Page 21 of Of Rime and Ruin (Sirens of Adria #2)

Chapter nineteen

Nahla

Make him your bitch.

Next time I see Keen—if I ever get out of here—I’m going to thank him for my new favorite mantra.

My summoning song spirals out of my mouth, muffled by my hand. I’ve been calling for the Beast for the past hour with no luck. As my spell weaves through the water, searching for my target, I recite my plan to myself.

I can’t leave a job unfinished. If I break all the rules, I’m going to do it right. I’m thorough as fuck in my little rebellions.

First, I’ll befriend this Beast. I’ll use my magic to master his mind and bend it to my will.

I’ll start small, impressing him with simple tasks.

Then comes phase two: get him to finish the tunnel Perrin started for me.

I’ll break into the castle. Explore the fuck out of it.

And then I’ll leave the Rime, escorted by the king’s own pet.

Once I break all his rules, I’ll be out of here, and the Frost King will get his dues. It’s foolproof.

I’ll work at night. The king forbade me from interacting with this creature. Whether the Beast is dangerous or there’s another reason, I’m not sure, but I won’t bring Perrin into my mess. He’s too good to spoil so young.

The night guard, on the other hand, is a sorry fellow named Vaughn who holds little regard for his job. From the moment his shift started, he settled to the floor, tucking his tail into a comfortable spiral, and leaned against the wall. He fell asleep in minutes.

Easy.

I sense the clawbeast near the beach as he enters the reach of my spell.

My mind lifts, twists, and penetrates. His guard is lowered this time.

I slip beneath his hardened shell, finding myself amid those black, angry swirls of thought.

They rise at my presence, slithering closer, wrapping around me with curious caresses. Cold. But not enough to freeze.

Come see me? I smirk. Gods, I hope this works.

His center of self glows, flaring brighter at the touch of my Voice. The surrounding shadows lighten in color, a soft gray with a tint of blue. I approach the center, gently brushing it with my mind. He might let me—

The Beast recoils. The clouds of thoughts rear, sharpening at the edges.

Too far. I retreat to the edge of his mind. Whoa, there, Beasty. We’re friends, remember?

He doesn’t attack. Yet. I wait as his mind glides closer, closer, until finally, a shadow falls over the entrance to the tunnel that holds my frosted cage. The temperature grows impossibly colder.

Then his body appears, a dark silhouette against the dim twilight waters. I can’t make out his features, only the muscular outline of his body as it floats. Behind him, his long spiny tail twitches, the barbed tip flicking.

Hey there, Beasty. Did you miss me?

His thoughts soften, easing into curiosity.

That’s it, big guy. Come say hi. Quietly now. We don’t want to wake poor Vaughn.

My heart thrums as he glides into the tunnel, silent as the dead.

He lands in a crouch at the iron gate, tucking his tail and anchoring his claws around the bars.

His form crowds the space, and he ducks his head to avoid the ceiling.

He glances at a sleeping Vaughn, and I swear his eyes roll a little.

Then his gaze is on me, two black orbs sparkling in the low light.

Inside his mind, I brush against his center of self. Testing. His mind shivers at my touch. He’s not ready for full mind control. We’ll have to start smaller.

I glide closer, raising my hands in surrender. His eyes follow my movement, cautious. Wonder if you might do me a favor?

His thoughts slither closer, caressing me with invitation.

Here goes nothing. My projection is simple and focused: the pain in my stomach as it twists on empty. Weakness in my bones. The taste of meat, salty and fresh.

Understanding colors his thoughts. Then his inner voice rumbles deep and cold: Hungry?

He sounds like thunder on the open sea, terrifying and beautiful all at once. I shudder as fear runs along my spine, and I get the feeling I’ve trespassed somewhere I should never have wandered.

Most minds communicate in images, colors, or emotions. But words? What type of being is this?

I’m in too deep to stop now.

Yes, I’m hungry . Would you hunt for me, please?

He sends me the image of a silverfish between his teeth, fat and juicy.

I nod eagerly. Yes, please .

He snorts, bubbles flowing out of his mouth. His face presses into the bars, eyes growing large and hungry as he studies me. He parts his mouth, revealing a double row of sharp, white teeth. He stretches through the bars, and I eye his paw as fear flares in my gut.

Nahla is a friend , I remind him. Not food.

He blinks. Cocks his head. His claws curl in, leaving one to point at me. Crouching lower, his impossibly large frame sinks to my level. He holds my gaze as his voice rumbles through my mind: Nah-la .

Something inside me unhitches at the sound of my name in that rich bass tone. His thoughts surround me, circling, prodding, as if trying to enter my soul. I hold still as the dark clouds whisper past.

I’m flooded with a sense of amusement, then one word: Cute .

I frown.

He dips his head, tucking his nose into my cell. My skin tingles. And then the Beast sniffs me.

Cute , he repeats with satisfaction.

I’m not cute. My name is Nahla. I’m hungry, and I’m being serious.

He hums. His mind swirls, solidifying into a singular image. A small golden fish, with a wide sailfin. A sunfish. Then, Cute.

I roll my eyes. Sunfish are not cute. They’re unintelligent, herd-minded animals that are easily manipulated for a quick kill.

Sunfish hungry , he says with a note of determination. I fix.

Then, quiet as he came, he releases the cage and slips out of the tunnel. I squint into the darkness as the bubbles settle around the place his body occupied.

