《The Last Siren》
The language of Flowers
"Oh child, you are a storm waiting to burst,"
He paced the floor like an agitated lion in its cage. His teeth grit and lips pinched, fingers flicking across his thigh.
Was he nervous, angry, or unsure?
All but one fit the situation as another strained cry leaked from behind the alabaster wall. Trying to pinpoint which emotion it was, only made him pace faster.
When would it be over?
Hard as it was to stay still, it was far more difficult for him not to throw open the doors and rush to her side.
She was in pain, and it was because of him and his selfish desire for her body.
Behind the walls and doors, silence fell. It was weighted and came with a sense of foreboding. It made his throat swell and his heart hammer when sharp but controlled footsteps grew in intensity from the room hidden behind the closed doors.
Catching the eye of the woman who held more than just his life in her hands, his heart sunk deep. Travelling beyond his stomach and into his feet when she stepped out into the corridor. The doors closed so quickly behind her, that he didn''t even catch a glimpse of the room behind.
Like her body was starched to be as stiff as the collar around his neck, she stood tall like a statue. Unmoving, to the point he was sure that she was not breathing until her lips parted to shatter his world.
It was a girl.
A newborn, baby girl.
This meant both mother and child would be sent away to some far-off village on the coast, away from prying eyes.
A scandal would surely come if anyone found out that he''d broken tradition, and fathered a girl.
His mouth relaxing enough to speak, his tongue fell slack when she told him to be quiet and vacate the hallway.
Easier was how she worded it. It would be easier if he didn''t watch any of them. It was all good and well in theory, but when was it put into practice? It sent a sharp and agonising pain through his chest.
To be forever separated from his wife, and to never see his daughter?
The idea was too much for him.
He loved his wife and daughter.
So dearly, that when the carriage that carried them away was no more than a dot on the horizon, he stepped off the battlements.
Plunging down to his eternal rest was a sweeter punishment than having to live without his soul mate, and pretend their precious girl did not exist.
Had he been a stronger man, he may have tried harder to break down the strict rules of having a daughter. Fought against the shame it would have brought to their family, and removed the stigma of baring a female child.
All in place because Brentwood only fathered boys.
Their centuries-long bloodline only ever saw the births of men, the women having to marry into their prestigious families.
A powerful family, with ties to the first pagans and Wiccans with physically manifesting powers.
They were always, without fail, born male in the Brentwood family.
Until the afternoon Effie was born.
Living west of the island was difficult at times. The salt winds that sliced across the lands before falling into the valleys that separated one side of the island from the other, was just the tip of its difficulties.
A small saving grace was the cottage they had to call home was in better condition than the rest of the village. Excluding the grand manor house at the top of the hill, theirs was almost palatial.
It was also horribly cliche.
With its white decorative fence and honeysuckle that curled like a lover around the small red door; while some of its unruly branches partially blinded the cross-hatched windows, it was fairytale perfect.
And that was as far as the fairy tale.
Fingers long since pruned, numb and sudded up with so much soap that she had no grip, Effie was only an hour into her day.
With a mother who worked in the kitchens of the manor upon the hill, the housekeeping fell to Effie to take charge of. That morning happened to be the day to wash the bedsheets.
Normally Saturday was the day to wash the bedding, to have it all fresh and ready for Sunday. It meant a night of sleeping with roughly spun sacks, but come Sunday it was always worth it when wrapped in the soft linen spreads gifted to them by the Lord of the land.
The change in schedule was down to the man departing her mother''s room. A handsome fellow as he was, he also appeared seedy and Effie did not trust him. Especially not when he left a small backpack full of gold coins.
Healthy was the only way to describe the amount the man would leave after each visit. It was certainly more than her mother earned in a month in the kitchens.
Confident it was more than her mother could count sitting on the table, Effie snuck a coin or two once the man left.
Never once asking who he was, or why he visited, Effie knew it was not just for talking like her mother once fabled.
From her earliest memory, Effie knew the man was a frequent guest in her mother''s bed, she just didn''t understand in what sense at the time.
Now at the ripe age of seventeen, it was no mystery of what her mother''s ''talks'' were. The thought of it made Effie''s skin hot and her chest flutter, before the inside of her thighs ached at her own sordid memory.
It wasn''t an unpleasant feeling, but it was strange. Effie''s body knew what it wanted, and how to get it, but Effie''s mind screamed blind panic and told her not to speak with him again when they passed in the village square.
Effie couldn''t bring herself to meet his eye again.
Not after their intense and deep staring contest as they silently prayed and hoped that the busybody snooping in the tavern''s cellar, would not turn the corner and stumble upon them. Head down in her wrinkled hands Effie cried out mournfully.
Everything was going amazingly up until that point when panic set in. She no longer felt the heat of carnal desire, but a lingering burn of impending embarrassment.
Sitting back on the small backless stool, Effie dried both hands on the apron tied at her waist. Lamenting over the pitiful experience that was almost her first time, would not help with the housework, and there was still much to be done.
