Songbirds & Sirens

19

There was no telltale sign that my 'focus' was anything more than a daydream about all that had happened since I had come to Hefeta. 

If I could forget the fact that Soraya was standing before me with a scowl on her permanently beautiful face, then I could also forget the fact that I was in imminent danger, what with the King of Valencia on the edges of Hefeta ready to snatch and kidnap any Siren he could get his hands on. 

Why he hadn't placed more of a focus on trying to take down the community of Hefeta instead of ferreting out Sirens one at a time as they left the safety of their home, I wasn't sure, but it made sense to linger on the edges while collecting magical folk in order to help him take down the Sirens once and for all. 

Hefeta was on Valencia soil, after all. 

They were practically rubbing his nose in the fact that they could do what they wanted, and the only way he had a say in it was when one of the Sirens left their homeland. 

I found myself wondering about summoning the god Nicos.  

My mind reeled with all the possibilities that this ceremony would bring.  

Would I stay to help them perform it, or would I wait until just one day remained and take my leave of Hefeta, having been glad to know that out there were people like me...people who could understand my plight, my bloodstained soul and the blackened heart inside of me.

Or would I miss the people I had met?  Would Inala attempt to come with me, being sworn in her blood to me? 

Could I allow her to do that for me?

Or would I stay, and summon the strength of a god before my eyes, feel the rush of pure adrenaline and raw power that came with the fact of knowing that we had the might of an ancient deity on our side?

The thing about power was that once it seeped into your veins, there was no stopping the addictive rush you so suddenly craved. 

I'd been given a power at birth, a terrible, cursed power that I despised with every shimmering, golden drop of blood inside of me. 

No one questioned the terrifying moonlit mist that crawled from the depths of my throat as if the poison soaked soul inside of me had willed itself into a visible form, no longer content to reside inside someone with a conscience and held a loathing for the kill. 

Unless said kill was well deserved, that is.  Like those men who'd attempted to attack and kidnap a little Siren, her head barely coming up to a grown adult's waist. 

And maybe it was because she seemed so frail and small, so young and so much like me when I'd been taken to the brothels or the stockades or home after home after home until finally I'd learned to fight back with what I'd given, no matter how much I hated it, but I felt a kinship with her, just as I did the rest of the Sirens. 

But was that enough to stay and play my part in their story?  To summon a god from the ancient pantheon? 

The friendships from Inala, Sabira, and Erinna might've been enough, but there was still the matter of my sister Marlisa out there somewhere. 

I could find her and bring her back here to live amongst her people, along with her husband and child. 

If he baby turned out to be a boy, they could all live together on the men's side of the community and be safe, protected, home. 

But if the baby was born a girl and manifested the Siren powers, what then?  Would her and Drevan be split from them just as my parents had once been split from us, because my father could not withstand our Siren's call, and thus put him in unimaginable danger?