Beyond the Gateway (Cranksepticeye)

Eighteen

They made their way down Central Park West toward the Columbus Circle entrance to the park, past a trio of street musicians and a singer performing mellow jazz standards. They were good, Ethan noticed idly, despite the fact that the drummer was using an old hard-sided suitcase as his bass drum.
"Oh sweet goddess," Maddox murmured under his breath as they passed.
Ethan followed his gaze. Bathed in the light of a street-lamp, the willow-thin singer swayed gently to the music. She was dressed in a long, flowing sweater and ground sweeping skirt; her hair swung like a pale curtain in front of her face, party obscuring her features as she sang with closed eyes.
Still, Ethan knew her. All the Jade did.
She was a siren named Heather. One of the first of the Faerie to escape from the Otherworld after Auberon closed the Gates, she had crossed over to be with a mortal man, forsaking her deadly ways because of love. Unable to return after her lover's eventual death, she lived on in the mortal realm. Her home, it was rumored, was in one of the underground water caves deep beneath the park, connected through tunnels to the Hudson and East Rivers and so, eventually, to the sea.
She still made a living off her voice, but st least she no longer used it to lure unsuspecting sailors to their doom.
That's her story, Ethan thought. He didn't trust her.
Ethan turned back to find Maddox gazing at her, a dreamy expression on is face.
"Maddox?"
The other Jade sighed, his head nodding in time to the song.
"Maddox!" Ethan's voice turned sharp. "Snap out of it!"
"Hmm? Oh, I'm good . . . "
The music drifted over to where they stood, coiling through the late October night like a slow, lazy serpent. Beautiful, a little disturbing. Ethan closed his eyes for a brief second and shivered, opening them again before the sinewy melody had a chance to take a firm hold. When he looked over at Maddox, he saw the other Jade's eyes were completely closed. The planes of his face had relaxed, and a smile curled about his lips.
Ethan elbowed him sharply in the ribs. "Stop that!"
"What?" Maddox stood up straight. "I'm not doing anything."
"You're listening. That way madness lies."
"It was only a second."
"Madness."
"Right. So you're the only one allowed to go all moony over someone, then?"
"Shut up," Ethan muttered, glancing back at the temptress. From behind the silky veil of her hair, he thought he daw her wink at him. "And Heather is not a 'girl'. Heather is a Siren. She used to lure men to their deaths, you idiot."
Maddox looked mullish. "I hear she's changed."
The song ended and there was a smattering applause from the small, mostly male, audience that had gathered to listen to the band and its enchanting chanteuse. They dug into trouser pockets for bills and handfuls of change, grinning sloppily as Heather sashayed coquettishy before them with a tip basket.
The band launched into another song. This one started off melancholy, hardly any percussion and only a few drifting strains from the double bass. Then with the slow, mournful fall of notes from the sax, Heather began to sing. The melody was dark, compelling . . . familiar.
Ethan gasped.
He'd heard that song before.
It had the exact same tune as the "Philomel" lullaby from Jack's play.