Slopping the thoroughly scrubbed sheets into the metal tub, Effie kicked it across to the mangle. Feeding the sheets through the rollers of the machine, Effie wrapped the apron around the handle to reduce the stress on the skin of her palms.
From her position, Effie had an unobstructed view into the neighbouring cottage living room. Already familiar with its layout from regularly visiting as a child, it took some time to realise what she was looking at.
Towel wrapped at the narrow hips, a half smile curved up the thin lips before they split to reveal the teeth, and a smirk.
Effie was unabashedly checking out her neighbour.
True, it was not the first time Effie witnessed him in the flesh, but it was not very becoming to be caught being a peeping Tom for the second time.
Coming to some sense Effie covered her eyes, the hand cupping one side of her face to shield his view of the deep crimson that painted her cheeks.
No doubt he would find cause and reason to reference Effie''s accidental peeping and would leave her red-faced at the thought of it all over again, while reminding Effie of the first time she witnessed him naked.
Coming down to terrible timing, it was a near exact setup that left them both red-faced and unable to meet each other''s eye for a good day or two.
Having been out in the garden on the first occasion to hang washing on the line, Effie glanced up at the sound of sloshing water and came eye to eye with Jean through the window.
One downward glance and an awkward smile Effie had literally kicked a bucket as she staggered back, just as Jean fell out the metal tub.
Though both embarrassed by the incident, Jean found the solution to his embarrassment in mercilessly teasing Effie about it for a week.
At the time Effie was still prudish and naive to the bodily exchanges a man and woman could undertake, so Jean''s comments were often lost in meaning, but left her feeling flushed and uncomfortable.
Shaking off the impure thoughts Effie continued to crank the old mangle. Feeding the sheets back and forth to squeeze out as much moisture before they would be pegged to the line.
One eye turned to the window again and there was relief in finding Jean was not visible. Relaxing a little more with the absence of his gaze and smirk, Effie turned focus to the small wooden sundial just outside the window.
With the sky clear for once, and the early morning sun already bright, the shadow should have been cast on the old contraption so the time could be told.
Oddly, there was nothing.
The old carved numerals showed no sign of sun or shade on its old and weathered face. Brows creased in a deep frown Effie leant toward the cross-hatched glass, ignoring the little smears that speckled it. She looked up and down the small garden, then back at the sundial.
Still, there was nothing.
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No longer fascinated by the sundial, Effie felt her chest pinch when a flicker of movement drew her attention to the neighbouring garden.
Tall and bright the sunflowers swayed side to side in a gentle breeze. Their thick stalks, and large petals seemed to shiver in excitement as they danced with the playful wind they''d been graced with that day.
Tongue pinched between the teeth Effie looked down at the Impatiens that grew in neat rows around the house. They were still, and most alarmingly, another flower sprouted from among the Impatiens stalks.
Rhododendron.
Recognising the flower head Effie''s brow furrowed deeper.
"Beware," she whispered quietly, her voice eaten up by fear when another unknown voice filled the room.
Profound and sultry it rasped. "And caution."
The speaker finished Effie''s sentence, and within their voice uttered a silent command that Effie be still and not do anything irrational.
Body becoming tense Effie held tight to the mangle handle as if it would somehow offer comfort and support.
Sensing that the person wished for Effie to turn and face them, a quick gulp of air set her lungs breathing again, and allowed her to move.
Carefully Effie met the man who was circling the kitchen table, eyes wide in alarm at the casualness of his movements. All she could do was watch.
Gliding a white-gloved hand across the smooth surface of the table he lifted it at the edge to inspect the soft looking fabric for dust.
After a few seconds, a sound like he was impressed parted his mouth which made Effie look upon his face.
Features sharp like they were carved fresh from marble that morning, he was handsome and gentlemanly in appearance. By the expensive looking tailored suit and the gold diamond-encrusted cane that hung over his arm, it spoke volumes of his suspected wealth.
Keeping watch on the man as he inspected the kitchen of the cottage Effie made slow and unassuming steps toward the fireplace, fingers itching for the iron poker that balanced against the coal bucket.
Having something in hand would make Effie feel a little safer, particularly since the man pulled a knife from the block by the stove.
Turning it left and right so that it caught the light Effie watched as a vague smile swept across his mouth.
"Leave it." He ordered, calmly.
Stopping dead Effie''s eyes grew wider when the man dropped the knife back in the slot of the wooden block, purposefully, so that it made a metallic thud.
Eyes like aqua baring down on Effie both feet became rooted to the spot.
Whether it was the way the man was looking her up and down, or just the blazing stare he possessed, Effie found her want and will to retrieve the poker bleed out of her.
A satisfied smile, though tinged with disappointment, broke the man''s vague visage. "Can''t say I am at all pleased with you," he announced quite suddenly, a finger and thumb running together thoughtfully.
Taken back by the comment it sent her mind and mouth into a splutter.
Though in truth it left her speechless.
