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Relearn - Brook - Chapter 10 - I Cant Kill Them on an Empty Stomach

  TRIGGER WARNING: sacrifice of a human at the orders of the King

  Chapter 10

  I Can’t Kill Them on an Empty Stomach

  “Shit,” Phoenix hisses, fiery eyes flashing. “That’s fucked up.”

  “The Siren?” Grey asks, voice rising several octaves with anxiety. His fingers tremble, and he folds in on himself several times over.

  “Yeah, that creature that could, without much effort, sing everyone to death? It could make everyone forget to breathe. But the real fucked up thing is that it could kill the cream puff, and yet he’s summoning it. Although he’s not gonna do it himself. He knows it could kill him, but he’s doing it anyway.”

  Seneca grimaces. “We need to stop him. Or whoever he’s sent to summon the Siren.”

  “Yeah, obviously,” Phoenix grumbles. “I’m getting a bite to go. I can’t kill them on an empty stomach.”

  xxxx

  Phoenix does grab something to eat. He gets a rabbit that he splits with Ky, and it’s gone in mere moments.

  Ky points us in the direction of Siren’s Lookout, and I wonder how much he knows about the legends of Ragdon and how many are actually true. Gone from Ragdon for ninety years as I was, there’s so much I’ve missed and so much I don’t know. Ky’s younger, but he seems to know so much more.

  I look down at Astra, who’s following close behind Icarus and chatting with him about something that I cannot follow along with.

  Is it safer to stay in the Sea? How far does the Siren’s song carry?

  Ky seems to sense my hesitation.

  “I know it might not seem like it,” he says, “but it’s safer for you to be at Siren’s Lookout. Please trust me, even though I know it’s gotta be hard. It’s safer for both you and Astra. No matter what happens, stay at Siren’s Lookout. Remember that, please.”

  I hold Ky’s gaze, then nod. “Ok.”

  I hope he’s not wrong.

  xxxx

  Freedom and Jabez join us partway to Siren’s Lookout. They tell us that Katelin told them as she ran to us at the Erebus Tree; they’d been making their way to us and she found them first and they changed course for Siren’s Lookout.

  “Will they summon the Siren?” Astra asks as Freedom runs her trunk over her head and neck.

  Spasms shudder across Freedom’s body, and her wing flutters, snapping open until her body goes quiet.

  “I don’t know,” Jabez says. “But we will try to stop them.”

  “We’re gonna be fucked if they summon the Siren, but we ain’t goin’ down without a fight.”

  “It’ll be harder if the Siren rises, but nothing’s over until it’s over,” Ky says softly. He draws his ears back.

  A cloudy film swirls over his eyes before it pulls back. He flicks his tail, tan fluffy fur swishing across his body.

  When we reach the Wailing Marshes, the reeds brush against each other in a haunting, urgent melody, as if they can tell that something’s about to happen. The blades rasp against each other like musical instruments. I throw my head and stomp my hooves at the antsy feeling rising within me. I turn my neck to take in as much as I can see with only one seeing eye.

  Siren’s Lookout spreads out in front of the Wailing Marshes, an expanse of grey stone cliffs that look so innocent, just rock partially hidden behind the thick stalks of reeds whispering across each other like living beings talking in conversation. I’ve been here before, when Guard and Soldiers have taken me here before. I’d heard them talking about the Siren, I remember, but I hadn’t understood. I hadn’t realized what the Siren was. I hadn’t truly understood. I didn’t understand until now.

  Fuck.

  I scan Siren’s Lookout, but Phoenix breaking into a sprint, fire streaking behind him in bright grey colors mixed with brilliant yellows draws my attention. I lock onto him, following where he’s honed in like an arrow. Grey rocks on his feet, shaking his hands as he takes rapid breaths, quickly hyperventilating.

  Freedom brushes his shoulder with his trunk but she herself is trembling and I don’t know whether its because of the damage done from being dead all those decades or the stress of the Siren hanging over our heads. Maybe it's both.

  “Get back from there!” Phoenix bellows, bunching up his spine as he bounds faster and faster, and I see where he’s headed.

  The Dust Devil kneels with his back to us. He crouches on the very edge of Siren’s Lookout, bracing himself on one hand as he traces and draws and carves. His movements are sharp, and he holds his body in a stiff sort of way, but also with a confidence that doesn’t seem to match the bone-deep exhaustion I remember from the first time I saw him. That defeated hollowness that struck me so hard. He moves with purpose, every movement sure.

