Page 85 of Golden Queen (Idrigard #1)

Thirty

We slept on the soft moss. The cavern was so warm that we didn't even bother with our clothes. We just curled up on the moss, and I fell asleep with my head on his shoulder.

I dreamed of the burned angels, but I could remember what they once looked like.

They were tall and proud, warrior angels like the ones in the cathedral—like Danu and Amundur.

Or beneficent creatures like the ones depicted in the paintings in Albiyn—the ones holding their baskets of golden godsgrass seeds.

I was saddened by the knowledge of what they had become.

"What happened to you?" I asked, but they didn't answer. "What burned you?" I tried again.

The angel's eyes went cold and terrible. It tilted its head, mouth sliding open further and further until its face was a twisted mockery of a human face. Its mouth filled with black fire, the flames snaking up and out of its throat covered its face and twisted around and around each other.

The angel looked at me again, and suddenly, I was chained, my arms suspended above my head as it shuddered, snapping its mouth closed with a click.

I woke to the sound of splashing water.

I sat up, looking around the gloom, searching the water for some sign of movement.

Io's hand came around my stomach as he reached up for me. He seemed to realize I was sitting, so he followed me up.

I heard another splash, and Io was on his feet behind me.

A pale shape started to coalesce in the shadows across the pool. The gentle sound of lapping water followed as it materialized out of the darkness.

It was a woman. Her long black hair was plastered to her skull, but it flowed out madly in all directions just on the surface of the water. It moved as though alive—like writhing snakes or...tentacles, I realized.

Unnaturally large eyes seemed to take up most of the space on her pale face as she swam closer. Arms fanned out around her, moving quickly, propelling her closer.

Her head didn't bob in the water as it should have done. Instead, it seemed frozen in space as her body, still mostly concealed in the opaque blue water, moved in too-quick movements. It reminded me of fish darting back and forth.

I heard the scrape of metal on stone as Io reached for his sword, but I held a hand up to stop him. I didn't have any sense that we were in danger.

As the woman reached the shallow water, her body began to ascend out of the pool. Pale thin shoulders surrounding a sunken form—her sharp collar bones standing out starkly against her mottled pale skin.

Her breasts reached the surface, and bone white nipples appeared over the water, followed by a rib cage just as hollow and sunken as the rest of her frame. She was little more than bones and thin, pallid skin.

But as the water began to flow down from her body, she changed.

Pallid, sunken flesh became supple, white skin.

Her small, pointed breasts rounded, becoming voluptuous.

Even her features perfected in the absence of the water, leaving the same large eyes in a perfectly lovely face.

Heart-shaped red lips were set in a soft, gentle smile.

Another just like her reached the shallows to her left. Sunken, fish-like body rose from the water, revealing a beautiful dark-skinned woman.

And yet another, further back, moving with the same jerky fish-like movements under the water while the head remained still above it. She rose in the shallows just as a fourth woman emerged behind her.

Io stepped in front of me with his sword held out defensively.

I stood, feeling a thickness in the air and a whooshing sound in my ears. I only realized I couldn’t hear when I stepped forward and my foot made no sound on the stones.

I gave Io a dark look.

He widened his eyes meaningfully before the whooshing retreated and my hearing returned.

Four beautiful women stood before us with lovely, expressive faces and varying shades of hair from black to red to gold—all that strange texture that seemed alive, wiggling like thin, wispy worms around their heads and shoulders.

"Morrigan," the women said in one strange, ululating voice, using a truly ancient word for queen.

They bowed to me, lowering their heads to the rocky, cave floor.

I could see clear lines where rows of gills ran down the sides of their necks and thin, sharp-looking translucent fins rose from their backs.

"Hello," I said dumbly, stepping around Io, who gave me another look of warning. I ignored him and moved to the first of the sirens.

I knew we could not be far from the sea since the Twilight Gap was such a narrow strip of land, but I was still very surprised to see them in the mineral pool.

"Please, rise," I said to the first, the one closest to me with midnight black hair.

I reached down to touch her lightly on her pale shoulder just beside the central razor-sharp fin. Her skin was cool and smooth.

The siren looked up at me and blinked unnaturally fast. The large, glossy black orbs seemed to wink in and out of existence as she fluttered her eyelids.

