Page 114 of Song of Her Siren

Clutching her roiling gut, she raced into her bathing chamber and vomited into the chamber pot, heaving and hurling until there was nothing left but bile. Her world tipped and spun as she finally sat back on her heels, wiping spit and vomit from her mouth. Her chest felt as if it was being split open as more and more memories assailed her, the paranoia that ruled her while she’d slaughtered entire villages if she suspected they’d harbored her twin. Dear Goddess, she’d been a monster. And now that she had full recollection of her sordid past, she wanted nothing more than to fling herself from the tallest turret.

But no. Her returned memories meant Thorin was now dead and a new, even more evil demon had acquired his powers. When that demon struck, Malvolia would be ready to protect her sister, though she knew it wouldn’t make up for her past atrocities. She didn’t expect Flora’s forgiveness. How could she, after all she’d done?

Malvolia owed it to Flora to protect her by destroying every last demon. Only when Malvolia was certain Flora’s children and grandchildren wouldn’t have to endure the tragedy of turning on one another would she turn a poisoned blade upon her own blackened heart, for she couldn’t live in a world where her beloved sister scorned her.

* * *

Tari

IDREAMED I WAS A CHILDpicking berries with Shiri. Our mother scolded Shiri for staining her only frock with berry juice. I’d been worried our mother would scold me, too, for my frock was also smeared with juices. Mother looked crossly at my frock, then took me in her arms and showered me with kisses when I showed her the dab of blood on my thumb after I’d pricked it on a thorn.

An overwhelming sense of guilt tightened my chest. What a spoiled, selfish child I’d been, and yet, Shiri had never acted resentful toward me. I remember her helping our mother wrap a bandage around my thumb, even though the blood was no bigger than a pinprick. Then Mother made oatcakes and gave me extra berry syrup. Shiri had to have seen, yet she never complained.

She’d always been the better sister, the one with the purest heart, a bright red rose trying to reach for the sun while being strangled by an overgrowth of poisonous vines.

“Tari, are you awake?”

I woke with a groan, blinking up at my handsome prince as he stared down at me, his brow pinched with concern and watery morning sunlight casting a halo around his silvery hair. I heard a fire crackling nearby, and my stomach rumbled when I was assailed by the heavenly smell of warm butter and cinnamon. Where were we?

“Helian, what happened?”

He held a hand down to me. “You passed out after opening the portal.”

I took his hand and sat up, recognizing the furs by the warm hearth in Lars’s humble cottage. I heard humming nearby and spotted Lynette stirring a pot above the hearth, her fawn-like ears rotating while she tapped a hoof to the sound of a catchy tune. We’d made it to the satyr village.

I rubbed sleep from my eyes. “How long did I sleep?”

“All night,” Helian answered.

All night? Panic tightened my throat. Finn and Nikkos could be dead by now. “Why did you let me?” I asked accusingly.

“You’d used too much magic,” he said while handing me a cool goblet of milk. “Nobody could wake you.”

I wanted to jump to my feet and demand we go, but a cyclone of dizziness spun in my skull, and I was too weak to move from this spot. “We have to get to Finn and Nikkos,” I said with a groan while clutching my goblet.

Helian thanked Lynette when she handed him a wooden bowl of porridge. He knelt in front of me while scooping the porridge into a spoon. “You have to eat first.”

I arched away when he held the spoon out to me. “I don’t know if I can.”

He dropped the spoon back into the bowl. “You need your strength if you’re to make another portal.”

When bile projected into my throat, I waved the spoon away. “Where are the girls?”

“Playing with the satyr children.” He held out the spoon again, his tone impatient when he said, “You need to eat before we can go.”

Making a face, I turned my head away. “I’m too nauseated.”

“I can make you a tea, Goddess,” Lynette said as she clomped toward the small kitchen and removed a jar of herbs from the shelf.

“No!” I blurted, regretting my harsh tone when she flinched. “No tea, thank you.” I dropped my voice to a soothing whisper while forcing a smile. “Milk and porridge will be more than enough.”

I took slow sips of milk until the nausea subsided. Then I took the bowl from Helian and fed myself.

Lynette gladly refilled my bowl as I mindlessly ate while staring at the fire. I remembered Demon eating oats on the floor beside the hearth, how his ears and back twitched with happiness. Though it had only been a little over a month since we’d last been here, it felt like several lifetimes ago. I missed my rabbits and prayed the satyrs in Fallax were taking good care of them. Aurora would have to take us to Fallax to retrieve the rabbits and check on the satyrs and wyverns.

After I finished the porridge, I burped into my fist and let Helian lead me to the edge of the forest where I could relieve myself. We passed several satyrs with stoic faces who reverently bowed to me before continuing on their way. Some were stacking bags of grains, many were forging weapons, while others were reinforcing the fortress walls I’d made for them out of vines with another wall of stone. A hush had fallen about the place as the satyrs worked, the tension in the air as thick as soup. Only the smaller children played while the others worked alongside the adults. Nobody sang. Nobody smiled. They were afraid.

I spied my girls among a group of smaller satyrs. Rather than playing tag or sticks and stones, they huddled together, sharing secrets in sibilant whispers.

---