Chapter 8

People skills were not Morgan's strength.

She had stood in the middle of bloody, dismal battles, whispering strategies and warnings into soldiers' ears. She had followed the doomed into the melee, and she had seen whole cities burnt to the ground like dried twigs in a campfire. She was an expert in warfare when the time for battle came.

But appealing to people? This was something that was alien to her.

She huffed as she looked over her lists. The names of every sister and niece sat in front of her, some underlined once if they were potentially supportive, underlined twice if she knew she could count on them and crossed out completely if she knew they would run to her father. She had the information that she needed to find the cells below the correction rooms, but every warrior worth her esteem knew that you shouldn't wander around any hostile territory alone, and the Dark World was as hostile to a wayward Siren as it came.

She sighed and sat backward in the plush chair, staring at the mess of paperwork in front of her. She bit the nail of her left thumb nervously, going over whatever random name her eyes focused on and considering a course of action.

"Should I be worried about every Siren's name sitting in front of the angriest warrior?"

Morgan jumped and screamed, grabbing her blade from the table and pointing it behind her. Roxy stood in front of her, completely unfazed.

"What are you doing, Roxy?" Morgan demanded, still feeling her heart beat against her ribcage. "Just appearing in here? What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I didn't want any of your neighbors see me come in or out. What is this for?”

Morgan looked down at the names to stall for a few spare seconds. “Ah, this. Chr-Christmas list.”

“It’s October, Morgie.”

“Right?” Morgan said, smoothing her hair and nodding slowly, trying not to blink as she looked her older sister in the eye. “I meant Halloween list. It’s sort of a big deal here in Ireland.”

Roxy had her hands on her hips and her head tilted sideways. Her round brown eyes were squinting at Morgan through a curtain of messy black curls.

“Please leave the lying to the diplomats,” she said, flatly, “you’re terrible at it.”

Roxy walked to the table and picked up one of the papers. “Oh, looky, there’s me. With a line under my name. Let me guess,” she said, as she took a moment to examine the paperwork. She looked back at Morgan. “This is to help with Nikki’s little side project?”

Morgan stayed silent, running her fingers over the crevices of the smooth wood of the table. Roxy was the calmer Siren out of the three, but she was also the hardest to sway once she made up her mind regarding a plan of action. Even Telese was more flexible. Once you found out the whole plan of hers, anyway.

Telese had been unable to convince Roxy and she had a gift when it came to persuasion. Perhaps this should be treated like any business of theirs. Diplomacy had failed, and now it was time for action.

While Roxy read the list, Morgan softly tapped her heart three times.

“You need to wake up and realize that this is in your best interest as well,” Morgan began, using her most coercive voice. It was best to take the offensive end with Roxy. The older sister could hone in on weakness and doubt before you even knew it was there inside of you.

Roxy looked up and fixed Morgan with her sternest look, parting her lips into a silent growl. Her eyes warmed to a glowing hazel and Morgan steeled herself against it.

 

“Telese’s plan isn’t terrible, you know,” she continued, just as strong as before. “And I trust her over Father any day.”

 

Roxy took another glance at the paper and then set it down in front of Morgan. She sat across from her sister and watched her silently but intently. Her eyes had resumed their natural brown, but her rigid, uneasy demeanor suggested that her displeasure was far from abated.

 

“You know, I was hoping that you would talk some sense into her,” Roxy said finally. Her voice caught Morgan off guard. Rather than her usual confident tone, it sounded edgy, scared.

 

She looked down at her hands and Morgan dropped her eyes as well. The same hands that had weld the Siren Blade so many times against enemies and had directed Morgan, the other warriors and full armies into battle were shaking.

 

Morgan thought about how secretive Roxy had been when she came in. She hadn’t wanted to be spotted. It was good manners among the Sirens to meet outside of their home or contact them ahead of time, and Roxy had never done anything to stray from these niceties. Not until today. And it dawned on Morgan that the Siren that was in charge of all of the wars and battles and uprisings and coups was frightened.

 

“Do . . . do you want some tea or something, Roxy?” Morgan asked, shifting in her chair uncomfortably.

 

Roxy shook her head, swallowing hard, as though trying to tamp down the fear. “Telese is very hard to get through to,” she said, looking beside Morgan, as though there were somebody sitting next to her that needed to know. The use of their little sister’s real name shocked Morgan to hear from Roxy. “There’s not much she really cares about anymore. I know this. You most certainly know this. She’s not our passionate baby sister anymore. She’s dark. She’s inside herself too much.”

