Page 53 of When the Wicked Sing (The Leruna Sea #1)

Astra moved slowly through the muck of the old siren temple, her every step deliberate, as if she could feel the weight of the past pressing down on her.

The journey to find these ruins had been grueling, taking days of tireless searching.

The entrance had been buried under layers of debris and bones, relics of a forgotten time when the temple was alive with the songs of her sisters.

So many sisters had died on the day of the Banishment. The memories flooded Astra’s mind, almost impossible to believe even now. The air was thick with the scent of decay, and the eerie silence was broken only by the distant dripping of water.

Astra’s hands dragged across the cracked stone walls, the rough surface covered in slimy algae that left a trail of green on her fingertips. The texture of the algae contrasted sharply with the cold, unyielding stone beneath.

Pushing away a broken stone door, Astra stifled a gasp as she stumbled upon the skeletal remains of the priestesses.

Their bones were entwined, a silent testament to their vow never to leave the temple undefended.

They had remained true to their word, even in death.

Moving around them, Astra continued through the murky, placid water that lapped against her legs and then rose to swallow her form entirely.

Sirens were born to see through the dark, but as she tried to navigate the cloudy depths, her vision faltered.

She struggled to make out what lay ahead; her eyesight was not what it once was.

Her once lustrous pearl-white hair had started to turn a cloudy gray, and the skin on her hands was wrinkling, revealing the truth she could no longer ignore: She was aging rapidly.

And death was beckoning with a bony finger.

Astra’s hands tightened into fists. She refused to be intimidated by the fear of death.

She transformed into her tail, then continued through the temple with blind purpose until a slight glow from beneath the rubble caught Astra’s eye.

She pried the glow torch free, the algae trapped inside the sphere at the top swirling within.

Holding it in front of her, she swam slowly through the murky corridor.

The light chased away the shadows, causing crustaceans to skitter into dark crevices.

As she entered the sanctuary, the torchlight flickered off the octagonal stone walls, which were adorned with ancient carvings.

Astra swam toward the nearest wall and began deciphering the inscriptions.

The ancient language told of Seraphina’s story and the amulet’s creation.

As she read, the deeper, darker history of the amulet began to reveal itself.

The more she deciphered, the more her eyebrows furrowed, and her body grew taut with tension.

Astra stopped in front of a carving of a siren with claws growing from her fingers and beasts rising from the depths beneath her. The details were intricate, the depiction almost lifelike .

“Siren Queen Vasiliki, great-great-granddaughter of Seraphina, exploited the amulet’s power,” Astra read aloud, her voice echoing in the stillness.

“Her corrupted beliefs and tainted nature cultivated death and destruction across the Seven Seas. With the amulet, she summoned Poseidon’s Reapers.

” Astra covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes widening in terror.

Poseidon’s Reapers were legendary beasts, feared throughout the ages.

Capable of devouring entire cities, they left nothing but rubble and ash in their wake.

After they killed their master—Amphitrite’s lover—she imprisoned them beneath the sea.

Alone and heartbroken, Amphitrite birthed her only daughter, her angel, Seraphina, and together, they created a new life high in the heavens.

“Riddled with power, the queen’s soul turned to rot, and her body began to decay.

Desperate for a cure to the fallout, Queen Vasiliki used the amulet’s power to create the Scourge.

” Astra’s voice dropped to a whisper, her mouth hanging open in disbelief.

The origin of the Scourge had always been shrouded in mystery.

“After the amulet’s power killed Queen Vasiliki, her daughter, Queen Aikaterini, used the amulet to imprison her mother’s beasts once more.

She demanded the priestesses hide the amulet and never speak of Vasiliki’s corruption. ”

Astra read the last of the passage and stared at the carving, her mind reeling. Without any of the priestesses to preserve it, the paint detailing the hand-carved images had begun to chip away, a tragedy that mirrored the fading memory of their sacrifices.

With tentative fingers, Astra traced the clawed hands reaching into the sky.

The cold stone seemed to pulse under her touch, as if the ancient magic still lingered.

“She wants the amulet,” Astra breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Her touch moved down to the beasts rising from the trench, and she snatched her hand back, wrapping her arms around herself. “It’s all about revenge.”

A clang echoed behind her, breaking the silence. With a gasp, Astra whirled around, dropping the torch. It landed on the rubble beneath them without a sound, its light flickering as shadows danced on the walls.

The temple seemed to hold its breath, the weight of history pressing down on Astra as she froze, the darkness closing in around her.