Page 91 of MidKnight
They stood next to the musicians. And then one of them spoke. “Quiet.”
The reaction was immediate. Everyone in the room stopped talking. Respectful silence ensued. The siren’s voice was far more effective than mine was even from the throne. Heads turned toward the beautiful woman with the light green eyes.
She smiled, “For far too long, Sedara has kept us all chained. They’ve ruled the seas with a heavy hand. And we haven’t had the power to stop them. Until now.”
“Hear hear!” Several men clanked their steins together and downed their ale.
“We will not stand by and be used any longer. We won’t be the playthings of a selfish queen. A greedy one who bleeds us dry. The time has come. Sedara has been weakened. Our power has increased. And we need to move, now.”
“How’s Sedara weak?” one man called out. “I haven’t heard nothin’ about no ships being blowed up.”
“They’ve lost their chess piece. The one thing that held back the sea does so no longer.”
My heart tightened. She could only mean Avia. I was disgusted she’d referred to my sister as a chess piece. My heart ached for Avia. I bit my lip and felt like a dunce.
Eight kingdoms. The sea was the eighth kingdom. Sedara ruled the seas. The mer creatures didn’t want Queen Diamoni to rule them anymore—
The siren cut off my thoughts as she continued, “Rasle and Cheryn are leading the charge against the tyrant. They’re gathering near the shore. They’re ready to move soon. We seek those who wish to join.”
“What about Evaness? Why aren’t we leading this? Those fools outta Rasle don’t know nothing!” a curly-haired man shouted from the far corner of the room.
The siren’s eyes flashed a bright yellow in her anger. She said, “Evaness hasnorespect for the sea. No respect for others. Their house is full of thieves. The queen here is allied with Sedara. She only supports Sedara’s oppression.”
The magical sea community was angry at Sedara’s control. And furious at my house for mother’s thievery.
Shite, the gears clicked in my head. My mother was a fool. She’d stolen a siren? That’s why these women raged. That’s why they’d left the ocean and come all this way. That’s why they recruited my own people under my very nose.
I gulped as I realized how awful the situation really was. The magical sea races were tight knit. If Avia was a siren, we weren’t facing just the fury of women who could lure sailors to drown. We faced all kinds of creatures from the deep.
While I processed that revelation, mutters and mumbles spread through the crowd as quick as fire.
“I heard the queen enslaved that prince from Cheryn,” one man called out.
The siren nodded.
Moten anger filled my core. That was a lie.
I bristled, my mouth opened, but then I snapped it closed. I was here to observe. Here to gain knowledge. I doubted I’d be able to change the minds or hearts in this tavern.
Quinn watched me closely, and when he realized I had my reactions under control, he nodded, turning back to the room.
The conversation only grew worse. Complaints about the crown, taxes—name it, and I was blamed for it.
One man even blamed his wife’s inability to conceive on a curse I’d brought upon the nation.
The sirens waited patiently until the din quieted. They like their audiences seething, it appeared.
I certainly was.
Until the second siren stood and walked to stand next to her companion. She opened her mouth. And started to sing. Her voice was like a warm summer wind and a beam of sunshine.
Quinn grabbed my arm and hustled me out the back door into the alley. Ryan’s guards didn’t make it after us. They were caught in the golden web her voice.
Even so, the few notes I heard had me dizzy and giddy.
We ran down the alley and around a corner. My chubby male body was gasping by then, so Quinn stopped, and we took the reversal potion.
I could run much better as myself than the pudgy man from my disguise. I watched Quinn’s bulbous nose recede and his handsome smile restore itself. His half elf ears became more pointed. He pulled bottles of Flight from inside his vest. We drank them. Then we jumped into the frigid night air.