 

Morgan nodded. It was true that, after she was tortured, Telese was returned back to them much different than before. But Morgan could barely concentrate on this as Roxy’s voice was becoming higher and quicker.

 

“Roxy,” Morgan said softly, in a voice that was often only reserved for the rare moments that Telese became upset, “did something happen?”

 

Roxy looked at Morgan again, her eyes filled with tears. Morgan felt everything inside her cease to move, aside from the loud pounding of her heart.

 

“I tried to use us, to use her sisters and nieces. It’s the only thing left that she never stopped caring about"no, that she never became afraid of caring about. But Father knows she’s planning something and he told me"“

 

But at that moment, Morgan knew it would be some time before she found out what their father told Roxy, because Roxy had lost her battle with her control and began to cry.

 

It wasn’t the crying that you can speak through. It wasn’t an occasional hiccup now and then. It was an all-consuming sob. It was fearful and lost and powerless. Morgan stood from her seat and crawled onto the arm of the chair where Roxy was sitting to wrap her older sister in her arms. She never realized how tiny her sister was. She felt as though she could be easily broken by the sheer act of crying.

 

Morgan ran her hands over the black curls. She said nothing and made no effort to stop Roxy’s wails, though she noticed that Roxy’s hands would occasionally rest on her throat as though to protect it. She rested her cheek on top of Roxy’s head. The smell of coconut and lavender"Roxy’s favourite shampoo"warmed and soothed Morgan as she fought back her own tears. None of this was fair. Hadn’t they done everything they were asked to?

 

It took nearly half an hour before Roxy was calm enough to speak again.

 

“Father’s planning to find out what Telese is up to. He spoke to me about spells that we can use to hide things from him. He’s starting to figure these things out.”

 

“Okay,” Morgan nodded. “Okay, well, it was a matter of time before he figured out that we have a way to hide from him. But as long as we don’t tell him about the spells"“

 

“He asked me to find out what Telese is doing, Morgan,” Roxy said, the frantic tears fighting to control her again. “And he told me that when he calls me, he’ll take the answers from me himself. When he does . . . when he sees what Telese is up to . . . .”

 

A new wave of tears started. Morgan pulled Roxy toward her again. She didn’t need her sister to finish the sentence. It wasn’t hard to figure out. If their father found out what was happening, he would kill Telese.

 

“We won’t let that happen,” Morgan said. She pulled Roxy away a little to look her in the eyes. “Do you understand why Telese is doing this now, Roxy? What have we done to deserve this? We have followed Father’s every order. We’ve never been allowed to enjoy our own existence. We are always at his disposal. We are always at the tips of his fingers. And we are always afraid,” she said, her voice becoming even more resolute. “We have a weapon. Why should we be afraid when we have the power now?”

 

Roxy’s sobs became whimpers. “How are we going to stop him?”

 

Morgan winced a little. “Well, we can’t stop him. We have to think of how to keep you away from him until Telese and I have had more time to prepare this human and get as many of our sisters and nieces on board as possible.”

 

Roxy chuckled a little. “Please tell me that isn’t your job.”

 

Morgan looked away and grimaced for a second and then looked back at Roxy. “Unfortunately.”

 

“And what about the Sirens that are too afraid, or trust Father more?” asked Roxy uncertainly. “What will we do about them? Surely you don’t plan to . . . . .”

 

Roxy’s voice trailed off again, but Morgan understood. She shook her head. “Nobody is going to be hurt. I recently had a chat with Mortimer. There are cells hidden in the Dark World that we can use to keep our more obstinate sisters safe.”

 

Roxy was taken aback. “You . . . talked to Mortimer?”

 

“Don’t doubt my level of commitment to a task ever again.”

 

“So you know where these are?

 

“More or less,” Morgan said. “But I don’t know where, exactly, and I don’t want to go wandering around the Dark World on my own. I need to take some sort of team. Maybe three warriors and a healer for any emergencies.”

 

“I won’t be any help,” Roxy said with a huff. “Father is watching me too closely.”

 

“Maybe, but you’re far better at rallying the people than I am. I’m more of an action kind of woman, myself.”

 

Roxy’s shaking slowed, but she still teetered between tears. “Rally?” she repeated, “don’t you think that’s dangerous?”

 

“Or we can sit here and wait for the inevitable betrayal from Father for our sisters and nieces to realize that there’s no alternative. Because it will really take that long for otherwise intelligent, powerful beings to quit acting like a bunch of weak-willed dolts about Father.”

