Page 90 of To No End

“When I was young, I participated in the same troublemaking that all youth get into. There is lore among my people that if you’re brave enough to swim to the darkest depths of the sea and kiss a siren, then they will bestow the gift upon you for your bravery.”

“But you can breathe underwater, how hard could that have been?” I exclaimed, pointing to the gills behind his ear.

“Ever the astute one.” He smiled. It brought him joy to know I had noticed.

“To find a siren, you have to swim very deep, much farther than most Sea Fae ever need to go. You landlocked Fae can’t even begin to understand the horrors that reside down there from what you read in your texts. Why would you? You’re long dead before you could witness the world at those depths.”

My eyes widened with fear—intrigue.

“But I was determined to get that kiss.”

I tried to picture a young Varro arguing with his mates on the edge of a ship. Each daring the other to leap.

He rolled his thumb down the curve of my foot, and I swear I almost let out a moan.

“So, you swam to the deep blue to impress your friends, fended off a few monsters, locked lips with a siren, and now you have this gift and you used it to make me feel like I was drowning. What else can it do? Do you have to sing for it to work?”

I refused to drop the subject till he fully explained it to me.

He let out an amused laugh and when I tried to pull my foot away again, he refused to let it go.

“No, Cress, you do not have to sing for it to work. You can pretty much make someone feel anything, but once you stop, the effects wear off. They aren’t long-lasting.”

“If you don’t have to sing, why is it called ‘Siren Song’?” I pried.

“Because the sirens lure sailors to the bottom of the sea with their song, making them think they can breathe, that nothing is wrong when they’re drowning them slowly, toying with them till the song turns to silence.”

I knew the lore about singing sirens, their haunting songs, and the traps they set for sailors, but it hadn’t made sense till now. The stories from my childhood just became that much scarierknowing they were somewhat rooted in truth. No wonder my father had tried to scare Versa and me from going in the water. I wonder if he knew the secret the Sea Fae had been keeping about those vicious creatures.

Varro continued to massage my foot, occasionally moving his strong hands along my calf, distracting me.

“With the gift, I can make you feel calm.” Suddenly I felt more relaxed than I could ever remember. “Or I can make you feel sleepy.” An inexplicable yawn escaped my mouth, and my eyelids felt heavy. “I could make you feel sick.” And nausea overcame me.

“Stop, stop,” I yelled, throwing my arms up in exasperation. “Couldn’t you have picked something nice for a demonstration?”

Varro smiled, releasing my foot. “Like what? Love? Lust?”

He raised a playful eyebrow at me, and I couldn’t believe I was entertaining jokes with the same person I would have strangled earlier. Varro was disarming like that. Or charming. I wasn’t entirely sure yet.

“Just one more unique person with some special ability I have to contend with,” I drawled.

It was the most pitiful thing to say, but it felt true. Every time someone excelled, I felt further behind.

“You don’t have to contend with anything, Cress, we’re a team. Everything we have in our arsenal helps all of us survive.”

He wasn’t wrong, but this place was less encouraging. Theory and Saryn rarely praised or complimented us. When they did, it always had a hint of disdain. You were never sure if they meant any of it, and their expectations seemed unachievable. It was a never-ending battle to not doubt myself at every turn.

It was a stark contrast to being in the academy back home. There I had been good at everything and professors weren’t shy about letting me know. My family was proud of my accomplishments and humbly bragged frequently. I knew it wasjuvenile to expect anything like that, but there were times I just needed to hear it.

“I believe you’re going to be the one to make or break this team. We need you, even if you can’t see it yet.”

His words struck me. I wanted to believe them, badly.

Varro grabbed my chin, tilting it up toward him intimately. I glanced to the side nervously, unsure why he’d touch me like that.

“Keep your chin up, Moirai. All that matters is who we become, not who we were.”

That word again, in the old tongue—the one I didn’t know. He’d only done it a few times. Passing in the hallway, occasionally on the sparring floor. He released my chin and began to walk toward the exit of the pool.

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