  I hesitate in the Wailing Marches, the reeds brushing against my legs, the highest blades rustling alongside my cannons. The reeds whisper across each other, and I can almost hear them speaking, saying something, talking of Ragdon and the King.

  Are you trying to tell me something? Are you the beings Lucius has claimed? Are you the beings the King has wronged? Are you the beings trapped, forever cursed to walk this island because the King lashed out in cowardly rage when he should have looked inward for what’s wrong in the world?

  Ky trots up ahead after Phoenix, who has nearly reached the Dust Devil. Ky’s shaggy tan fur shifts with every step. The red bandana falls in front of his chest like a faux shield. No more blood drips down his nose, but I can still see the grey droplets. Grey moves more carefully, but Phoenix barrels forward.

  A crowd of Ragdonians moves in as well, and with that many beings, no one can stay silent in the way Ky and Phoenix and Grey were likely thinking. They must’ve heard. Word must’ve spread, that the Siren was going to be summoned, that the King was trying to bring the Siren to life, to the surface, to… whatever the Siren is. I don’t know if the Siren lives, but it belongs at the bottom of the ocean, well below the waves.

  I keep Astra beside me as the Dust Devil pauses, holding a knife. He pushes his cloak from his shoulders and throws it off the cliff, where it falls in a dark plume of fabric, plummeting into the crashing waves. His brown hair streaked through with brown-grey I assume is red blows in the breeze.

  Rolling his shoulders, the Dust Devil stands up, sunlight glinting off his silver armor in blinding reflections that make the carving of the Dragon in his chest plate look like its eyes are glowing. He widens his stance, blinking as he slams his palms together. Dust bursts in a cloud at his feet around his boots. Segmented black horns curl up from his forehead as dark veins sprout amongst the scattering of freckles on his face. His fingernails lengthen into ebony claws.

  “Leave,” he says, voice low and commanding.

  A handful do leave, retreating the same ways they came and heading back toward the Sea with fear written clear across their faces and in the tight set of their bodies.

  Grey shakes his head, fingers scratching at his thighs as he licks his lips. “I can’t do that. I don’t know what you are doing, but please stop. I’d like to talk and have a conversation.”

  To my surprise, the Dust Devil does seem to pause and genuinely consider Grey’s proposition. He tilts his head to the side, something warring in his expression. He takes a step forward, then takes a step back. Gritting his teeth, the Dust Devil huffs, clenching a hand into a fist tight enough that it draws blood.

  “Ain’t it obvious, Grey?” Phoenix shouts back as he trots up toward the Dust Devil. “Our friend, the Dust Devil, here is summoning the Siren. Aren’t you, Dust Devil?”

  Eyes squinted in mocking humor and annoyance, the black cat waits for the Dust Devil to reply, flames crackling loudly on his fur.

  The Dust Devil nods, running his hands through his hair, eyes wide. The tings of blue-grey I recognize as purple widens and shrinks, alternating between the two in an odd display.

  “Yes,” he whispers, almost too quiet for me to hear. “I am trying to summon the Siren.”

  “Why?” Ky asks, a thread of worry weaving its way through his voice.

  “The King told me to.”

  “And you just do whatever the fuck the cream puff asks?”

  The Dust Devil hesitates for a moment but nods. “Yes. It is my duty as a Soldier to carry out the requests of my King of Ragdon faithfully and without question.”

  “If you cannot question someone, should you really be following them?” Grey asks. “I don’t mean to force you into anything, but that’s a genuine question.”

  “I am a Soldier,” the Dust Devil says, voice firm.

  “I know,” Grey says.

  I take a step forward. “Did you choose to be the Dust Devil?”

  The Dust Devil narrows his eyes.

  Something shifts in his expression, then it snaps shut like a trap and he’s gone, locked away beneath the veneer of someone —something— else. In the shortest span of time, I thought that perhaps we could’ve talked with the Dust Devil, but then he was gone, lost, thrown beneath something else.

  Where did you go?

  “Bow before the Amethyst Throne and the rightful King of Ragdon, Our Sovereign, His Excellency, His Honor, His Highest of all Highnesses, King Garonda XIV. Kneel as I summon the Siren at his request. The Siren has never before been summoned, but in his name the impossible shall be completed.”