**********

"Where did you get the music for that song?" Ethan said, dragging Heather off the moment the band finished. Maddox followed close behind.
Heather smiled. "Same place as all the others. Plucked it from the memories of a drowning soul."
Famous as Sirens were for the beautiful voices they possessed, they didn't actually have any music of their own. Their music was stolen, pilfered sounds taken from the minds of drowning mortals.
"I thought you were out of that business," Maddox said, a strong note of disappointment in his voice.
"Don't look at me like that." Heather pouted. "I had nothing to do with it. Not as if I lured him into the water. Took the plunge all on his own."
"Who? When?" Ethan leaned forward, despite his aversion to Sirens and their ilk.
"Pretty thing." Heather regarded him through sole eyes. " on the first night of the Nine. I almost had to let him die."
"Why?" Maddox frowned.
"He was helping a kelpie." The Fae shrugged. "Kelpie bite. Naughty things - especially that one. I was wisely trying to keep my distance."
"But you didn't." Ethan stared at her. "You saved the guy?"
Heather nodded.
"Why did you change your mind?"
"Mmm . . . " The tip of the Siren's pink tongue ran across the edges of her kitten-sharp teeth. "I heard his music. Pretty pretty music," she mused, remembering . She hummed a bit of the tune.
Ethan felt a stab of longing and could almost see Jack's face in his mind.
"Wonderful. Strange and wondrous . . . " The temptress opened her eyes and glanced sideways at him. "Too pretty to let die."
"What happened that night? With the boy?" Ethan grabbed her by the shoulders. "What did you do to him?"
"I saved his life!" she said indignantly. "Don't I get points for that? Against my nature and at great risk of injury from kelpie teeth and hooves!"
"And then you took his song."
"Only a tiny bit," she said, unwilling to meet his stare. "Fair bargain, I thought, and it didn't hurt him."
"Didn't it?" Ethan sneered. A Siren could steal all or part of the music from a person's memories. Stealing only fragments wouldn't necessarily cause death, but it would still hurt like hell.
"It didn't hurt him because of what he is. He doesn't know what he is." Then Heather did raise her gaze to meet his, her eyes glinting. "I do."
"You do?" Ethan felt his heartbeat quicken.
Heather must have heard it. She leaned toward him. "Oh, yes . . . I tasted it."
Ethan released her. "What is he?" he asked.
Heather's eyes were golden, he noticed. She sidled toward him, suddenly dangerous. "I'll bet you've got a few sweet tunes stored up in that pretty head of yours, Ethan Nestor. I'll tell you what I know if you just give me a little taste. . . . "
"Now wait just a minute, there!" Maddox sputtered.
"You're not my type." Ethan held his ground.
"Yeah, you're not," Maddox agreed feverishly. "You're really, really not."
She shrugged a thin shoulder and spun on her heel. "Then the boy's story stays with me." She moved swiftly up toward West Sixty-second Street.
"Damn," Ethan swore softly.
He ran down the sidewalk after her.
Heather slowed when she heard his footsteps, and turned.
From a distance, Ethan thought that he saw her eyes go red, hunger glowing in their depths. But by the time he reached her, they were just the flashing gold color they had been before.
"Just a taste," she said in a low, throaty voice.
Her arms wound around his neck like a strangling vine. Heather fastened her lips on Ethan's, and he felt the inside of his mouth go numb. A hollowing, paralyzing sensation crept down his throat, flooding through his chest. The terrible cold spread upwards into his brain, a wave of ice behind his eyes. Helpless in the Siren's iron grip, he felt her sifting through his memories. There was a tearing sensation deep in his mind and then a small, aching emptiness.
She'd taken a lullaby. The only memory he possessed of his mortal mother when he was a baby. From far away, he heard himself sob once. Then he was falling backward; Maddox caught him and lowered him gently to sit with his back against the stone wall surrounding the park.
Through watering eyes, Ethan looked up to see Heather standing statue still, eyes closed, her long fingers pressed to her lips. Maddox glared at her before turning back to Ethan, concerned.
"I'm all right," Ethan said, trying to make himself beleive it. "I'm all right."
Heather opened her eyes. "I'll tell you now about the boy, Ethan Nestor."

"Do you think she was telling the truth?"
"I didn't hear a lie in her voice. And I don't think you did either, Eth."
Ethan was silent.
"Sensitive information," Maddox said carefully . "And it's probably safe to assume, based on the Black Shuck attack, that we're not the only ones who possess it."
They leaped - Maddox nimbly, Ethan less so - over the wall and dropped into the undergrowth.
"Someone is after that boy, Ethan," Maddox continued . "And now we know why."
Ethan feared that Maddox was right, and that fear sent a wave of sick misery washing over him. "Do you think Heather told anyone else?"
"Dunno. She's still alive so . . . probably not." Maddox put a hand on Ethan's shoulder. "Doesn't really matter. One way or another, somebody besides us knows. And word like that gets out. Won't be long before the whole of the Otherworld knows."
Ethan nodded, lost in the enormity of their discovery.
"Ethan . . . you've found the Faerie king's son."