“How old are you?” is what comes out first.
“I was twenty-five when I set out to find my sister’s cure.”
“What did you do to support yourself?”
He looks around the chamber proudly. “I apprenticed with a stone mason.”
“You helped build this place?”
“Initially, it was made out of wood, but when the land changed, I decided to rebuild out of stone. Not that it mattered if I was exposed to the elements. But privacy is something that I craved dearly, and it barely took any time at all to build with the undead’s help.”
Delightful. Every stone has been touched by rotting fingers.
“Am I allowed to go outside?” I ask.
“That question does not tell you anything about me.”
“Except it does. It will tell me how overbearing you are and what I can expect in the future.”
He tilts his head back and assesses me from lowered eyes, as though trying to decide if I’m being devious or sincere. But he already knows me too well. Surely he must guess.
“When you agree to be mine, you may go outside and do whatever else you wish. Until then, we’re to spend time together.”
I look to the floor, as though trying to hide disappointment.
“Do not look so downcast,” he says. “I have allowed you to keep your weapons. I have offered you food and clothing and shelter. I haven’t harmed a single soul of your crew. These things will continue, but I expect something in return, Sorinda. Your time and patience.”
I let my hand drift toward the hilt of my sword and clench the comforting leather around the handle.
Manipulation.
It’s such an ugly tool men use to get what they want. I saw it time and again with the pirate king. The fact that Threydan is trying it with me makes my blood boil. And in that rich anger that fuels my desire to kill, I realize something very, very important.
“Stop,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Hmm?”
“Stop thinking of yourself as some benevolent person. You let me keep my weapons because I cannot harm you with them. You have offered me clothing that was already here when we arrived and made sure to feed me because you need me alive to accept your offer. You didn’t hurt my crew because, as you said, it would ruin your chances with me. But all these choices? All these things you have done? They’re still about you. You, Threydan, are selfish. You do not think of anyone but yourself. And do you know what I think?
“I think you cannot complete the ritual until I am willing to complete it. Otherwise you would have done it by now. You were able to start it because I was distracted by the onslaught of your memories. But to finish, you need me to agree to it. How close am I?”
His lips tighten; his jaw clenches.
“You’re stuck with me, but I am an unwilling partner. So now what will you do? Hurt me? Hurt my crew? How will that convince me to your side? It won’t.
“You should know by everything you’ve seen of me that I am too clever to believe your lies and omissions. So I’m going to leave now. You’ve given me a lot to think about, and now it’s time to give me some space. We can talk again later.”
I have no intention of speaking with him again, but he can’t know that. He needs to be convinced this is the best way to get him what he wants.
“Which way to the exit?” I ask him.
Threydan says nothing for so long that I worry he’s contemplating horrible ways to punish me for my outburst. But finally, he points. “Through that door. Down the hallway. Make a left.”
I take one step.
“Sorinda.”
My body freezes in place.
“I will let you leave on one condition. The man, Kearan—you must make it perfectly clear that anything he hopes for between you two is not possible. Break his spirit if you must, but he needs to accept that you’re mine now. And should you fail to do this, I will make it clear in a way he will never recover from. Do you understand me?”
I try to swallow past the tightness in my throat. “I understand.”
“Good. I will seek you out in three days’ time. Your crew’s camp is to the south.”
I take another step toward the exit.
“Do not let it be said that I cannot be kind. You want your time? I’m giving it to you. Remember that, dearest.”
“I will,” I say in what I hope is an encouraging tone. I will say anything to get away from this man now.
“You will, of course, wish to move your crew to a location where you think I can’t find you. Don’t bother. You’re always being watched.”
I spin in place. “Do not have your undead follow me.”
“I will do as I wish.”
I turn back around. Take another step toward the exit.
But he speaks again, and I wonder if I will ever make it out of this stone prison.
“As a further show of good faith and my devotion to you, I have a present for you. You’ll find it on your way back to camp.”
“What will I find?” I ask.
“Go before I change my mind.”
I leave, slowly at first, but once I clear the stone shelter, I take off at a run. My muscles are still sore from days of misuse, but they’re about to loosen up from the workout I intend to put them through.
It was too much to hope that he wouldn’t send his undead to follow me, so I take roundabout paths, hide in the trees, move like a cat to lose anything Threydan might have tailing me. He knows where my crew is camped, but with any luck they’ve moved.
What I want—what I need—is to be alone. Truly alone where nothing and no one is watching me. I need time to think. Time to process. To understand. To plan my next move.
And I need to do it without the undead breathing down my neck.
I scale down some sort of ravine, run across a frozen stream, and race back up the next side. I try to control my breathing, in case Threydan can hear it through his undead. I’ve long suspected he can see through their eyes, but I don’t know how else he’s able to use them.
At a noise behind me, I duck into some thick bushes, scrabbling under them and holding my breath as an undead walks by, his head tilting in every direction. When he passes, I scurry out and take off toward my crew’s camp, but of course the undead are all headed that way. They’re keeping eyes on me. I can hide and duck all I like, but it’s useless. If they don’t run into me, I’ll run into them.
For once in my life, I give up being stealthy. It will get me nowhere.
The thought is terrifying.
I’m so very afraid of the turn my life has taken. I thought my ship sinking in a strange land was as bad as it could get.
How very wrong I was.
Though I miss the way my body used to be, it still reacts the way it should to strong emotions. My skin feels ready to burst from the internal pressure. From thoughts of Threydan’s hand on me to the threats he made against those I’m supposed to protect.
I’m dealing with forces far greater than I thought possible. After Alosa reconciled with her mother, I thought we were done having troubles with sirens. But of course there is more than one charm in the world. Just as there is more than one school of fish or community of humans.
These northern sirens have caused quite a fuss, and then they left so they wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences. Not that they’re still around. Sirens live longer than humans, but not a thousand years, as far as I know. Threydan likely wants to hunt down all sirens, for they are all that pose a threat to him.