  “Stop it!” Ky shouts. “The Siren has never been summoned because of the danger! The power it possesses can kill us all!”

  “Silence, illusionist,” the Dust Devil snarls, holding up a hand. Dirt swirls around his ankles. “Do not question the King of Ragdon.”

  Ky rushes forward, but the Dust Devil throws up an arc of soil that knocks him off his feet. I move forward, but Phoenix beats me to it, roaring as he sends a wave of flames at the Dust Devil, who blocks them with a wall of dust as the black cat checks on his brother.

  Seneca shifts, taking a step back and rolling her shoulders and head as antlers that curve forward with sharp tines sprout from above her ears. Fur breaks through her flesh as her fingers morph into two and fingernails expand into cloven hooves. When Seneca stands at her full height in her deer form, her antlers reach Icarus’s shoulders if he stands fully upright.

  Icarus chitters, and Seneca blows, raising her tail. She eyes not the Dust Devil but Guard and Soldiers approaching from far off on Siren’s Lookout.

  “Shit,” Grey curses.

  “Yes,” I murmur, squaring my nostrils and shifting on my hooves.

  “We should outrun them,” Astra says, dancing on her paws.

  “You can, but not all of us are as fast as you,” I reply. I duck my head to nuzzle at her.

  Astra hums. “Right. You are right.”

  Phoenix tries to round the Dust Devil to get to the cliffside and make his way along the cliff’s edge, but the Dust Devil sends up another wave of dust that keeps him from doing so.

  What is the Dust Devil hiding? What sort of spell is he casting? What does he not want us interfering with in his attempts to summon the Siren?

  “You really don’t want to do this,” Grey pleads. He paces and stalks back and forth, running his hands through his hair and tugging at the strands and scratching at his arms until Icarus nudges him with his beak.

  A smile that couldn’t look more out of place on the Dust Devil’s face splits his cheeks in two. He curls his fingers, and Ky begins to choke, sand falling from his lips.

  Ky widens his eyes as dust pours from his nose. His tail falls, ears drooping. He trembles, spasming.

  “Oh,” the Dust Devil purrs, “but I do. My Sovereign, His Excellency, His Honor, His Highest of all Highnesses, King Garonda XIV requested it. Whatever —and I mean whatever; I will obey every order, every request, every ask, every word said to me by the rightful ruler of this Island of Ragdon— My Sovereign, His Excellency, His Honor, His Highest of all Highnesses, King Garonda XIV orders, I will dutifully carry out without question, because those words came from the King of Ragdon.”

  “You make my ears bleed,” Phoenix snarls. “Get your magic off my brother!”

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  Through what I can only assume is brute force, the black cat brawls his way through the dust and soil the Dust Devil sends hurtling around them both. Seneca rushes over to help, but only after sending Icarus a withering glare that I assume was a message for him to stay here, which he does; the golden eagle comes to stand beside me and Astra, standing watch as the Guard and Soldiers on the far side of Siren’s Lookout draw steadily closer.

  The crowd of Ragdonians on Siren’s Lookout hasn’t dispersed much. There’s still far too many for the Dust Devil being what I know is far too close to having summoned the Siren.

  Phoenix breaks through the barrier the Dust Devil tries to keep erected between him and the black cat, and once he does, Phoenix tackles the Dust Devil to the ground, forepaws slamming the Dust Devil to the stone cliffs of Siren’s Lookout. With a snarl, Phoenix cuffs the Dust Devil across the face.

  I look over at Ky. Seneca reaches his side and noses at him. Ky shrugs, glancing back at the Deer. Blood drips down his jaw, and my heart sinks through my legs. He looks relatively unfazed, but the tremble in his paws and the panic in his eyes tells a different story; dust runs from his nose.

  He can’t breathe.

  The Dust Devil is keeping him from breathing.

  The tension in Phoenix’s body says everything I need to know about how much he wants to tear the Dust Devil to pieces, but he cannot, because if he kills the Dust Devil and that does not undo the magic, Ky could die. I want to help, but I don’t know what to do and I can tell Icarus doesn’t know what to do either. Fear and disbelief keep me frozen in place, unable to move for far too long.