Who was this man?
Why was he in her house?
A slow undecipherable smile edged across his mouth, large brows that only seemed to accentuate the almost unearthly blue of his eyes dropping a fraction, he sighed gently. "You''re seventeen, correct?" He quizzed, sharply.
She nodded, tongue still slack and speechless, it was all she could do.
He too returned a nod of the head, though it was evident something about her reply pleased him.
One by one he started to pluck off each finger of his gloves until both were set in the pocket at the front of his suit jacket. The large hands placed behind his back as the broad shoulders were drawn back. It made him appear taller, and his already large frame bigger.
"I suspect your mother never told you, for want of keeping you safe," Speaking gently, but somehow sharply he clucked his tongue when Effie returned a vacant and dumb stare.
What had her mother not told her?
The man''s eyes rolled slightly like he was exasperated already.
"It can not be kept from you much longer, not now you''re of age. Your lack of knowledge is not desirable, and you need to be somewhat informed." He spoke like a teacher, a well educated silver spoon fed teacher.
It was irritating for some reason, as Effie felt as though he was dumbing down his speech to be sure she understood.
"Knowledge of what?" Finally finding her tongue, and its sharp edge, Effie baulked when the man gave a sharp eye her way.
"You''re Brentwood, Effie. One that should never have been born."
Brentwood?
That was impossible!
Also, how did he know her name?
The Brentwood family was not new to Effie, everyone knew it. Everyone also knew that only boys were born in the Brentwood family.
Starting to suspect the man was some kind of lunatic Effie made to reach for the iron poker, it wasn''t far, if she dashed, she would have it in hand before he could leave the kitchen.
That was the plan at least. Except, it did not go as Effie thought it would.
Effie felt it, before she witnessed it.
The room filled with a static like energy, before a bright and brilliant flash of lightning, daggered the fire poker and sent it spinning across the room.
Only the sharp ring of metal was heard for a few seconds as Effie''s outstretched hand hung empty in the air.
From the corner of an eye, the handle of the cane flashed, and finally made Effie pay closer attention to it.
It was shaped like a snake''s head. Its jowls open as if ready to strike, the eyes were made of onyx, and its two front, and very sharp teeth looked to be made of either glass or diamond.
Almost lazily pointing at the cane, the man curved one brow upward. The other quickly joined the first when Effie clapped a hand to cover her mouth and hide the scream that made her leap out.
Like it was alive the snakehead flickered out a ruby forked tongue before its mouth closed and its aggressive appearance calmed.
Hand forming a fist it pressed over the panicked thumping in Effie''s chest, mouth dry she swallowed over and over in an attempt to wet it.
Question after question whipped back and forth in her mind, but each one was dragged into the abyss like fog that settled in her head.
Nothing was making much sense.
Wanting to wake up and discover it was a very lucid dream was how Effie wanted it to be, but the man stood and baring a look of some contempt at her, was of flesh and blood.
Wishing that her mother was present, Effie gave a fleeting eye to the door, willing for the woman to come sweeping through. Not expecting her mother to come in and be her knight in shining armour, Effie just wanted her comforting and safe embrace.
The man cleared his throat, the cane once more hung over his arm. "I wish I could indulge your naiveness, Effie." He spoke, sounding genuine of his regret at her situation, a situation she did not understand or even have much information about "But they will not be patient for you, if anything, as you are now, you''re most desirable to them."
Holding up a hand to keep him from saying anything more, Effie shook her head back and forth.
"Who are you?" she stuttered. "Who are ''they''?"
Finally asking two of the most prominent questions that had been at the front of her mind, a silence spread between them.
In Particular, he appeared awkward in the questions, or at least one of them.
Again clearing his throat, he straightened the tie around his sharply starched collar.
"The Brentwood''s are those who seek you out. They want you dead." Answering stiffly, he again cleared his throat but said nothing more.
So, according to the strange man Effie was a Brentwood, and they wanted her dead. No closer to understanding the situation, Effie noticed the man was still holding out on answering the first question surrounding his identity.
"Who are you?" Prompting him again, Effie noticed how his mouth pinched, but his gaze became warm as his lips relaxed into a sincere smile.
"I am Ezra Smith, a Dominus within the Magicae Council," introducing himself smartly, and humbly, he stroked a finger down the sharp ridge of his nose before letting it fall to his chin "And I have been sent to be your guardian."
Appearing to trip at the final part of the explanation Effie''s brow furrowed, it was not what he''d wanted to say.
Nevertheless, Effie at least had a name and a brief idea of what led the man to be standing in her home. Though Ezra''s presence was unwelcome, as was the news and apparent revelation he brought, Effie was somewhat appreciative of his arrival.
If any of what Ezra said was true, it looked like being unable to look Nyle in the eye, and being caught perving on her neighbour were now the least of her woes. It was a thought that was most welcome, though no less troubling.
Levelling a look on the man who called himself Ezra, a frown turned down one side of Effie''s mouth.
