “Obviously, but—”
“Obviously? Is it so easy to believe a man would use and hurt a woman like that?”
“Well, the entire town was stone—”
“Well, that’s sad,” she sniffed. “She’s free now and he’s stone!”
“All right.” He held his hands up as if she were being unreasonable. “That’s good. So, now—”
“So now we have to leave too, before the men wake and you didn’t even get your breakfast!” The last she threw at Stephano, unhappy suddenly with him, with the town, with men, with…everything. Why do I have to be a Siren? Why does he have to be…broken?