  Blood drips down Ky’s jaw further, and I can’t tell at first whether he is summoning the Blood Demon again or if the dust filling his lungs and throat has done enough damage to rub his tissues raw. I see Ky’s lips move, and I cannot tell at first if he’s trying to clear some of the dust that’s pouring from his throat or if he’s speaking the words of I summon the Blood Demon to bring the immense sanguine creature.

  But when I see the ground ripple with grey, my heart sinks and panic seizes me.

  I remember Ky’s words when he told us to stay at Siren’s Lookout, but the part of me that wants to listen to that, to trust him cannot obey when fear has seized me in the way it has. Terror wraps claws and snake fangs around my heart, my being, my soul and I’m terrified for Astra. She cannot hear the Siren’s song. The Guard and Soldiers scare me. I’m petrified of what the King can do to Astra. But I don’t know the Siren. I don’t know what threat it poses. That’s enough for me.

  “Astra, if I tell you to run, I need you to do so immediately, ok? Run as far and as fast as you can, and I will find you as soon as I can, ok?”

  “Yes, ok.”

  Maybe if she runs far enough, she will not be able to hear its song. Maybe there’s somewhere she can run where she can escape the Siren and the King.

  Phoenix wrestles the Dust Devil to the ground, strong-arming him to the ground, then wraps his jaws around his throat. He bites down harder, then a little more, then a little more, until the Dust Devil lets Ky go. Soil and dirt pours from Ky’s mouth as the illusionist coughs and chokes and sputters. The Dust Devil waves his hand, and the rest leaves Ky’s throat and lungs, leaving him able to breathe normally, and he gulps down air.

  The Dust Devil shoves the black cat away, and he goes willingly

  “Leave, and let me do the work My Sovereign, His Excellency, His Honor, His Highest of all Highnesses, King Garonda XIV informed me I must do. I was tasked with summoning the Siren by the rightful King of Ragdon, and it is my duty to carry out the wishes of he who has saved my life.”

  “You do not owe him your life,” Jabez says, flicking an ear. “He told me that, and I believed it. You owe him nothing.”

  “I owe him everything,” the Dust Devil corrects, eyes flashing the blue-grey I know is amethyst. He cracks his knuckles in what seems to be a nervous gesture. “I owe My Sovereign, His Excell—.”

  Grey shakes his head, pleading in his silver eyes. “No,” he whispers, “no you don’t. You owe him nothing.”

  I start to wonder if we can get him back. Perhaps the Dust Devil can stop. I feel the tiniest flicker of hope in my heart, my gut, my chest. I eye the Guard and Soldiers nearing us and I know we have to work fast.

  “Is it an equal relationship if you must call the King by such a title? Does he listen to your voice? Can you disagree with him?” Freedom asks. She raises her trunk, curling it as she waves her tail.

  “Why would I need to disagree with my rightful King of Ragdon?” the Dust Devil questions, and the genuine tone in his voice scares me the same way it would almost make me feel bad if he hadn’t tried to kill Ky and the other crimes he’s committed in the name of the King.

  “This is going in circles. He’s not gonna listen,” Phoenix grumbles. He stalks in a circle, stomping his paws on the stone cliffs of Siren’s Lookout, before turning back to the Dust Devil, who watches him as he stands somewhat awkwardly, facing away from the sigil he’s almost finished that will summon the Siren once complete.

  “How about you just don’t summon the Siren? Call it a day and say it didn’t work. Too bad, so sad, what a bummer, cry a few tears and go home?” Phoenix asks, a sarcastic lilt to his tone.

  But the Dust Devil looks mortified. He shakes his head and takes a step back. “No, no, no, I… I could never. No, I could never lie to My Sovereign, His Excellency, His Honor, His Highest of all Highnesses, King Garonda XIV.”

  “Fuckin’ shame.”

  xxxx

  The Guard and Soldiers reach us. They split into two groups; one makes for the gathering of people. Instead of herding them away like I thought they would, they make an odd effort to more or less keep them there; the Guard and Soldiers don’t try to chase people away, nor do they try to attack. There’s an odd air of watch, that underlying sentiment that’s never spoken but rather implied without words.

  The other group is far smaller, only a Guard and two Soldiers who accompany him. They approach the Dust Devil.

  Phoenix takes a step back, while I take a step forward to stand over Astra.

  Ky looks back, and he swivels his ears and shakes out his fur.

