SONG of EMBER

60

MY SISTER, MY FRIEND

PART II

🙜

A blood oath?

If Sil swore Ember unto herself, no one, mortal or sirenkind, could sunder such an oath in this life—and there were whispered rumors that a blood-oath persisted even beyond the abyss of death. Ky would never be strong enough to win a fair fight against her sister, and no siren would take up her cause for the dignity of a mortal man.

“We do not keep thralls,” Ky cried. “Not even from conquered clans have our ancestors detained those taken in war, but put them to death or freed them if they are brave! You would have us become like the savage clans, then. For what think you this, besides thralldom?”

“Only if he were a siren would it be considered an enthrallment,” Sil said coolly, hooking a claw over her lower lip and squinting slightly. “No, they will not argue with that…”

Ky remembered—this time, she thought not of herself toiling under the summer sun, gathering shells for Sil and her laughing friends, nor of the nights she had spent at the bottom of the ocean, trembling in the weeds as she listened to conversations that she may well have been killed for overhearing before scurrying back to report what gossip she had gathered, and earn an extra scrap of food if it proved useful information, or a furious slap if proven wrong.

She thought of Ember.

She thought of the slap falling across his face instead, of a careless little cut across his cheek from her sister’s claws. She thought of his figure growing gaunter and leaner as he scavenged whatever edibles he could from the craggy shores of her home, no doubt far less than what he needed to be strong. She thought of him resting with his feet in the shallows and his head on Sil’s lap as she stroked his hair, tangling her fingers into his beautiful curls, now grown wild with salt and neglect, far from his own lands, stolen away from kin or kindness…

“Then I will argue against it,” Ky panted, aware that she was swiftly losing the appearance of indifference. “I will fight the council on this—doubt not that I will loose my tongue on that matter!”

“Always so dramatic.” Sil smiled. “And what, have him put to death instead? My naive little sister, lover of heretics and humans. Do you think your word has any weight with the Council, after everything I have told them about you?”

A confident smirk wormed its way across Sil's perfect lips, her cheeks hollowing, and she reached up to sift through her hair with elegant fingers, looping a knotted strand across her shoulder. A tarnished silver ring had been woven into her hair, near-black with salt and brine, and now it rested prettily upon her collarbone.

She tucked her chin to admire it, chortling a cadence of pleasure.

Ky tried miserably to shrink away from the sight, blinking as if struck by a noonday light, but her elder sister grasped her by the throat again, that hideous smile blooming across the rest of her blemished face.

“If you will not sing for this wayward man, enchant him, seduce him, and strip him bare before me, then I shall take your honor for my own. Let him confess all that which he has promised to you, every word which has passed between the two of you, naked before my judgment as a maven—then I shall be satisfied, and you shall know that all mankind are fools.”

Sil paused to consider these words, her cheeks hollowing further.

Studying her sister.

“No, he will not be my thrall,” she simpered. “He will be my companion—and very useful company, when I am ascended to my rightful place as the leader of Clan Veli. Do not worry for him overmuch; he will certainly come to love me, in his own primitive way, just as you do—”

Ky snatched Sil's wrist.

"Enough."

The bones uttered a grinding creak, and—yanking the barbarous talons from her neck—Ky lashed out. Her sibling stood still as a carven stone. Three crimson scratches marred the left side of her face, dark blood trickling from the deepest valley.

Straightening her spine, Ky smoothed the bedraggled woolen skirts across her thighs and met her sister’s empty gaze.

Sil's mouth opened, gaping wide.

“Never shall Sil of Clan Veli lay a hand upon my Ember,” she announced, ignoring the persistent quaver of her own voice and lifting it to a volume of authority. “And I will not return to your clan, for they are my clan no longer. Submit yourself to their rituals, if you wish—lie about me if that is your desire—I care not. As for me, I will walk alone, until I have withered away into a husk, or find some other source of mortal magic which might free me from my past."

Lifting her chin, Ky turned and stumbled away with less elegance than she had envisaged.

Thorns snatched at the hem of her dress as a cold hiss misted her neck.

“O Sister Mine…”

The words thrummed, each voice of the earth bending to their will. Ky's limbs trembled as her defiance drowned in a chorus of whispering magic.

“You have already lived this ending.”

Sil wrenched her around, moonlight and gleeful expectation shimmering in her eyes. Ky clenched her fists, scarcely breathing, but did not bow her head. Surprise flickered across her sister’s face—then a flash of deathless fury.

