Page 1 of Song of Her Siren

Part One

Family Feuds, Familiars, and the Forgotten Daughter

Prologue

Shirina

Caldaria/The Periculian Forest

17 years earlier

Shiri woke to a hollowache in her gut and a chilly draft blowing across her nape, snaking its way through the holes in her gown. Normally, she relied on Tari’s warmth to help her sleep, but as she reached across the loft bed she shared with her sister, she found only an empty space.

She rolled over, a feather quill poking through their thin mattress and digging into her side, and squinted in the dark. Beneath their loft, she spied their mother rocking in her chair beside the kitchen table, flickering lamplight illuminating the lines framing her mouth and the trembling child in her arms.

Tari.What was wrong? Another nightmare?

Shiri climbed down the ladder, ignoring the sting of the frigid wood slats that pierced her threadbare stockings, and quietly tiptoed toward the rocking chair. Her heart faltered when her mother’s mouth twisted, a flash of annoyance in her eyes.

She should’ve been used to her mother’s scorn by now, but each scowl and harsh word from Mother was like the sting of a whip across her flesh. It saddened her that her mother loathed her so. She always did her chores without complaint, even taking on some of Tari’s duties, just to prove that she was a good girl. She tried extra hard when practicing her numbers and letters, hoping their mother would praise her intelligence like their father did. But their mother either didn’t notice or didn’t care, for Shiri rarely received a kind word or tender touch from her, only looks of mistrust. It was almost as if their mother was waiting for Shiri to turn evil like Aunt Malvolia.

“Mommy,” she whispered as she sat on a bench opposite her, “what’s wrong with Tari?”

Tari whimpered while pressing her face against Mother’s bosom.

“She had a bad dream.” Mother’s tone was brittle, like the snap of frost underfoot. Her eyes flared again. “Go back to bed.”

Shiri would’ve obeyed if not for the sharp blade of sorrow that jumped from Tari and pierced her chest. How well she was attuned to her twin’s emotions. How many nights she’d held her crying sister in her arms. Tari was always worrying that Aunt Malvolia would find them and torture or kill them.

She tugged on Tari’s sleeve, wishing her sister would face her. “Was it about our aunt?”

“Did you hear me, Shirina?” Mother hissed. “Go back to bed.”

Tari lifted her head, blinking at Shiri like a frightened baby bird. “Yes, it was about Aunt Malvolia. She was choking you with black magic.”

Shiri clutched her throat, fear and dread coursing through her veins. “Sh-she was choking me?”

Mother let out an aggravated groan.

“Yes.” Tari swiped tears from her eyes. “And I couldn’t stop her.”

Shiri’s throat tightened. What if it was more than a dream? What if her sister could see into the future? Would Aunt Malvolia kill her with her choking magic? And if so, would Mother cry for her dead child, or would she be relieved to be rid of her?

Mother tenderly stroked Tari’s hair, kissing the top of her head. “It was just a dream, dearest.”

Shiri trembled, wishing she could also find solace in Mother’s arms, but Mother had scolded her too many times when she’d climbed into her lap, saying she hurt her with her bony knees and elbows. But Tari had similar knees and elbows, and she was always welcome in Mother’s arms. Shiri willed back the moisture in her eyes long enough to go back to bed. Yes, she could’ve used her persuasive voice to cajole her mother into holding her, but she wanted her mother to want to love her. Wrapping her arms around herself, she faced the warped wooden wall and let the tears silently fall while wondering what she’d done to make her mother loathe her so.

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