  “Don’t run,” Ky says. “There’s nowhere you can run from the Siren. Some songs can be outrun. Some songs cannot be heard if you’re far enough away, but its Lullaby carries far faster and further than even Astra could run at her fastest. Not even Astra can outrun the Siren’s Lullaby.”

  “I know,” I reply, then whisper, far too quiet for him to hear, “I know.”

  Ky shakes again, more rapidly this time, and the ground shakes again. I see his lips move, but the sound is too soft for me to pick up, even as I strain.

  But when I see the three-toed hand emerging from a rippling pool, my heart sinks and my legs nearly give out.

  “What’s that?” Freedom asks.

  “The Blood Demon!” Astra shrieks. “Ky! Stop it!”

  Ky doesn’t respond if he hears Astra’s words. He doesn’t wait for the Blood Demon as it pulls itself out of the ground again, smushed nose drawing in deep, heaving breaths as its tongue lolls far out of its mouth and its curved teeth on its upper jaw wrinkle its lips into an imitation of a smile. Broad shoulders and a thick neck pull its grey flesh taut across its frame. I know the Blood Demon is red, and for not the first nor the last time a part of me wished I could see in the way considered normal. The Blood Demon’s cloven hooves stomp as it gets one leg, then another, out of the puddle. Its thin, wiry tail snaps as it rises to its full height— tall enough that it would stand a head or two above me.

  With slow, heavy steps, the Blood Demon makes its way over to Ky, massive twin horns curving forward over its forehead casting its beady eyes into shadow. Its flattened nose wiggles as it sniffs the air, then draws in a long breath and lets it out in a bellow that carries, echoing across Siren’s Lookout.

  Ky turns to face the approaching Guard and Soldier, tail held high. Phoenix stands a few paces in front of him, flames crackling in an eerie kind of way. He’s waiting for a fight, ready, confident, though he keeps half an eye on the Dust Devil, as if daring him to make a move. Tense, the black cat is ready for something, anything.

  When was the last time he got to rest?

  Jabez and Freedom close in around Astra, though I can tell from Jabez’s posture and body language that he’s getting tired and the pain is increasing. Astra shivers beneath me, then leans against my foreleg with a yawn that’s not from sleepiness but stress.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, leaning down and angling my head so I can see her with my eye. “I’m so sorry, Astra. I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe. Just stay with me. We’re a team, and we have Jabez and Freedom and everyone fighting alongside us, ok?”

  “We’re gonna work together, ok, Astra?” Camden says, and Grey agrees with him.

  Icarus chatters, and Astra nods slowly, then more firmly.

  “Yeah,” she says. “Yeah, we’re gonna work together.”

  xxxx

  The Guard and the two Soldiers who broke off from the bigger group reach the Dust Devil. The fight breaks out almost instantly.

  Phoenix lunges for one of the Soldiers, clawing at his armor as his paws struggle for traction on the smooth surface. He snarls when the Soldier nicks his skin with his sword in the close combat. Grey jerks with a start, like he wants to break into the fight and stop it but he holds himself in place.

  The Guard passes both Ky and Phoenix by, heading straight for the Dust Devil, whose demeanor snaps in a moment and goes from the cautious body language that seemed to fold in on himself into something entirely different; a person with far more confidence who holds himself fully upright.

  With his shiny dagger drawn, the Guard moves to attack the Dust Devil, body oddly tense compared to all the training sessions I’d been privy to as a draft horse in the King’s army before he turned me into Brook. The Guard’s knuckles pale to a dull white around the handle of the dagger and a sheen of sweat sparkles on the back of his neck.

  I try to urge Astra toward Icarus and Freedom, who, in turn, wrap Astra up between them, walling her off within a barrier of protection yet again. Freedom nudges Astra behind her with her trunk, and yellow tendrils swirl around Freedom’s elephant’s feet, moving as if they had a mind of their own.

  When the Guard and the Dust Devil begin to brawl, Phoenix sniggers, lips twitching in a mocking close-mouthed smile. He wrinkles his muzzle, flames crackling loud enough that I can hear them from where I stand with Guard and Soldiers mingling among the other Ragdonians, and Phoenix then turns back to where a Soldier, with a fatal wound to the hollow of his throat rolls over as blood pours down his front and pools in his mouth as he coughs and sends bloodied spittle flying from his lips, lays on the ground, making an attempt to roll over.