I uncurl my fists, noticing now how tightly I’ve clenched them.

It worked.

He’s not eating me—he’s feeding me.

I smile, settling against the wall to wait. My fists press into my stomach to stifle its hungry protests.

I keep the connection open, maintaining my spell with a near-silent hum.

His vision plays in his thoughts, and I watch him slither through the water, scent his prey, and track a swarm of silverfish.

He pierces their formation, snatching one from the water.

He eats his first catch, tearing into its flesh with ravenous teeth.

Sunfish hungry. Fix. He refocuses, targeting another fish.

Soon enough, he returns with it wriggling in his mouth. His teeth bite into the flesh, pinning the catch with a trickle of blood.

He crawls through the tunnel, careful to avoid Vaughn. On the floor, the guard moans, shifting in his sleep.

The silverfish thrashes in the jaws of death.

I sigh. That meat’s going to taste like fear. But beggars can’t be choosers. My stomach grumbles at the smell of its leaking blood.

The Beast slows his approach. He catches my gaze, then his teeth sink deep, blood clouds the water, and the fish ceases to move. The dead eye stares glassy at the ceiling and silver scales dim to dull gray. He drops his prize and passes the carcass through the bars of my cage.

I catch it, the meat heavy in my hands. My fingers trace the length of its body, slipping along the scales. Poor thing. I should teach the Beast to hunt with empathy.

Sunfish eat. His voice penetrates, rumbling with the note of an order.

I cock my eyebrow at him. Thank you.

He waits at the cage until I lift the fish to my mouth and tear into the flesh. It’s sweet but soured at the finish.

The Beast nods. Fixed?

I smile. Fixed.

With a quiet snarl, he slips into the night, leaving me to chew the bones.

***

I summon him the following night. Then the next; each night, he hunts for me. Silverfish, grayfish, and bottomfish. He drops them in my cage, then watches me with dark eyes, making sure I eat something before he leaves.

He crouches there now, squatting on his rear legs. His muscular body crowds out the low light coming from the tunnel behind. His shadow drips across the floor, tail flicking in that anxious rhythm of his.

I have fixed , he says. Sunfish should eat .

A few days ago, his mind could only form singular words. Now he’s stringing several together. I smile. Perhaps our exchanges have been good for him, too.

I lift the carcass to my mouth and puncture its skin with my teeth. He grumbles in approval.

What other tricks can you do? I ask him. All this fish has been great, but I’m awfully bored in here.

His thoughts flex around my request, confused.

I try again.

Backflip? I assess the size of the tunnel and change my mind. Not enough room. What if you brought me a game to play? Or a book?

He brightens at the final word.

Sunfish wants book , he says. I will find.

He slithers out of the tunnel, sneaking past a sleeping Vaughn.

Every day is the same: brush frost from my scales, chat with Perrin, dig a little more of the tunnel, then summon the Beast. The hole in my ceiling is now deep enough to fit my torso. A few more days of work, and I could fit my tail, too.

The exercise is good for me, and the Beast keeps me fed. But my mind needs more stimulation. I can only stare at the same wall for so long before I drive myself insane.

He returns a while later with a stack of tablets. Crouching to avoid the low ceiling, he stops at my cage, then passes them to me one by one.

Books for Sunfish , he says with a note of pride.

I send my gratitude through our connection as I shuffle through the tablets, skimming their titles. A few grimoires, a diary, and a book on ancient curses. Odd choices for entertainment.

Any romance, by chance?

The Beast wrinkles his nose. Romance? His thoughts test the meaning of the word.

You know. Kissing books. Happily ever after.

Kissing?

I pucker my lips, demonstrating a kiss.

The Beast snorts. I do not kiss.

I cover my mouth to keep from laughing aloud. That’s okay. It’s the characters in the book who kiss. You don’t have to.

Kissing… His confusion spreads. …is good?

Very good. I grin at him, at the same time searching my memories for a better demonstration. His thoughts swirl eagerly as I impress the memory of my first kiss.

It happened under the shade of the sweetnut trees.

I was cracking open a nut. Or trying at least. I couldn’t find the opening.

My blade was too dull. His shadow slid across my face, and I looked up into the setting sun.

I was ten years old, but he was older by a few years.

A hunter. Handsome, in a freckled guppish kind of way. He had dark curls, like mine.

“Need some help?” he said, offering his knife.

I nodded. “It won’t crack.”

When I reached for the knife, he moved it out of the way. “I don’t work for free,” he said, grinning. “I’ll do it if you marry me.”

I wanted the milk inside that nut. My thirst was burning my throat. So I did the logical thing and said yes. He laughed and called his friend over to marry us beneath the tree. And when he kissed me, it tasted like the sun.

The Beast’s eyes grow large, searching my face in the dark. His claw brushes his bottom lip. Like the sun.

Yes. It was nice, as far as first kisses go. I’ve had better, but I’ll spare you the details.

His mind tugs at my thoughts, pulling for more.

No! No more. You’ll have to bring me those books first.

I brought books. Sunfish asked. He eyes the stack of books in my cage. Not good enough?

My heart sinks. Have I offended him? Shit. No, no, these are fine. I mean for next time.

Next time , he repeats. His brow furrows, one side lifting. His mouth curls. Is that a… smirk?