“I only know what your mother told me,” he rushed out. “We haven’t had any of the side effects that they had. It could be because we settled on Calandry land. It could be because that trait died out. We don’t know, except that you weren’t affected. It’s even more proof as to why King Branncynal wanted to rule Calandry, and why they hate the Denai.”
Bearen’s hand rose in warning, and he cocked his head and listened. I strained to hear what he was listening to and heard it as well. A commotion on the far side of camp. Bearen picked up his sword and ran. I followed closely at his heels, my heart pumping with anxiety. I jumped over a fallen log, pushing past the swinging branches that my father inadvertently sent crashing into me as his large form broke through them.
He stopped, and I almost ran into his large back. I nimbly jumped aside and saw what caught his attention. A large group of clan members had surrounded a wild and mute girl. Odin held a lit torch. Apparently, one too many visitors on the same night warranted a breech in protocol.
Bearen pushed forward but kept his distance from the one causing the ruckus.
The girl’s dark hair was tangled, her skin smudged with dirt. Even her dress was frayed and tattered. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish, but no sound came forth. Her hands were splayed out in front of her like she was balancing above an invisible crevice, and she looked like she was about to fall over.
“Siobhan?” Fenri stepped out from the back of the ever-growing crowd of warriors. He moved to stand in front of her and tried to reach for her hand. It was my cousin, but something was off about her. There was something about her eyes. When she turned, I saw an odd color reflected in moonlight.
She turned her eerie silver eyes on me, and I was startled at our resemblance. Same hair coloring, same silver-tinted eyes. I was looking at myself. I took a step closer and a slow, evil grin slid up her face. But it looked forced.
“They come,” she called out. Her voice sounded hollow, empty. I felt my heart break in sorrow as I saw the marks upon her arms. She never made it to her aunt’s. She’d been taken by the Septori, like I was.
But this time, they knew who they’d caught. They’d found another Siren.
My heart thudded loudly in my chest as fear ripped through my body. I swallowed and tried to focus my gifts and to see her. To truly see her.
It took a few tries, but I blinked and I saw the shadow that surrounded her. Also, a dark purple thread of light wrapped around her heart and led into the woods. The shadow that I saw within Siobhan wasn’t as dark or large as the one I could see within myself.
But the thread of power troubled me. It meant that she was being controlled. Just as the Raven controlled animals, just as Mona controlled humans. Siobhan wasn’t acting of her own accord. A puppet. But who was pulling the strings, and why was she here?
Siobhan’s body started to shake and I could see the thread of power connected to her start to wane, thin out, and disappear. She fell to the ground and looked up at me, her arms reaching out to me, pleading.
“Help me! It hurts. It hurts so much!” She wrapped her arms around her stomach and began to rock back and forth, crying. Big tears slid down her face and dropped into the soft, darkened earth. I knew the pain she was in, the gut wrenching fire that consumed one during the change. Fenri gave a little cry of anguish and ran forward to help Siobhan up off the ground.
“Don’t touch her!” Syrani cried out and entered the circle. Fenri pulled back and gave her a frustrated look. She rushed forward and stared off into the woods where the thread dissipated. Her hands clenched into fists and she looked between the crying girl and the disappearing thread. Syrani turned to frown at me and then stared back into the woods, worried. She had evidently come to the same conclusion I had.
Siobhan’s cries continued, and I could see Fenri on the verge of ignoring Syrani’s warning. I teetered between feeling somewhat responsible and helpless. A few seconds more and Syrani stood up and turned to look not at me but at my father.