 

Morgan paused, bit her lip for a moment and looked at Roxy with a sheepish wince.

 

“This very thing is why I need you to speak to them,” she admitted.

 

“You’ve not spoken to anybody?”

 

“I spoke to Rivkah,” Morgan said, “because it’s Rivkah. Anyway, she’s had all she can take with fighting and then some in Israel. She told me that she would speak to Layla herself and send her my way.”

 

Roxy scrunched her nose a little. “I don’t know about that. Layla and you don’t really ever see eye-to-eye.”

 

“I promise I won’t insult her this time,” Morgan assured her. The last time she and Layla had tried to work out a plan of action, she had made the mistake of telling the lead healer to toughen up and get over her passive approach. It had taken Layla roughly thirty seconds to do so. She scolded Morgan in front of the warriors and healers gathered with them, telling her in descriptive detail about her life in Palestine and how often she had to ‘toughen up’ on a daily basis.

 

It was the first and only time that Morgan, too ashamed of something she had said, sat quietly for the hour left in the meeting and listened to everybody else.

 

"Who do you think we need the most?” Roxy asked. Morgan shrugged.

 

“The best of our group, of course. I think we also need the best healers, just in case of skirmishes. We may not be able to kill each other right now, but let’s think logically about that. Father probably has a plan for squashing any attempt at revolting should the occasion arise. Who knows what he’s been working on with human technology.”

 

Roxy shook her head. “None of that can hurt us, though, can it?”

 

Morgan was silent for a moment. She looked at her older sister again.

 

“It doesn’t make much sense, does it?” she said.

 

When Roxy raised an eyebrow, Morgan continued.

 

“He is the most powerful being in all of this world. He keeps talking about how he could squash us with one move, but what is it? He must know that he can only kill one Siren at a time with the blade, and there are over 700 of us. To just start attacking us…how would that even work, Roxy?”

 

Roxy sighed and thought to herself about the situation. If you were going to kill over 700 people, you would need some sort of weapon to do so. Morgan was right, only one thing that they knew of having the ability to kill a Siren was the Eternal Blade.”

 

“Mortimer said that the Dark One had a way of killing Father himself. That the Dark Lords would summon him if Father attacked the Dark World.”

 

“If that’s the case,” Roxy said, “then why is he trying to weaken the Light World?”

 

Morgan slipped into thought. There must have been something to gain from the Light World. More than just able bodies to fight off Dark Lords.

 

“Do you remember when they were first created?” Morgan asked.

 

Roxy tilted her head and sneered. “That was a little before my time,” she said.

 

Morgan huffed impatiently. “I mean the story of when they were first created. They were killing each other, right? And when we came along, they stopped.”

 

“Yeah?” Roxy said, shrugging, “so?”

 

“So,” Morgan said shortly, “what were they killing each other with, Roxias?”

 

Roxy began to berate Morgan for using her full name, but stopped as she registered the question.

 

Morgan nodded. “See? I definitely should have made lead warrior.”

 

“They have weapons,” Roxy said slowly. “But, come on, Morgie, so do we.”

 

Morgan reached into her boot and pulled out her blade. The silver had never lost its sheen, and the handle seemed to twist and stretch to fit each Siren’s grip.

 

Every Siren had a blade, including the diplomats. The blades were able to kill absolutely anything that wasn’t one of the Eternal Beings.

 

Morgan placed the blade on the table in front of Roxy.

 

“Think about it again, Roxy. We came along and the fighting stopped. It was the Creator that favoured us, not the Dark One. These blades came from him.”

 

She looked down at the blade again.

 

“It wasn’t us that caused the fighting to end,” Roxy said, “it was the blades.”

 

“These blades"and the ability to use them"all came from the Light World. Whatever the creator used to create these weapons"and us"is in the Light World.”

 

“Technically he didn’t create us.”

 

“No,” Morgan agreed. “But he did create Mother.”

 

Roxy looked at Morgan with narrow eyes. “But our power comes from Father. He’s one of the Eternal Beings.”

 

“And you’re sure that’s where it comes from? Because . . . why, exactly? Because he said so? And he loves us all so much that he would never lead us astray?”

 

Roxy rubbed her temples, as though the new insight was not processing quickly enough.

 

“Get Nikki,” she said finally. “I need her here.”

 

Morgan closed her eyes and searched through the energy flowing around her. It didn’t take her long to find the path that connected to Telese. It never did.

 

“Roxy and I need you here,” she said, “don’t bother knocking.”