She smiled with a mouth of needle-sharp teeth. "This...is a pleasure of meeting you, Morrigan," she said in mildly broken Alterran. She had a strange accent that made her lyrical voice sound unnaturally light and insubstantial.

"The pleasure is mine," I told her as the sirens all stood as if their bodies were one living being, their movements mirroring each other down the smallest detail.

Even their hair seemed to writhe in unison.

"What’s your name?" I asked her, entirely unsure how to proceed with greeting sirens.

Was there some protocol I should follow?

"We are Fellyanorsa," the first Siren said, bowing her head slightly. It was the first movement of the four that was not mirrored in the other three.

"Cambrica," another said, her voice slightly deeper, but no less musical. Her living hair was a bright, burnished red, her skin like polished jet.

"Withia," added the golden-haired siren. She smiled brightly at me with her mouthful of sharp teeth as she bowed her head over clasped hands. Her long fingers, tipped by sharp talon-like nails, were connected by a delicate transparent webbing.

The final siren, her soft brown hair gently writhing around blue-tinged shoulders, her belly rounded in an obviously advanced stage of pregnancy, said softly. "We are Tekta, Your Majesty."

I turned to Io, now at my side. He stood before the sirens, still completely naked, without a hint of embarrassment, and I realized I had not felt any myself. The sirens were, of course, as naked as we were. "This is Amon Aldur, Lord of Darkwatch," I told them.

As one, they turned and gave him a smaller, but still very respectful bow.

"Well-met," he said, tipping his head in their direction and finally letting his sword point fall.

"What brings you from the sea?" I asked.

"We are waiting for Aelia of Windemere," Fellyanorsa said. "We felt your summons."

I narrowed my eyes, confused.

Io leaned in. "The magic," he said.

"Oh," I replied. "I didn't mean to do that, actually." I gave her an apologetic smile, figuring I must have disturbed them all the way out in the sea.

Fellyanorsa smiled back. "The king bid us to bring you this gift."

"The king?" I asked as she turned and held out her hand behind her in some signal.

Two identical heads appeared in the blue water. They were both dark, with the same living strands of long hair, but the bodies were wholly different.

Male, I realized as their chests rose above the waterline. Their muscular frames were broader, and their genitals hung quite prominently between their legs. Their bodies changed much less subtly as they emerged from the water.

Cambrica and Withia both giggled, their movements mirrored as they turned away and placed a hand over their mouths shyly.

One of the males looked pointedly at Tekta, and the siren's hand went straight to her rounded belly as though seeing him was a reminder of who had put the child there. It was an obvious indication, at least to me, that he was her partner...husband...whatever sirens called their mates.

Between the two male sirens, they carried a long, wooden box, banded in shining silver. Their arms, thickly corded with muscle, strained under the weight of the thing.

As the males placed the box on the stones at my feet, Fellyanorsa answered my question.

"High King Vulcan, Lord of the Seas and Sirens, Lord of Tides and Storms, Lord of Scale and Serpent, Smith of the Forge of Rehdan, has forged this with his own hand for Aelia of Windemere, Star-born Guardian of the Elderwood, Shield Against the Black Flame, and Protector of the Eleven Realms, so that she may defend Idrigard from the rising fell march of death. "

The words clanged around in my head like a hammer. That was not broken Alterran. That felt more like an ode—to me! I was rendered speechless as I watched the male sirens reach down to open the box.

As the lid was raised, a wave of clear seawater washed out. It poured out of the box in a torrent, as though it had been under some pressure. I could smell the fresh, briny scent.

It washed out and out and out, far more than should have fit inside the box rushed all around our feet in a wave of warm ocean water.

And when the water stopped flowing, I saw a perfectly dry, white velvet cloth with a sword laid on top.

My hand was drawn to the hilt as though by some force between me and the blade. It was drawing me down, my palm itching to feel the supple black leather of the grip.

I was kneeling beside the box before I realized I had moved.

And then she was in my hand, mirror bright steel glinted as though reflecting some bright light from the cave even though there was nothing more than the faint glow of the vines and the starry night sky above.

I felt her power. Sangui, she whispered, introducing herself to me. I knew the word. It meant blood.