Lips reluctant to part and let free the newer more relevant questions, Effie took in a deep breath to fight off the anxious claws that were trying to snare her lungs.
"Why do they want me dead?"
At the question, Ezra''s expression became pitiful and sad like he was staring into the eyes of a dying animal who was pleading for a mercy kill.
It placed Effie even more on edge, and made her want to retract the question or tell him that he did not need to answer.
"How much do you know about Brentwood''s?" Answering with a question of his own, it filled Effie with a small relief "I know they''re a powerful family, with strong political ties."
What little Effie knew about them was learnt through word of mouth. Her mother strictly forbade talk of them. Something which never used to make much sense to Effie, was now starting to.Ezra smiled, pitifully, again.
"Do you know the story of the last Siren?" He asked gently, Effie nodded.
The Last Siren was no children''s tale. It was cold and brutal, the treatment of the siren at the hands of her captor''s nothing short of barbaric. It was a story to be told around a campfire at night, not small children being tucked into bed.
Ezra nodded, her answer apparently pleasing though it didn''t change the bitter look in his eyes that came with bringing up the tale of the last Siren.
"It isn''t just a story. It happened." Curt and frank with the topic Ezra inclined his head to Effie "The curse the Siren cast before she died, is real." Voice low and bristling with some unknown emotion Ezra''s mouth flicked up into a smile "And she is standing right in front of me."
Like words were kind of key.
A rude, unwelcome, intrusive key, Effie felt something snap in her chest.
It wasn''t painful, and it didn''t cause her concern. More so, it felt relieving for it to have broken open like it had been suppressed for far too long.
A smile that was nothing short of dark humour curled back Ezra''s lips when Effie inhaled sharply and trilled loudly and melodically in place of her words. "You''re a Siren, Effie." He announced smoothly.
Curled up among the tattered fabrics the Siren wailed into the darkness of her prison. Body torn and weak, it was no longer the home of the child forced to grow in her womb.
Outside the doors, they were jubilant of the baby boy born that night. He was powerful, they could sense it. Forgetting the mother who was struggling for breath, the four men stood around the cradle as the full moon poured silver threads of light upon the newborn''s crown.
"Damn you!" The Siren cried, mustering all her energy and breath.
They paid her no mind, her purpose was fulfilled.
"What shall we call him?" One hooded man asked the others.
"Michaelis." One answered
"God-like? Befitting." Another responded.
All four looked upon the small boy cradled in blankets of spider silk. He was silent, happy in his slumber.
"You mortal vermin," the Siren cried again, two sharp thuds of flesh hitting wood, they guessed she was by the door, pounding on it "Hear me when I speak, for I shall be the death of your bloodline..."
The words finally hooked their attention, all four of the cloaked men turned to the door in time to see the Siren''s fingers curl around the bars.
"When a girl is born to any of you or your kin, she will bare my hate and my wrath," a smile curled back the scaled skin of her lips to bare the sharp teeth behind them "And she will wash her hands in your blood, and feast on your flesh."
Each word rattled like the bone rune''s of a wise woman. Falling at the final word, the Siren used her last breath to laugh at them. Menacing and cold the message was unmistakable, the Siren used her final moments to see to it that she would be avenged.
All at once the four men felt their blood run cold.
Would it work?
Would the Siren''s fury plague their bloodline, and lay it to ruin at the birth of a daughter?
Beneath the full moon, all four men felt the weight and repercussion of their misdeeds.
Having inflicted pain on the mythical being of mysterious power and beauty, they''d sent her to an agonising death, and bearing a murderous grudge.
Stolen Breath
"Had they shown compassion, she may have given mercy,"
It was odd how a life could be shattered with little to no effort.
Disassembled with one sentence and irrevocably and irreversibly changed in its course forever.
For Effie, that was precisely what Ezra did with one sentence.
Delivering a slither of information that Effie would have happily gone throughout her life without knowing.
If the Brentwoods wanted her dead so badly, they would have come for her. Killed her with no explanation and left her in a blissful ignorance up until the last breath.
Except there Effie was, no longer wanting to get through her chores, to focus on how best to avoid conversation with Nyle while dodging Jean as she sipped warm ale with Prue and Kitty at the tavern.
Instead, Effie was flapping like a fish in the jowls of a bear, desperate to be free of the sensation that her lungs were about to explode like a bloated sheep''s stomach.
Every inhale burned her throat and seared through her chest. All the while, her voice was lost in short and sharp sounds that reminded Effie of an out-of-tune music box.
With her voice replaced with pitching wails that stroked her vocal cords, Effie felt they were going through a warm-up exercise, but the muscles were cramping.
"Calm yourself, Effie." Ezra tried to soothe.
A hand reached out and moved in a gentle downward arc to represent his words; Ezra''s hand halted mid-air as the fingers cut sharply back into the palm when his eyes closed with a wince.
Voicing objection in an elongated screech, Effie took a hand from her neck to wave in a wild and frantic circle.
