Page 11 of Rise of the Melody
Yeah, I was not braced enough for those words. Even sitting, I went dizzy. Magic and witches were a stretch, butsiren? A strangled laugh garbled up from my throat.
“Jeebus, Bryant!” Aunt Lorna set her tea down hard, sloshing it out. “You can’t just say it like that!”
“You should havesaid it like thatlong ago!” He peered at me. “And I’m sure you also have nix powers from your father’s side.”
“Wait, nix powers?” I asked, feeling like a boulder had smashed my brains out. I practically yelled, “What isthat?”
“One thing at a time,” Aunt Lorna said in her gentle voice that did nothing to slow my heart. “Siren first. You know what a siren is. Your voice is able to…entrance.”
I slow blinked. Inside my chest, my heart seemed to stall. My voice. My singing. The only thing I’d ever been good at. Now my heart picked up at a sprinter’s pace as I thought about Mr. Goneley and my friends at the club. I covered my mouth. Had I done that to them? I’d felt something wonderful happening inside of myself—empowering, but also dark, like a long dormant weapon had been unsheathed.
“Sirens are bad,” I whispered.
They both stared at me for a beat.
“No, of course not,” Aunt Lorna said, reaching out to grasp my hand.
“Many were.” Mr. MacCray sipped his tea, then set it down. “Mostwere.” In that moment I felt his disdain for me. His distrust. The room spun and I wondered if I might get sick.
“Oh, for Gaia’s sake!” Aunt Lorna glared at him. “The same could be said for druids and nix or any fae creatures for that matter.”
He shook his head, wearing a slight sneer. “On the rare occasion there have been druids who were misguided in their attempts to deal with issues, but sirens have had a history of interfering and challenging authority when they should have stayed in their lane. Not to mention killing for sport.”
Aunt Lorna’s eyes were daggers. “Bullshite, Bryant.”
“Wait, wait,” I interrupted, overwhelmed and not knowing where to begin. “Nix and druids?”
Aunt Lorna pointed to the framed picture hung above the register. It had always been my favorite. Nicneven, the Fairie Queen of Elphame, said to be the Scottish Hecate. In the picture she was half old hag and half gorgeous maiden with long, wild hair.
“Nix are the daughters of Nicneven, and druids are her sons. Different terms, but same magical source. Some were formed ages ago when she gifted them magic, but some are actual blood descendants from the human lovers she took. The MacIntyres and MacCrays are said to be blood descendants of her line.”
My father was a direct descendant of a faerie queen. Therefore, so was I.
As in a queen from the land of Faerie.
A maniacal laugh escaped me.
“Okay.” It wasnotokay. “So, does that mean my mom was…like me?”
“Aye, darling,” Aunt Lorna explained. “Your mother was a siren and your father a druid, like Bryant here. But we didn’t know about your mother until the day of the disappearances. She presented herself as human.”
I closed my eyes feeling the world tilt and spin too fast. “How can I be the only one left?”
“The only one on Earth,” Mr. MacCray corrected. “The others were banished to the faerie realm or executed.”
“Oh, my God.” Acid rose in my esophagus.
“That’s enough.” Aunt Lorna stood and faced Mr. MacCray. “You need to go and let me talk to her alone.” On the last word, her face scrunched, and she grabbed her temples, sitting down hard again.
“Aunt Lorna!” I went to her, falling to my knees at her side. “It’s okay. Deep breaths.” I looked at Mr. MacCray, who watched with no reaction. “She has these painful episodes and headaches.” He nodded, showing no emotion.
When the pain subsided, she took another drink, but she appeared exhausted now.
“We can’t go back to Shehan,” she told Mr. MacCray. “That’s not our life.”
“It is your life whether you like it or not.”
“Letty knows nothing!” Aunt Lorna said.