  “No,” Phoenix growls.

  He cuffs the Soldier around the face with sheathed claws, then rakes his claws through the Soldier’s jaw and jugular vein. In a few moments, the Soldier goes still, then after another few stops moving entirely and takes on another look, seemingly a different being entirely than the moment before. The difference between life and death, when he was within Erebus’s hold before he passed over into Lucius’s claim. When Erebus’s crane, Aiyana, gave him to Ananta who signaled to Lucius that the Soldier was here.

  What do I do? I think as my heart races in my chest, pulse quickening, doubling over, getting faster and faster before I can do anything about it. How do I keep Astra safe? Ky said to stay here, to not run away, but I don’t know what else to do.

  That Soldier could be Astra and I don’t know that I can get an audience with Lucius to trade my life for hers, and I don’t know that I can find my way into Lucius’s realm to fight my way to get her back and pull her back into Erebus’s hold.

  “We’ll figure it out,” Freedom says.

  She brushes her wing up against me. Despite how her feathers shake and tremble, I find the comfort I did before I left at her and Jabez’s request, before I found out she died beneath Arcane’s magic. Somehow, just as she did all those decades ago, she knows when I’m spiraling, when I’m struggling, when I need comfort, and she knows just what to do without having to ask.

  “What are they doing? We’re gonna end up dead. Can we take all of them?” Grey asks. He scratches at his arm.

  “We’ll figure it out,” Camden says.

  “We have to figure it out,” Jabez murmurs, eyeing the Guard and Soldiers.

  With the two Soldiers dead and the first group mingling with Ragdonians but doing nothing to indicate they intend to cause any harm, Phoenix doesn’t make a move, much to my surprise. He watches, eyes narrowed and whiskers raised as his ears swivel back and forth between pinned and pricked. Ky watches, too, as his tail swishes against his hind legs.

  When a Guard tries to approach, Jabez lunges, slamming his paws on the ground several times as he spits and snarls, stirring up dust. His sides heave and I know it’s from the exertion of all the energy he just spent. I flatten my neck and pin my ears, blowing. Icarus flares his feathers and Freedom raises her wings.

  The Guard retreats, holding up his hands, and Jabez returns, panting. Astra runs her cheek across his shoulder and he nuzzles into her.

  “They shouldn’t mess with us!”

  Icarus turns his attention back to Seneca, who stands beside Ky. Her head moves back and forth as the Guard and the Dust Devil exchange blow after blow.

  Seneca glances back at Icarus, head tilted to the side, and her antlers cast sharp shadows across her face. The dark green triangles beneath her eyes are visible even from far away.

  The Guard trips and lands on his knees, but before the Dust Devil can land any sort of killing blow with his fists or nails elongated into claws with his magic, the Guard drops in a clumsy kind of roll to lash out and attempt to keep the Dust Devil at bay. With a sickening crack, the Dust Devil grabs onto the Guard’s leg and twists until bone breaks. The Dust Devil’s face doesn’t move or budge except for the tiniest wince that’s gone before I can even confirm it’s there, leaving me wondering if I’d imagined it. The Guard howls, kicking out with his other leg at the Dust Devil’s forearm.

  When the Dust Devil lets go, the Guard shoves himself forward on his good leg, dagger at the ready as he sends the Dust Devil falling to the ground on his back. The Guard on top, he’s about to sink his dagger deep into the hollow of the Dust Devil’s throat.

  Do it, I think, tense above Astra as Jabez and Icarus stand in front of her, trying to prevent her from seeing much.

  Camden stands below me, distracting Astra with the mouse he’d made and trying to keep her talking about something, anything. Katelin tries to join in, but she’s mostly just quiet, exhausted and drained and scared. She leans against her brother, hugging herself. Grey lingers beside them.

  Despite the Dust Devil’s attempts to push up against the Guard’s forearms, the tip of the dagger brushes his skin and draws a pearl of blood, shiny and grey in a shade I know is a bright, scarlet red. It glistens in a sick kind of way, looming, waiting.

  “A little more, dear Guard,” Phoenix purrs. “Don’t let me stop you here.”

  That moment of distraction is enough.

