Page 3 of When the Wicked Sing
The truth of what happened that fateful day remained shrouded in mystery. Some said Cybele had slain the heir, while others whispered that she had tried to save him. Whatever the case, the fae king’s wrath knew no bounds. Without trial or evidence, he banished all sirens from the fae realm, condemning them to an existence of suffering and exile. He razed the sirenqueendom to the ground, forcing the survivors to flee for their lives.
The bitter, imaginary taste of death and smoke formed on Mariana’s tongue, and she hardly noticed when someone sidled up next to her. The Siren Witch touched Mariana’s arm, startling her from her clouded thoughts.
The witch’s hands were stained black from the ritual of wrapping the bodies before cremation. Her polished claws were long and so sharp that they could easily slice open a vein in the blink of an eye. Mariana shook her head to immediately cut off the dark thought. She lifted her eyes and caught her mother’s intimidating stare. She realized her role in the ceremony was next.
After giving her a curt nod, the witch retreated behind Cybele. With a steadying breath to calm her heart, Mariana slowly raised her hands as her power came forth with its familiar buzz. Carefully, she commanded the surrounding water to gently lift all three pallets to eye level.
Just as they’d done hundreds of times before, the sirens behind her started to sing their final song as the queen used the staff she held to push each pallet forward. The purple flames enveloped the bodies, and the flaring heat blasted Mariana’s skin. Her voice cracked as she sang goodbye to her fallen sisters, imagining their journey to the afterlife.
The song faded, and Luna’s muffled sobs replaced the sad melody.
“Luna.” Mariana gently grabbed her sister’s hand and pulled her into an embrace. They held each other with the stone box clutched tightly between their bodies.
“She’s not dead. She can’t be. My heart knows she’s still out there,” Luna whispered, her voice quivering.
Mariana rested her head on Luna’s and held her tighter. “She could still be alive. We don’t know for sure, but—”
“But I do know!” Luna cried out. “I do. She’s alive. She has to be. Please, find her.”
Mariana softly hushed Luna’s wailing and unfolded her arms to put her hands on Luna’s shoulders. She held her gaze, and when she tucked Luna’s silvery hair behind her pointed ear, she saw the gills on her neck inhaling and exhaling rapidly. Unable to look into the sad eyes of her sister any longer, Mariana fixed her gaze instead on the tattooed moon phases on Luna’s forehead. Like all their tattoos, they glowed gently when in contact with the sea.
“Luna, if she’s still alive, then I will find her. If she isn’t—” Mariana gently halted the start of Luna’s protesting. “If her soul is wandering, we have to say goodbye. Amphitrite needs to guide Astra on her journey to peace. We can’t delay it any longer. And if she is alive, Amphitrite will hear us and …” Mariana choked and breathed deeply to steady herself. “And she will guide Astra back home.” She gave an encouraging nod to Luna, then placed her hand over the box’s lid, right on top of Astra’s carved name.
Cybele’s right hand settled over Mariana’s, and their eyes met briefly before the Siren Witch placed a hand on Cybele’s right shoulder. When the comforting hands of her blood sister, Aurora, rested on both her shoulders, Mariana closed her eyes. She silently prayed to the Goddess to guide Astra to peace and herself to find justice forher sister.
She listened to Luna weep and opened her eyes to watch as the free hands of every remaining siren alive were placed on each other’s shoulders, encircling Astra’s unopened box.
Chapter 2
Thesunsoaredacrossthe sky like a falling star until twilight descended, quieting the crashing waves and seabirds. From one shade of darkness to another, Mariana lifted herself from the sea onto a line of rocks not far from the beach ahead of her. Her nails sank deep into the slick algae to keep herself from falling before she settled onto her elbows. Crabs skittered across the rocks, making Mariana scrunch her nose as she flicked one of them away.
Her gaze homed in on the dark waves crashing against the sand. It was the mortal island of Tassos, one of many within the Andros Islands. The village was settled beside a river where they grew crops, herbs, and spices for trade. Lanterns surrounded by mesmerized insects hung on wooden posts around the village paths, casting a soft glow through the fog.
No sign of them yet, she thought to herself.
Aurora appeared beside her so quietly that Mariana didn’t notice until they were shoulder to shoulder. The skittering crabs made more noise than her, but Mariana expected nothing less. After all, her sister was a lethal warrior.
She glanced at her, at their touching shoulders. Where Mariana’s pale blue skin blended into the sea, Aurora’s brushed brass skin stood out. But under the cloudy night, she could hardly tell the difference between their shoulders, except that Mariana’s was covered in tattoos.
Their hair whipped gently in the wind, mingling the dark teal and blood red strands. Mariana lifted a finger to her sister’s golden cuff, tracing the geometric pattern carved within. Mariana’s bracelet—a fiber cord threaded with colorful shells and beads—was a cheap comparison to the beautiful cuff. Aurora had made it herself; she loved gold jewelry and made everything she wore, from the several earrings piercing her ears to the necklaces around her neck. She said it made her happy, and she deserved it after everything she’d gone through. Happiness was a rarity in Salus.
After the Banishment, Salus became a haven for the last remaining sirens. It was a long-forgotten ruin at the bottom of the Leruna Sea. It was deep enough that any creature without the ability to breathe underwater would drown or be crushed by the pressure before they could reach it.
The few siren survivors, many of whom were skilled architects, engineers, sculptors, and designers, rebuilt Salus into a fortress that would stand the test of time. Queen Cybele called it their sanctuary; Mariana called it their grave.
The only way sirens could reproduce was with male fae. When sirens were suddenly forced out of the fae realm, reproduction plummeted. Their numbers had dropped steadily for years as the old grew weary and frail, eventually dying.
“They’re here,” Aurora whispered, and Mariana snapped her eyes up to the dark, lapping water ahead of them.
Cursed sirens approached the beach slowly, their heads peeking out of the water, their tails lapping gently in the waves.
They began to sing. A soft, eerie melody sent chills over Mariana’s skin.
“We shouldn’t be here,” she heard Aurora mutter.
Mariana’s gaze hardened. She had to see this. She wanted to understand what happened during the culling. But when she turned her head and saw the concern in her older sister’s golden eyes, she understood.
The culling was forbidden to watch or partake in by anyone who wasn’t cursed or ready to accept the Scourge. But no matter what Cybele said, Mariana was the heir; she had to know. And Aurora wouldn’t let her do this alone. Together, they would watch the darkness unfold.