Being told to calm down was of no help.
Seeing that words alone were not enough, Ezra turned in a slow circle before spotting something of apparent interest to him.
Far beyond her depth and out of her comfort zone, Effie staggered forward, reaching out for the man as he pilfered through the cupboards.
There was a soft clicking of metal and a rush of water from the tap. Effie turned to find the noise. Just as her head moved, an icy water slapped across her cheek.
Startled and trying to drag in a breath through the shock of cold, Effie''s arms were suspended at her sides as panting breaths heaved through her chest.
It took only a few seconds for the sensation and temperature of the water to become homely.
Each droplet became like a warm kiss on her skin, and the icy chill it initially held evaporated. Almost like embracing a long-lost lover, the water made Effie feel safe.
Confused by the feeling, Effie sought the man who''d thrown the pan of water over her. The simple black iron pot spun between the palms of his hands as a slow smile crept across his mouth.
"Feels like home, doesn''t it." He commented quietly, the faintest undertone of amusement entering his words as he returned the pan to the cupboard.
Mouth open, her words, or wailing, disappeared in a swallow of breath.
When the cold that captivated her lungs was released, she breathed easily and welcomed the taste of air.
Ezra ran a finger over his bottom lip, caressing the dip as the thumb pressed under his chin. "I assume you will not know this, as your mother looks to have kept you in the dark. You''re a gift and a curse to the other world."
Able to breathe normally again, Effie was much more relaxed and ready to pay attention to Ezra. However, what Ezra had to say did not seem all too appealing.
The less Effie knew and understood, the better it would be. Or so Effie believed at that moment.
Gesturing to a seat at the old kitchen table, Ezra waited for Effie to sit first before taking the chair opposite.
Fingers steepled half of Ezra''s face disappeared behind the hands, but his eyes remained intensively focused on her.
"Our world''s run parallel to each other. We are aware of each other, we cohabitate, but we never touch."
Ezra was speaking of the nether realm, the land of magic and make-believe, as her mother called it. It was a mirror of their world but with added sparkles to pretty up the bloodshed.
"Your birth was an omen and a blessing," his voice rumbled with a seductive undertone, but the sharp edge of each word buried the handsomeness of his voice. "You spell the end of a centuries-long tradition, but you also symbolise the end of an era."
Holding the table''s edge, Effie dug her nails into the wood, brows dropping to show that Ezra needed further explanation.
"Gwendolyn taught you nothing?" Again exasperated, Ezra looked ready to roll his eyes when Effie shrugged.
Gwendolyn, her mother, taught Effie the necessary life skills. Magic was not something Effie needed to know, not according to her mother, at least.
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Splitting his fingers to massage his temples, Ezra''s shoulders sagged in defeat.
Taking a moment to compose, Ezra straightened up on the chair, sitting poker with a face to match.
"I will make this bite-size, so it''s easier for you to digest until a point comes where I can explain it better." Trying to hide his slight frustration made his smile appear less relaxed, taught and clearly strained.
"The night the Siren cast the curse, she died. The child she was forced to have syphoned off her immortality." Ezra grimaced; it appeared that he very much disliked that part of the tale.
Rightly so. The tale was filled with horror from beginning to end.
"That night not only saw the last of a species die but one of the oldest forms of magic too."
Head cocked, Effie waved a hand for Ezra to continue when he paused.
Placing both hands palm down on the table, Ezra held Effie in a blazing stare.
Impassioned in such a way that it was charming, Effie met the otherworldly blue irises just as the pupils dilated.
Ezra owned a stare that told a thousand stories but revealed nothing.
Open but closed all in one.
There was no possible way of not being somewhat enchanted by his eyes, even if only a passing gaze was shared.
Blinking rapidly, Effie felt a heat colour on her cheeks as Ezra''s mouth upturned into a knowing smile.
"As I was explaining." Making it uncomfortably apparent that he knew Effie was getting all daydreamy over his eyes, Ezra coughed to hide a laugh.
This man was wily and effortlessly calm over Effie''s sudden rose-tinted view of him.
Ezra was probably accustomed to it. He seemed unruffled by it after all.
When returning to their discussion, the focus is on Effie''s choice to look past Ezra and out the window behind him.
It was still sunny, and it seemed time stood still.
No one was moving about their business, though there should have been many. It was a rare sunny day, and many would usually take the opportunity to do more frivolous things.
There was no one.
Almost like the whole village suddenly became a ghost town, there were no faint sounds of conversation or a lowing cow to be heard.
Ezra tapped once on the table, "Effie, this is not the time for daydreaming." Reprimanding her caused her to scowl.
Ezra was right; whether time stopped, he was still spouting information.
This information was something that Effie knew she could not entirely trust, as Ezra was not a reliable source.
Still, they were perfect strangers; it would be easy for him to fill her head with nonsense that would benefit him and his cause.
In truth, that''s how the whole conversation felt thus far. Like Ezra was trying to steer it to his advantage.