She flung Ky down the slope with bruising force.

Brambles scratched at her bare feet and she gasped, scuffling backwards into the lake. Sil made her descent much more slowly, humming and twitching her long fingers all the while. Scattered orbs of colorful magic apparated in the branches of the trees behind her, wisping through the summer foliage.

“I swore to the elders that I would bring you back for penance, but I did not promise them that you would be in one piece.”

Ky tried to run, but her knees locked into place.

Sil marched down the embankment, splashing into the shallows.

“Sing for the wretch, and keep your tongue.”

Her claws flashed under the moonlight.

“Refuse, and I shall tear it out, and make you eat your own song one small bite at a time.”

She spoke with such patient quietude that Ky was left in no doubt of her sincerity. The world smeared before her at the horror—she could already taste the salty blood between her teeth—but there was only one certainty: the longer she held Sil’s focus, the longer they tarried here, the greater the chance that Ember should be free from them both in the end.

“Tear it out, then,” Ky sniffed, heart pounding hard beneath the damp wool. “‘Tis not as if there will be more love lost between us.”

Sil observed her for a moment, as if measuring her resolve. Then her smiling mouth opened again, fangs glistening in the starlight, and the little lights flared as the songs of the earth pulled close around them. Ky’s guts knotted in despair.

Her sister would sing for Ember.

He would come to her.

And then—

Song of betrayal.

Blood-dark waters.

Laughter.

Fishes.

Death.

A roar like ocean filled her ears and the ground tilted swiftly. Impact shuddered her frame as she collided with the darkness, bone against bone.

Stars danced before her eyes.

Her claws sank into cold, slimy flesh.

The lake closed over their heads.

Sil shrieked, slashing at her throat as Ky writhed away, kicking off the pebbly surface. The dress tore and she was dimly aware that sharp claws had raked her face and bosom, but she had no wits to spare for contemplation of such a small thing. She vied for control of her sister’s crushing arms and snapping jaw.

Bubbles rushed past Ky’s face.

She grunted, curling her toes around slippery stones and rotting logs.

A pair of fangs sank into her shoulder, yet even that was dulled, peripheral to the rage and fear which roiled together in her chest. She grabbed Sil’s throat and chanted ancient songs of wrath and binding—words that she had heard Sil use to paralyze her prey.

It was a quiet struggle.

Drowned by mud and murk.

Let the water choke her song.

Let the crescent take them.

She would bite and claw and scrap with every bit of strength which remained unto her, until Ember was long gone from this mountain of sorrows—until she or her sister both had faded into the everlasting dark.

They had crossed almost to the other shore, where the moon's rays filtered through the weeds and a misshapen, lifeless shadow rested at the bottom of the lake. Ky squealed, more bubbles rushing past her face as Sil’s fingers hooked into her scalp. She flung out an arm, and a muddy branch scraped her shoulder.

Dead tree.

She encountered taught strands of hair, but could not free them fast enough: Sil’s hands darted in and out, yanking and weaving every lock and snarl into the tangle of branches. Ky bit, kicked, and scratched, but the more she struggled the nearer she came to gouging her eyes on the scraggly limbs.

She caught a fistful of her sister’s tresses.

Tugged her closer.

There—a wrist!

Ky burrowed her claws into her sister’s arm and snapped her fangs, but Sil darted away. Her elbow hyperextended with a loud pop and her neck snapped back, held fast by the skeletal wreath of the tree. Her howling frustration trailed into a yelp, fingers flying open in pain and surprise.

The specter of red hair and flashing limbs disappeared into the murk, nothing but a gentle current and a stream of watery starshine in her wake. A wicked crown of branches held her fast, even as the tattered woolen skirt dragged her down toward the bottom of the lake.

Ky twisted her arms, letting her body float upward as she snatched behind her head—but the ropey strands were hopelessly knotted.

Ember will die.

Ember will die… because of you!

She wriggled her fingers into the matted locks and a few threads came loose; the rest snapped at her insistent tugging. Tightening her jaw, she pulled a second time, ripping away a full knot of hair—it drifted in front of her, waving like a black banner from the crooked claws of the tree.

A swirl of inky blood muddied the greenish hue of the lake before fading away in the moonlight. Pain throbbed behind her eyes and panic gnawed her mind.

Ky yanked at her snarled hair—

And screamed.