 

Barely a second passed when there was a rustling in Morgan’s kitchen.

 

“Telese?” Morgan called.

 

“One second,” Telese’s voice answered.

 

“Nikki, it’s import"“

 

“I said one second.”

 

Roxy looked at Morgan. “Ice cream?”

 

Morgan nodded. “Ice cream.”

 

Telese walked in the room with a pint of strawberry ice cream and a spoon.

 

“I figure I need this for Roxy’s ‘you’re so selfish, you’re so stupid, how do you eve"“

 

“I believe you, Nikki,” Roxy interrupted. There was no reaction from Telese other than to take a bite of ice cream and shrug.

 

“Your eyes are puffy,” she pointed out finally.

 

Roxy shrugged. “Just woke up.”

 

“I’d say so,” Telese retorted.

 

“Telese, do you know anything about how our blades were made?” Morgan asked.

 

Telese looked at Morgan’s blade on the table in front of them. “I don’t. Truth be told, I never even pick mine up, much less ask about its inception. Why?”

 

“In the highly-likely event that Father would want to kill us all, how do you think he would do so?”

 

“No idea,” Telese responded, taking another bite of ice cream.

 

“Our power, Nikki. Does it come from Father?”

 

Telese shrugged. “I assumed so for a long time. Of course, I assumed so because he’s told me so. Lately, I’ve begun to doubt him as a credible source of information.”

 

“Do you think it’s odd that he’s targeting the Light World, Telese?” Morgan asked.

 

“No,” Telese responded. “It’s the weakest. Look, if you two have an idea about something"“

 

“It’s weakened because he took measures to make sure it was, Nikki,” Roxy said. “Think about it, he took away the diplomats’ power in negotiations knowing the Dark World wouldn’t care about terms. He’s spread the numbers of healers out beyond their means. More pacts with human leaders meant that warriors were fighting in favour of the Dark World. This was set up long before now.”

 

Telese froze in mid-bite. She lowered the spoon back down to the ice cream, not taking her eyes off of Roxy.

 

“That sneaky sonofa"“

 

“Telese,” Morgan said, “he’s let the humans advance their technology. What if he has whatever these things are made of available to him in the Light World?”

 

“Well,” Telese said thoughtfully, “I think the answer is probably something along the lines of ‘then he can combine humans’ technology with whatever that material is and kill us all’.”

 

“Not just us,” Roxy said. “The Dark Lords, the Light Lords. He can keep some as his new slaves. He can use humans to create his weapons. He can do it all unchecked, because the Dark One and the Creator haven’t ever cared about this place beyond the time before us.”

 

“Agreed,” Telese said. “So . . . um . . . any ideas on how to stop this?”

 

Morgan and Roxy were silent.

 

“Do you remember what Mother used to call you?” Morgan asked.

 

Telese went rigid. Her jaw clenched as she stretched her chin upward slightly.

 

“I don’t,” she said in a guarded tone. “It’s been replaced by the things Father calls me.”

 

“She used to call you ‘my little fire’,” Morgan said.

 

“Most of the time we just assumed it was because you were so obnoxiously obstinate,” Roxy explained. “And you complained about the way things were.”

 

“All of the time,” Morgan added.

 

“Well, maybe if you two had done a little more complaining, you wouldn’t be waiting until the eve of our destruction to ask me what the Siren Blades are made of,” Telese said defensively.

 

“Nikki, about Atlantis and Pompeii"“

 

“Oh, not this again,” Telese said, almost throwing her ice cream in an emphatic movement of her arms. “Look, I’m sorry that I wiped out two entire civilizations with my temper tantrums. I take complete responsibility for this, and I don’t understand"“

 

“"if I could finish my thought without another temper tantrum,” Roxy said over her.

 

Telese fell silent and took to glowering over another bite of ice cream.

 

“Mother used to call you her ‘little fire’. But what if she knew something?”

 

“She did know something,” Morgan said. She bit her lip and looked to Roxy. Roxy didn’t return her gaze. Instead, she stared very intently at a patch of green and silver on one of Morgan’s rugs.”

 

Telese looked between the two. “Okay,” she said firmly. “Out with it. What did she know?”

 

“You remember what happened with Atlantis, right?” Morgan asked.

 

Of course I do, Telese thought. Their oldest sister, Terpsichore, had been executed by their father for continuing to teach the humans on the island to thrive. Telese had been the equivalent of a five year old when the flood began and had emerged from the water and destruction as that of an eleven year old. Instead of rehashing it all, she simply nodded, swallowing hard.