  The Dust Devil, despite hesitating, rips the Guard’s dagger from his hand and spears the Guard in the heart. Underneath the Guard as he is, the Dust Devil is immediately drenched in blood when he yanks the dagger out, and it spills over his silver, metal armor and the ground beneath him, soaking the stone of Siren’s Lookout.

  “Aww, shucks.” Phoenix tilts his head to the side. “So sad. I really thought it was gonna go the other way.”

  The Blood Demon draws in deep breaths, grunting as it scents the blood spilled. Its jaws chatter and its pupils shrink then blow wide. It roars, tongue lolling as it bellows and watches the Guard’s blood spill. Ky watches the Blood Demon, then turns his attention back to the scene with the Guard, and fear works its way across his expression. I draw my ears back.

  What do we do? What do I do? What can I do from here? I don’t know. I don’t know, and I hate that.

  The Guard shakes and spasms as Lucius comes for him, then takes him and brings him into their claim, then collapses atop the Dust Devil, who grimaces as Phoenix snickers and laughs at him. The Dust Devil pushes the Guard off of him, then rolls the Guard’s body to its side as blood continues to seep from his body.

  The Guard’s blood pools around him. With nowhere to go and nowhere to seep into, it stays in place, forming a puddle that soon begins to move.

  Like worms, the Guard’s blood pulls from his body entirely, leaving him far too pale, and begins to wriggle like it has a life of its own, gifted by Erebus. It creeps without aim at first, moving as though it’s searching, and the Dust Devil sits up.

  “Get it!” Ky shouts, eyes finding the Blood Demon. His voice pitches up into a shriek. “Stop it! Please, you have to stop it! Don’t let the blood reach the sigil!”

  The Blood Demon tilts its head, teeth glinting in the sunlight. It licks its nose, flexing its fingers. Tail snapping, it tilts its head the other way. Then, it shakes its head.

  Ky’s face falls into panicked pleading. “Please, please, you have to be able to do something.”

  The Blood Demon’s long ears droop. It leans forward, taking a few small steps and hope blooms in my heart when the Blood Demon leans down to sniff the Guard’s blood and even takes a lick. But then the Blood Demon stands back up and turns around. It shakes its head again.

  No.

  Ky closes his eyes, and he looks like he’s about to cry. He looks over at Phoenix, really looks at him, as if he were trying to memorize every bit of his brother. Then Ky turns his attention back to the Guard’s blood. He sits down and waits, pain in every bit of his body language.

  The blood starts moving with a purpose, with aim, and it’s located the sigil.

  The moment the Guard’s blood touches the sigil to summon the Siren, the sigil lights up a blinding blue. The Dust Devil flinches and shields his eyes. Ky squints but doesn’t look surprised, and Phoenix doesn’t even blink. The Blood Demon raises its head, eyes unreadable.

  Below the cliffs of Siren’s Lookout, the roaring waves of the ocean storm ever more, turning into a churning mess that slams against the stone so hard I wonder if we’re all about to tumble into the sea as Ragdon shatters and crumbles beneath the force. Sea spray flies up into the air and hangs in rainbow mist for so long that I wonder if time has frozen. I grimace at the pounding thud, thud, thud of the agitated beating of the ocean as it hits Siren’s Lookout. The sea grows angrier and angrier, and then it all goes still.

  Everything stops all at once, and I don’t know what to make of it. I swish my tail and swivel my ears, turning my head in every direction to try to find something, some input, some sense of what I should do next, but I see nothing.

  xxxx

  It’s so soft at first, the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard, that I almost miss it.

  Muffled as it is by the oceans, it doesn’t hit in the same way.

  It goes quiet for a while, but then I hear it again.

  I hear a song, and that’s the first impression I get of the Siren.

  Shit.

  Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please comment your thoughts on The King's Remorse! And please consider a favorite and a follow if you have enjoyed this chapter!

  Up top is Phoenix, angry and ready to attack. I did this drawing a bit ago during nanowrimo and is Phoenix running after the Dust Devil

  Uh, oh... the Dust Devil succeeded in summoning the Siren

  What will come of that?

  Will the Siren be as dangerous as it seems to be?

  What will the Siren do? There have been a few hints as to what it's capable of, but as for what it will do and how this interaction with it will go now that it has officially arrived... that remains to be seen

  I hope you are having a nice December, and happy holidays of all kinds!

  -Werewolf14- :)

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