Whatever it was he''d done to her body only added weight to her theory. Effie was rendered mute or instead reduced to squawking like a baby gull.
Had water tossed over her that strangely calmed her down, and now Ezra was giving her a history lesson?
Suspicious was too kind a word for the man and his motives.
"I am not your enemy, Effie. What I am telling you is for your benefit, not mine." Ezra''s interruption cut dead Effie''s thoughts, his burning and too-invasive eye on her. Again, she felt she understood a bit of his power.
"I can''t read your mind entirely, so don''t worry." Ezra laughed, the sound soft but deep. It made Effie''s stomach flip flop.
"You have a solid defence up there. Bravo." Tapping the centre of her head, Ezra muttered the last word in some grievance, like he was not pleased that Effie could keep him out of her head.
The idea that Ezra could read some of her thoughts was unnerving. It left her feeling naked beneath his watchful eye.
Lips parting, it started as a warbling mess of screeching and off-pitch wailing, only calming to a melodic tinkle when Ezra apologised for invading her privacy.
Did he understand the strange replacement of Effie''s speech?
Or was he purely guessing by its tone?
Neither question was answered, and she thought, on some strange spur of the moment, that she didn''t want them answered.
"We are getting off track," Ezra mentioned, trying to bring their attention back to his original point of conversation "The original four destroyed all knowledge of magic and power ascertaining to water that night."
Making a squealing sound, Effie ducked her head.
It was embarrassing to be reduced to noises to express herself.
"A Siren''s source of power lies in three things," Ezra said in his history lesson, ignoring Effie''s discomfort: "Her body, her voice, and her ability to manipulate any body of water, no matter how small."
Delivering the last part urgently so that Effie could understand its importance, Ezra took a sharp breath.
Eyes more comprehensive than an owl, Effie sat up straighter as she leaned closer to Ezra when he appeared troubled by whatever he wanted to say next.
For some time, they lingered in a static silence, neither moving nor making a sound as they waited for the final piece of the puzzle to be slotted in place.
"Effie, you have the power to end us all."
Announcing what troubled Ezra deeply, the furrow of his brow increased.
Was Ezra trying to suggest that Effie would end magic as they knew it?
"That is exactly what I am saying." Speaking with a graveness, Ezra''s worry evaporated to be replaced with blankness.
Expressing nothing, Ezra steepled his fingers again. "As a Siren, your ability to control water is ingrained within you." Blunt and almost like he accused Effie of playing an unfair and cheating hand in a game she didn''t know she was dealt into, Ezra voiced his thoughts bitterly.
"With the eradication of water magic, and its outlawing of being practised, we have no defence against you, should you choose to turn a vengeful eye on more than the Brentwood''s."
Effie''s chest squeezed painfully at the second -this time spoken- accusation.
Already, Ezra believed that Effie was going to be a threat to a group of people she didn''t even know, but she also deemed her some kind of monster that would turn her eyes on innocents.
Hurtful was the only way to describe Ezra''s words. Knowing nothing about her¡ªcurse or supposed destiny aside¡ªEzra had already decided her fate and future.
It was angering and made Effie want to reach across the table to slap him.
Who did this man think he was to enter her home and shatter her quiet and mundane life. Only to then decide that she was going to kill and murder people, all for the sake of a curse in a story.
Much more controlled than the first time Effie wailed her displeasure at his words, her eyes meeting his defiantly.
They kept staring at each other until Ezra surprisingly broke eye contact. Showing the slightest sign of a smile, he stood up, patting down his suit before hooking up the staff he''d balanced against the table.
"I''m sorry if my thoughts upset you," soft and soothing Ezra moved around the table until he stood beside Effie. "But we must be cautious of you. Your birth has been long awaited but never fully prepared for." Using two fingers, Ezra tucked back some of the still-damp hair behind Effie''s ear, the tips of his fingers brushing against her cheek.
From her cheek, Ezra''s fingers smoothed down her jawline before the pad of his thumb pushed gently into the curve under her bottom lip. "I wish it were not so," whispered somewhat coyly. Ezra leant down slightly, bringing his face a little too close for Effie''s liking.
With the bodily contact, a little flustering, Effie seized up in a panic.
Quite wary of Ezra and his intentions, Effie''s body jolted in fright when something that sounded like cogs and chains turning broke the silence.
Withdrawing from Effie''s personal space, Ezra stood smartly, his face coming over with a sly but mildly bored smile.
"I wish our time did not have to be cut short, but I can only stop it for so long." Ezra sighed in some distress as he eyed the pocket watch in the palm of his hand.
She was only able to catch a glimpse of the clock face, and she watched the hands whir around at an alarming rate.
Catching each other''s eyes, Ezra smiled, "Time is catching up with itself." With a gentle laugh, he snapped the pocket watch closed before returning it to his pocket. "And you have a visitor."
A Mother Knows
"They say the Devil wears many guises, and he is one of them."
