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“Sit down,” Moira urged. “I’ll tell you what I know of the Sirens.”
Moira and I woke before dawn the next day. After a quick breakfast before the twilight sun crested the sky, turning the horizon from orange to purple, we raced down to the cradle. Moira was determined to get out of the door with the other recruits.
I had no idea what awaited me at the hands of the Sirens.
Ever since I was a child, I had lived in Cruinn castle—a place that didn’t wake until the sun from the Day Court rose in the distance and turned the lake to its daytime colors. Being a court member and the queen’s daughter had afforded me luxuries in some places and handicaps in others.
The Siren Queen had alluded to my bloodline the night before, speculating. She had mentioned my mother by name, but she didn’t believe that I could possibly be the Mad Queen’s daughter. Perhaps she thought I was King Irvine’s love child.
It felt kind of novel. To be free of the shackles of expectation. Of people watching and waiting for my eventual insanity or a bid for the throne that would no doubt provide a show. I had been fodder for speculation since I had woken to the world, but I was a nameless Undine to the Sirens. Pitiful without wings or magic. Running from a war-torn lake.
I had to keep my head down. Pay attention to what was expected of me and tried not to make waves. As long as the Siren Queen did not use her silvers to call my uncle, I could bide my time. Perhaps learn a few skills before braving the Dark Sea and crossing the Night Court.
Moira and I waited at Belisama’s Cradle, the hewn stone cliffs casting the canyon floor in shadow. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust without faelight.
Moira shifted from foot to foot as we waited at the end of the line of recruits. All younger than Moira and me. Their wings were feathered but ungilded. Their limbs were gangly, and their movements unsure.
Though I had not reached magical majority, my body and mine were fully matured. Or I liked to think so. I was twenty-five years old—by the rotation of the seasons. I had come to accept that perhaps I would never gain my magic, but maybe the gods offered me a new opportunity.
Moira and the other recruits snapped to attention; their chins tilted to the sky as they squinted against the bright moonlight.
Moira nudged me in the ribs so hard that I staggered. She grabbed my arm, but I had fallen out of the regimented line of recruits.
Arden soared across the glowing moon as it hung over the canyon, his wings large enough to create an impressive shadow. His wings snapped to his body as he dived down, shooting like an arrow to the canyon floor so fast that my eyes struggled to track him. His golden features glinted as he landed in front of us. The entire display was over so quickly that I hadn’t had time to rejoin the line.
Arden’s eyes narrowed when he studied the recruits and finally landed on me.
“Drills,” he said simply, jerking his chin towards the floor.
Without a word, every other person in the line dropped to the sand and began doing an eccentric exercise that involved pushing their body up from the floor, with their legs remaining straight.
I eyed them warily, wondering if I could even accomplish such a feat, when Arden stopped in front of me.
“Drills,” he repeated.
I nodded, wincing at the show I knew I was about to provide. I lowered myself to the ground and got into the same position, but the moment I tried to lower myself, my arms shook, and my stomach clenched uncomfortably. I couldn’t rise up from the sandy dirt. Unused to moving without the gentle hand of the currents to help me. Everything above the surface was more challenging and more complex.
I grunted, bending my knees and arching my back to help myself rise, when I felt a booted foot on the base of my spine. I flopped down on the sand, the air expelled from my lungs in a simple grunt.
I tilted my chin before I hit the ground, saving my nose by sacrificing my tongue. A bright spark of pain blinded me momentarily as my teeth bit down. I scrambled to pull myself up as the foot pulled away from my spine. My fists balled, and my teeth bared.
“Don’t do that again,” I snarled, pushing myself to stand. I was very aware that Arden towered over me, but at that moment, I didn’t care.
“You’ve never done a push-up?” Arden crossed his arms over his muscular chest.
I gestured wildly. “Don’t push me to the floor,” I commanded, unsure why my heart was beating in fear at the idea of being pinned.
Maybe I was more affected by the past few months than I had thought. My mind cast back to the dark tent on the night of the massacre as an unknown Mer crawled into my tent to rape me.
Arden’s lips pulled away from his teeth. “If you don’t want people to push you to the ground, learn to fight back.”
“That’s what I’m doing,” I replied.
A nasty glint lit up his eyes. “You need to focus.”
“And you need to lay off,” I bit back. “I’m here, and I'm going to learn.”
“Do a pushup then, right now.” Arden tilted his chin to the dirt.
