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I nod, sitting on the disgusting floor in front of her. "Hi, Veil. I'm Elva."
"You're the girl," she says. "The girl who has to die."
I grimace, the memories of that almost happening trying to fight their way into my mind and derail me from my current mission. "Sorry to disappoint you." I chuckle, not feeling the humor at all.
If I expected guilt or even the smallest dose of remorse from someone who is looking at the person they plotted to kill, I would be severely disappointed. Instead, her anger and frustration only grow. "You are supposed to die," she repeats emphatically. "You have to die!"
Almost certain that she is about to attack me, I drain all the emotion from her, leaving a blank slate. She stares at me, blinking once, before looking at the king, then back at me.
"Why do I have to die?" I ask her.
She blinks again, staring vaguely into the distance. "So I can have legs."
Kairon groans behind me. "That's all they've told me. Kill the girl, wait for reinforcements, somehow get legs."
"And Shan?" I ask him, not taking my eyes off Veil.
"Shan gave no reason at all. Remembered nothing."
I hmm in thought. "Well, this one remembers something. For some reason, she's willing to let me die without a care in the world as long as she gets legs."
"I just wanted legs." Some niggling, hot emotion fills her.
Jealousy. "You already have legs?" I gesture to the admittedly torn-to-shred proof in front of us, and she wiggles her toes, wincing at the pain.
"But I want to keep them, control them."
"Like the queen?" That hot emotion grows, and I let it overshadow all the other feelings plaguing her.
"No. Vanya," she spits the Syren princess's name. "Vanya gets to keep her legs permanently."
"Only Valta can walk on land freely," the king comments behind me. "Vanya shouldn't have that power until she takes the throne."
Veil grits her teeth. "And yet, she does. They gave her legs, gave her freedom. I just want legs."
"Shut up, Veil!" the other Syren shrieks from behind her. "You'll ruin everything."
The other Syren jumps suddenly, trying to attack me. The second she's within reach, my fingers graze hers, and she stops.
She looks at me, confused, before plopping down and shaking her head. "No." She tries to fight against me. "No, you won't control me. No, no, no." She tries scratching at her head, her actions entirely at odds with the lack of emotion I'm allowing her to feel.
"Please calm down," I beg, trying to soothe her with a dose of trust toward me and even a little fondness for good measure. "Can you tell me your name?"
"Tia," she answers, fingers twitching.
I nod, smiling softly. "Tia, it's nice to meet you."
"They're going to kill us," she tells me, fear growing in her chest. "They said if you touch us, we are useless, and they'll kill us."
I swallow against the lump growing in my throat. Whoever is behind this not only knows about my powers but also how they work. "Who?" Kairon asks.
"I— I'm not sure. There's a man and a woman. And they have... they have us. They have Vanya, but Vanya has them, too." She blinks, eyes rolling into her head like she could find the answers in there if she just looked hard enough.
"And what did you gain from being a part of this?" I ask.
"Legs."
"What is with these Syrens and their fucking legs?" Kairon mutters, scoffing.