As the word ''visitor'' left Ezra''s mouth, the door burst open, and he vanished from Effie''s sight.
Believing that Ezra disappeared in the same manner, he appeared out of nowhere. Effie was struck dumb when a crashing noise came from the end of the small corridor adjacent to the bedrooms.
"Bastard!" Gwendolyn''s course notes vibrated through the air.
Panting in the doorway, with wild hair, Effie could only stare at her mother as the arm thrown out lowered to her side.
Gripping the table edge, Effie screeched in surprise and confusion. Her fingers tapped and flicked, and her shoulders hunched up to her chin. Effie stared wide-eyed at her mother.
Was her mother like her? A siren?
As the question circled her too-busy head, Effie discovered where Ezra had disappeared when Gwendolyn stepped inside the cottage, slamming the door behind her.
Ezra lay among the splintered remains of the small table he''d landed on in a heap at the end of the hall.
With one leg drawn up, he rested an arm over it as he surveyed the meagre damage around him. His jaw held firm briefly as if angered, and Effie noticed his hold tighten on the snakehead cane.
When he did, something told Effie that she needed to separate Ezra from it when its jowls widened.
Just as her mother swept across her path, Effie threw out an arm, catching her mother across the waist and pushing her aside.
Focused on the cane, Effie felt pressure build in her chest, like air was trapped inside. Effie''s lips parted, but her teeth clenched.
The pressure released Effie''s chest, and as it did, a bone-splitting noise left her mouth.
To Effie''s ears, the sound was filled with her panic and urgency to keep the snakehead from Ezra.
To her mother and Ezra, it must have hurt.
While Ezra appeared to stay more composed, even when he covered both ears and scrunched up his face like he was in immense pain or discomfort, Gwendolyn cried out.
Hearing her mother''s crying plea for Effie to stop, she did.
Focusing on the cane, Effie felt relaxed to see that it was out of Ezra''s hand. Whatever Effie did worked.
Relieved but unsure why, Effie turned to her mother as she lowered her hands. Wanting to be comforted by the woman, it was clear that Effie would have to wait.
The squint of pain still in her eyes turned to a blistering rage when Gwendolyn looked toward the man, slowly and somewhat lethargically picking himself off the floor.
"They warned me," Ezra stated bluntly, clearly not in as good a mood as before. "That you were not to be trifled with, Gwendolyn." Head tipped to the side, Ezra gazed coldly at Gwendolyn as he brushed a hand down his dusty sleeve.
Gwendolyn clicked her tongue before snorting. "So the council at least got one thing right," she snarled. "Bravo." Clapping her hands sarcastically, Gwendolyn didn''t lower them entirely.
Seeing the change in her mother''s temperament, Effie didn''t hide her shock, though her voice was nothing more than warbling.
Correcting the suit jacket, Ezra bent to retrieve his cane. The snakehead pointed forward but still down at his side. "Yes. Nice use of sarcasm there, Gwen," he sighed briefly. But I''m not here for a battle of wit," he reprimanded sharply. I would win before I even opened my mouth."
Gwendolyn made a sound of disgust but did not disagree. Instead, she moved as Ezra did, walking until she stood directly before Effie.
"I won''t let you take her," Gwendolyn uttered darkly, her voice burning with a warning as Ezra stared down at her with a coy smile.
Closing a hand on the knot of her mother''s apron, Effie shuffled in close to her back when her mother swept an arm around to usher Effie closer.
Curled up to her mother''s back, Effie could hear the frantic beating in her mother''s chest. It made her speed up, and she panicked.
"You won''t have a choice soon," Ezra replied calmly. ¡°She is of age, and the Brentwoods are already coming for her." He warned, but his voice sounded more like he was flirting.
Gwendolyn''s body stiffened. "And you''re the one who will have led them to her," she argued, though her temper appeared to have quelled and become something different "You should have let her be."
As Gwendolyn spoke the last sentence, Effie realised what emotion was being portrayed. For the first time, Effie heard the fear in her mother''s voice.
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The idea that even her mother was scared of the Brentwoods left her feeling much the same.
With her face buried between her mother''s shoulders, Effie wanted to comfort her somehow, but being equally scared and unsure, all she managed was a quiet trill that faded at the end.
However, the sound made her mother''s body relax a little. The tenseness in her softened a bit, and Gwendolyn tapped a hand on Effie''s side.
"I have done no such thing, Gwendolyn." Ezra argued, his voice embittered by the accusation, "You did that yourself." Returning an accusation, Ezra flicked up the cane when Gwendolyn''s hand raised.
Peeking over a shoulder, Effie''s chest again tightened when she saw the snakehead pushed up under her mother''s chin.
As though sensing something that Effie was unaware of, Ezra looked down at her. "I won''t be caught out a second time," he mused with a half smile. "Be silent for now." His voice was soothing but did not match the intense stare he was putting Effie under.
Clicking the fingers of his free hand, Effie found her lips sealed shut. No matter whether wriggling or pulling her jaw allowed them to separate.
