Siren's Song by Mary Weber Read Free Book Online

prickly.
    Firelights flicker in the distance, illuminating the dark kingdom beyond the window and Castle. Such lovely lights , I think. Like fireflies. Like the firefly trees at home in Faelen . . .
    The lights in the room seem to be dimming. The yellow glow from candles fading odd-like, and the guard is standing over me.
    â€œWhat . . . do with us?” My lips feel thick as my head hits the floor.
    â€œInterrogate you,” he says just as a door opens and the red hue of the Luminescents’ glowing eyes fills the hall.

CHAPTER 6
    DRIP DROP GOES THE SNOW, LIKE LITTLE LACE BUDS TWIRLING ONTO THE garden. The wind is swirling, humming, scattering the puffs beyond the breath-fogged window. “Look at the flakes, Father.”
    â€œAye.” He ducks his head near mine. “Lady Weather’s jealous. She’s trying to match your hair. Just like she’s tryin’ to match your harmonious voice.” He tweaks a white lock near my ear, and I glance up at his pockmarked face and dark curls cut short by Mum’s dainty hands.
    I frown. “But I don’t want it white. I want hair the same as yours.”
    He pauses, then pulls me onto his lap. It’s the first time I’ve mentioned such a thing, even though I’ve tried to stain my long locks dark with Fendres dirt many times when he and Mum weren’t looking. “Now, why’d you want to have a plain mess like this?” He brushes his curls up so they frizz out over his head like a burberry bush. “You want to look like a bolcrane? Is that it?” And before I can move, he’s curling his hands into pretend claws and tickling my sides. I scream and jump away to find my small wooden sword carved by those hands.
    â€œAll right, then! If I can’t eat you , I’ll go after your mum!” he roars, scampering on all fours toward the soft-faced angel currently knitting a Solstice gift in front of the fire.
    He snarls until she bats him back with her needle. “Tegan! You’ll make me drop a stitch and then the poor child will catch cold.” She laughs.
    â€œIt’s all right. I’ll save you, Mum.” I plant myself in front of her to face my father.
    â€œSave her? Impossible! You can’t defeat me!” He swipes the air with his taut, thick arms.
    â€œI don’t want to defeat you!” I giggle and toss my blade aside to throw my hands around his neck. “I want to tame you so I can ride on your back!”
    He stops and stares at me a moment before leveling his face to mine. And plants a kiss on my pale nose. “That’s my girl,” he whispers, scooping me into the rich scent of his earthen skin. “Never destroy what simply needs taming, Nymia. Mercy grows hearts more than bitterness.” He presses his hand against my heart. “Like this one in here.”
    I pucker my lips. “How do you know, Father?”
    â€œHow? Because I have you. My gift of mercy who’s grown this old heart right big. Good thing, too, ’cuz your mum’s cooking isn’t much for growing the stomach.”
    â€œI heard that,” Mum murmurs.
    â€œA gift?” I frown.
    â€œSure.” He tucks back another lock of my hair and settles a stare at me. “When you were born, you survived, though you weren’t supposed to.” His smile is soft. “I like to believe it was for your mum and me. For our hearts.” He sits up straight and clears his throat. “Now, how ’bout we sing something beautiful for your mum, eh?”
    Except . . .
    Except three hours later I open my eyes to discover that he was wrong because mercy cares little for the heart of a five-year-old girl. Nor does it do anything to douse the fires or death screams of her parents as she rouses to the awareness that she’s standing out in the blood-drenched snow, watching her home cave in. In the freezing mist, and ash, and horrific dark.
    Always that dark. Even more terrifying