 

“After that, Father told our mother that if he decided you were a threat, he would kill you,” Morgan continued. “He said right in front of Roxy and me.”

 

“We didn’t want to say anything to you,” Roxy explained, “because if you knew and confronted him, he would most definitely kill you.”

 

The revelation would have, at the very least, shaken anybody else. But Telese was so used to hearing her father threaten her with death that it no longer affected her. However, she could imagine that it affected her mother greatly. She remembered her mother questioning her over and over about Atlantis. What did she feel? What did she hear? Telese had never been able to give her a straight answer, because she hadn’t felt or heard anything.

 

“It was at the time of Pompeii that Father decided you too much"“ Morgan’s voice cracked for a moment, causing Telese to become aware of her sisters again, “too much of a liability. Mother stood up to him. She told him that you were connected to her, and if she was gone, you would never be a threat again.”

 

“He"he dragged her off, somewhere,” Roxy said. “And the next thing we knew"“

 

“I remember it,” Telese said softly. She hadn’t heard her mother, but she had seen it all. She saw the malice and determination on her father’s face. She had ran after them, trying to protect her mother from him.

 

If her mother had been standing in the room right then, asking Telese what she had felt and heard, she would have been able to answer explicitly. She had felt panic, overwhelming fear that boiled up inside of her. She had felt rage and hatred. She heard a roaring fire and a loud explosion and her own screams and pleas and cries that matched the shriek of the gases and heat that washed over the town. And then she felt the death all around her. She felt the pained exhale of life from the people that laid in the wake of the heat strong enough to roast them alive.

 

She felt in then and she felt it now, as the muted, fuzzy sounds of her sisters spoke around her.

 

She felt herself slowly slipping back to the time that the fire raged inside and out.

 

“Telese.”

 

I’m sorry.

 

“Telese!”

 

I didn’t know what was happening. I couldn’t stop"

 

She felt a sharp hand across her face. She blinked twice and saw Roxy’s face hovering over her and Morgan muttering something about her rug.

 

She looked around. She was lying on the floor, a sharp pain in her hip. She felt something cold in her left hand. Looking down, she saw that she had gripped the ice cream container so hard that it had crumpled. Pink, cold ice cream with tiny red pieces of strawberries painted the ground against the green rug.

 

“Are you okay?” Roxy asked, helping her sit up.

 

“I"I don’t"what just happened?” she asked, shaking some of the ice cream onto the rug as Morgan winced.

 

“You went sort of catatonic and started apologizing,” Roxy said. “Then you just . . . crumpled.”

 

As Telese moved her legs, her left hip seared again. She looked down and realized it was right in line with the corner of the table.

 

“Well,” Telese said, grunting a little as she stood to her feet again, “that was fun.”

 

“Nikki, I was thinking,” Roxy began, helping Telese to steady herself. “Maybe you should try to figure out how to use those powers"“

 

“Absolutely not,” Telese said, brushing herself off. There was strawberry ice cream all over her left side.

 

“Telese, it may be the only way"“

 

“There are other ways, Morgie,” Telese said firmly, “this is out of the question.”

 

“But what other way?” Roxy asked, growing impatient.

 

“This is why you’re the lead warrior, Roxy,” Telese said.

 

“Told you I would have made better lead,” Morgan chimed in.

 

“Listen,” Telese said, “Roxy, gather troops. Morgan, find out more about those cells. I need to go.”

 

“Where are you off to?” Roxy asked.

 

Telese sighed. “To go change my clothes and then talk to King Rat. Do either of you want to change jobs with me?”

 

Morgan and Roxy looked at each other, and then back to Telese.

 

“No,” they said in unison.

 

“I was hoping for a different answer,” she said. With that, she walked back through the kitchen and through the Vanishing Point that she had used to enter.

 

“What now?” Morgan asked.

 

Roxy tilted her head. “I’ll start talking to the other warriors. Let me know when you hear from Layla. And, uh"“ she paused with a smirk, “spare no details about that conversation.”

 

Morgan’s face was blank and unamused, aside from an irritated twitch at the right corner of her lips. She would never live down the kindest, softest-spoken Siren putting her effortlessly in her place.

 

Roxy stood up, straightened her shirt and smoothed her hair. “Keep me posted,” she said, and disappeared through the Vanishing Point.

 

When she was alone again, Morgan allowed herself a small smile. She looked over at her list of names, picked up her pencil and put another line under Roxy.