Satisfied that Effie was not going to start screeching again, Ezra set to focus on Gwendolyn again. "Your sponsor for the last seventeen years has been keeping a watchful eye on you." He explained with an undertone of disgust.
Gwendolyn''s mouth opened to respond, but with a rough push of the cane, it shut again. It seemed Ezra was not going to allow for any interruptions.
"That man is an agent of the Brentwoods," Ezra appeared exasperated as he revealed his knowledge of the man. "They''ve known where she is from the moment you invited that man into your bed."
Pausing in her struggle to get her lips unstuck, Effie made a strangled and muffled cry. Her eyes swivelling to her mother, she finally stepped out of the woman''s shadow.
Gwendolyn was the picture of shock, her skin ashen as her mouth hung agape.
Carefully, Ezra lowered the cane, his posture slightly rigid on one side. Effie guessed that being thrown as he was had actually hurt him.
"You literally sold her safety for a time between the sheets," Ezra continued to drive in the verbal knife as Gwendolyn''s eyes became wet. "They have merely been waiting for her to come of age."
At the final comment, Effie whipped her head around to view Ezra. Her eyebrows furrowed, and suspicion rife on her face; it appeared Ezra took notice and turned to her.
"I told you only half of what they want from you," Ezra explained calmly, briefly returning to watching Gwendolyn when she staggered to sit on the chair Effie had been using. "There is something else they need before they want you dead."
Again, he appeared to trip on a word as if replacing it and avoiding saying what he wanted to actually say.
Ezra had done it before mentioning he was sent as a guardian.
Unable to speak, Effie waved her hands, hoping he would understand that she wanted him to explain.
With a finger and thumb running together, Ezra cocked his head. "You''re still a virgin, aren''t you?"
Knocked sideways by the unexpected question, Effie''s skin became hot. Flustered and not sure where to look, Effie ended up in an awkward staring competition with Ezra.
What need was there for such a crude question?
A sympathetic smile swept Ezra''s mouth, barely lifting it at the edges. "I apologise for asking such a personal question," he laughed gently, "Especially when I know the answer."
As Ezra''s smile became wry, Effie felt another wave of embarrassed heat spread across her face and chest. With her hand out, she pointed an accusing finger toward Ezra.
From the chair, Gwendolyn looked at Effie. The shock and upset of the news that she''d revealed where Effie was apparently gone when Ezra asked the bold question.
"Effie?" Gwendolyn questioned tautly, sounding more like the mother Effie knew and loved "Not that idiot stablehand?" She asked with some disappointment.
Coughing, Ezra looked away as Effie further became an embarrassed mess. With no voice to object, she was left to express herself through the flailing of her arms.
Though at the question of the person she''d almost given her virginity to, Effie stood straight and shook her head wildly.
There was no chance that Effie would endeavour on such a thing with Jean.
Gwendolyn gave a dramatic sigh of relief, a hand to chest. Her shoulder slumped as she swayed to the side. "Thank God." She whispered to herself.
More than confused by the sudden interest in whether her body was still pure, Effie shot Ezra a stare; he''d again dodged the question of what it was the Brentwoods wanted before they planned to send her to the grave.
Ezra gave a calm smile, appearing the image of innocence as he met Effie''s eye.
"They want a child from you." Ezra finally elaborated, a brow curving up when Effie''s head jolted back in surprise.
From the table, Gwendolyn sighed heavily. "I wanted to keep you safe from all this, Effie."
Meeting her mother''s gaze, it was again wet. Eyes brimming with tears, her face was painted in regret for something that, to Effie''s understanding, was not entirely her fault.
"I told you the tale of the Siren, but I never told you all of it," Gwendolyn spoke quietly, her gaze flicking away to stare out the window. "The child that was born that night, the boy, syphoned off his mother''s immortality. He is still alive now."
At the news, Effie''s lips finally snapped apart; it hurt but was quickly ignored when Gwendolyn continued on speaking.
"Because of that curse, you were born a Siren. The promised one who would lay waste to the Brentwood family and enact revenge in place of her."
Effie knew that part already; it was the main point of the tale she''d been told as a child.
Gwendolyn''s voice became choked as a sob broke free; hand cupping her mouth, she descended into a weeping mess at the kitchen table.
Wanting to comfort her mother, Effie stepped forward but stopped when Ezra took over from Gwendolyn to explain the parts of the tale that were missed.
"You''re suspected to be much like the Siren back then, immortal," Ezra commented wistfully. "And probably like the Siren back then, you will give the child your immortality," he said gravely.
Turning to Ezra, they watched each other curiously for a time.
Neither Gwendolyn nor Ezra needed to speak further, for Effie already understood what it meant.
If Effie bore a child, she would die.
And that''s what Brentwood''s hoped for. The child born would become one of their fold, and the threat Effie posed would be no more.
As though Ezra believed it was necessary, he added a snippet more for Effie to try and digest: "Like the Siren also, you will probably be with child, from your first time."