Page 93 of The Eighth Isle

“What happened?” Grey whispered, putting his arm over my shoulders, looking from the sisters and to Valentine, who was by my other side already.

“Syra, she…she…” My hands moved to my neck instinctively, and I had no idea what to say, how to tell them what Syra had done.She grabbed me by the neck and she put her magic on me, which was cold but didn’t hurt, and then she told me that it was complete, that it was all over, and to not be good?

Valentine and Grey looked at me intently and waited, their unblinking eyes on my face only adding to this incredible pressure, but?—

“She’s gone.”

The three of us turned to the middle of that round plaque and the four siren sisters standing tall, hands linked, naked and covered in dirt and dry blood.

“She’s dead?” Valentine asked, and he was looking at the ground now, at those small piles of grey ashes that had once been Syra.

Gone.

I’d seen it happen with my own eyes, and my own thoughts were battling me about it—it can’t be,they insisted. This wasSyra. The most powerful being in the world. The siren who ruined an entire continent.

All that power…it just wasn’t possible. Where was all that power? She could have killed them all.Shouldhave. There was a reason why she’d been kept dormant for five hundred years.

“She is. We killed her,” said the sirens all together, speaking as one. I could hardly tell where one’s voice ended and the others began. They sounded so, so strange…

“Together, we used our magic to corrupt hers. Together, we ended her,” they continued, and they were smiling, and they looked so, so relieved…

“We are free, at last.” And they raised their eyes to the sky.

Something’s wrong, something’s wrong, something’s wrong?—

“Fall, look at me.”

Grey had his arms around my waist, and I hadn’t even noticed how I was leaning against his chest. Had I been about to collapse just now?

I looked up at his face, at those wide dark-grey eyes, the concern in them crystal clear. Something’s wrong, Grey!Yet I couldn’t say the words out loud because I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to believe them.

“Are you sure?” Valentine said, calling my attention back to him, but he was talking to the sirens.

The sirens who were still smiling like that, and their eyes were sparkling, all those beautiful colors. They looked soyoungso suddenly. So radiant.

“Yes, we are,” said Andya, lowering her head for a moment as her sisters continued to look at the sky. “Syra is gone now. She’s gone forever.”

“Fall,” Grey whispered in my ear, and I realized that I was shaking my head.

Valentine stepped in front of us, and Shadow finally was able to fly high enough to reach his shoulder. “She’s dead,” he told us, lips curling up into a smile—until he saw my face. “What’s wrong?”

“Talk to me, baby,” Grey whispered, but how in the world could I tell them what Ididn’tknow? “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” I said, and I was. I really felt fine. “I just want to go home, okay? Let’s just leave this Isle. Let’s go home.” We could talk in the Whispering Woods. We could figure it all out then.

“Let’s go,” they both said at the same time, and they exchanged a quick look.

Then Valentine turned toward the trees, ready to get the hell out, and Storm took over the sky, too, spreading his wings, moving higher and higher with a roar.

“Won’t you stay a while to celebrate?” the siren sisters said as they smiled sneakily at us. “After all, Ennaris is ours again. Truly ours.”

“It is indeed,” said Fessa.

“And it is a great cause for celebration.” Andya.

“And we should eat and drink and dance to our heart’s desire.” Fessa again.

“Oh, what a joyous night. Syra is gone—what a joyous night!” Oreinne, with tears glistening in her eyes. Happy tears.

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