“Yes, more.”
Alessandra and I were shown our seats, which were thankfully on the other side of the royal family, away from the Circe. Food was laid out in front of us—platters of fruits, vegetables, roasted meats, fresh breads . . .
And none of it was appealing. My stomach was in knots. It had taken everything I had to stand there, right there, in the Circe’s presence and not do a thing. But it was done. Sandra had gotten us this far, and soon we’d be invited into their inner sanctum.
Once the food and drinks were deposited, female performers swept into the center of the room and made a circle around the fire pit. They were dressed in sheer gowns, their light hair long and loose. They wore shell necklaces and anklets.
“Ah, fabulous!” Sandra exclaimed, leaning closer to the shoulder of the king. “It has been quite some time since I’ve enjoyed this type of entertainment, and in such magnificent company.”
Her words pleased the siren king. “Then this shall be a memorable occasion for you.” The music began. “The Song of Panopé commemorates the primal goddess of the sea gifting us, her creation, with the Source Words. It is a dance you won’t see anywhere but here in Fiallan.”
While sirens could manipulate energy, heal themselves, and have extraordinarily long lives just like most races of Elysia and Charbydon, their true and unique gift lay in their voice, and in speaking words of power. But I’d never heard of Source Words before. The only time I’d ever witnessed a siren using a word of power was when Hank had used one on the roof of Helios Tower. It had flattened everything and everyone, but it had cost him a week’s worth of recuperating time.
The dancers twirled around the fire, their movements fast and frenzied, in sync with the loud drumbeats. “It begins with Panopé waging war against the fire deity to claim the land around the sea. It was hers by right since it rose from the sea itself during the time of Chaos,” the king translated in between mouthfuls of meat.
The drums stopped. The dancers faced the fire, bent over, hands out to the flames, flames that gradually turned to water. The music turned soft and ethereal. They straightened, moving around the water as it rose and gathered shape into a vague semblance of a female. I had to admit it was breathtaking to watch.
“From the essence of the sea and the deity, we were then created to hold the land. She gifted us life, gave us her song, and won us this land. We are the true heirs of Elysia.”
“I’m sure the Adonai would disagree with that,” Alessandra said, neutrally.
The king spat. “This world existed long before the Creator chose it as the home for his . . .
He proceeded to curse the Adonai.
All this was prehistory, of course. And some would argue that the Adonai had as much claim as anyone else. When they came to Elysia, the place was devoid of any civilizations. The beings that did inhabit the world were on par with cave-dwelling mankind, or so the story went. The Adonai had lived in Elysia so long that there weren’t many who’d consider them “settlers,” exactly.
“Here is where the deity gifted us with the Source Words,” the king said as the magically dancing water began to sparkle, small dots of light took shape, and they linked together to coil around the watery form in what appeared to be a long strand of starry pearls. Only the pearls I knew didn’t possess a burning inner light. “The words were given to us, inscribed on the jewels of the sea.” I realized that the glow wasn’t coming from inside the pearly “jewels” but from small inscriptions on each one. “Had not the words been lost, we might have defeated the Adonai and ruled supreme.”
I waited for Sandra to inquire what had happened to the words, but she simply nodded; she already knew. I, however, was in the dark, so I couldn’t help leaning over my plate to ask, “What happened to the words?”
The king drained his wine and then set it down hard on the table, leaning past Sandra to pierce me with a cold blue stare. “Stolen.”
“Not all of them,” Sandra amended, glancing to me. “But the most powerful ones disappeared shortly after they were given. Many believed Panopé took them back, the words being too powerful to be in such young hands. Others believed the Adonai stole them.”
It was obvious from the king’s dark look which one he believed.
“Is that what started the war?” I asked.
“Not specifically, no,” Sandra answered as the king’s attention was drawn away by his wife. “The war came thousands of years later when the sirens stole a relic from the Adonai. Many believed the theft was in retaliation for the theft of their Source Words.”
“Long time to hold a grudge,” I said as Sandra bit into a grape. “If they knew the Source Words, though, why couldn’t they use them to defeat the Adonai? Wouldn’t the words be passed down orally anyway?”
“To understand, you must know siren history. When the sirens were given their power and the Source Words, each family was given a specific word. The study of each word shaped the abilities and the contribution each siren family made to the community. As time passed, the words became embedded into the very essence of their lineage and power. Think of it in terms of the Greek gods. You have gods of love, war, hate, beauty, nature, air, thunder, wisdom . . . This idea came from the sirens, from their control of an attribute and the ability to wield it in all its varied forms.
“There are some who believe that each siren family was already preprogrammed to bond with the word given to them. It was built into their DNA, if you will. But with some of the words gone, certain families did not develop as others did. They did, however, triumph, becoming great warriors instead. They trained fanatically in physical combat and they employed mages to train them in the arcane. When war with the Adonai finally did come, they were ready, and they became instrumental.”
It wasn’t a leap to figure it out. “The Malakim came from those families.” And Hank was one of them.
Alessandra nodded.
“What were the words that were stolen?”
“Creation, Chaos, and Destruction.”
Goose bumps spread up my arms. I could see why the deity might have taken them back. And, if they were stolen by the Adonai, their motive was pretty clear. Taking away the sirens’ most powerful weapons despite the fact that the Adonai couldn’t wield them was a damned good strategy.
I was betting on the Adonai. “So what do you think happened?”
She shrugged, her attention on the food and the dancers. “It’s not something I have foreseen.”
The dance ended. Applause filled the room. But it all seemed to fade into the background as my thoughts turned inward. Maybe it was a good thing the sirens lost their words. Things might be very different today had they not.
I’d actually been in the house of a Malakim family, one who had, despite the theft of their words, risen to become significant players in the history of their world. And the Circe had chosen them, or their children to be specific, to protect the city. Why them? Hadn’t they done enough? But I already knew even as the questions came. The Circe had chosen them because of what lay dormant inside of them.
The Malakim might’ve been lacking their own words, but inside they had to be extremely powerful, powerful enough to wield the stolen Source Words. If a choice had to be made, if all the warriors were off fighting against the Adonai and the city was threatened, who better to choose than the powerful sons of those warriors?
But why continue the practice? That was a question only the Circe could answer. Their creation of the towers secured them a spot as advisors to the royal family. But they’d continued to breed fear into the hearts of the siren people—always keeping the threat of another Adonai war in the forefront of their minds. And no one questioned this after all this time. The royal family had become nothing but figureheads with no real power at all.
