Cat Adams - Demon Song

Where her voice was the sweetest ringing of crystal wind chimes, my telepathy sounded like the harsh squawking of gulls: I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t startle me. I’m not like other sirens. I’d hate to prove your no-drowning theory wrong.

She laughed and the water grew more alive around us. I could feel more fish come to investigate, and strands of seaweed, completely out of place this far from shore, drifted by. Lopaka plucked the narrow green fronds from the water and began to idly twist them. “I would hate that as well. Monarchs should never be proven wrong. But while I am no psychic, I am … connected to my people, in tune with my subjects. Which is why I’m here. What was causing you such distress? I felt as though your very soul was screaming in agony earlier today. But now you seem well.”

Whoa. She could feel me in pain? I so didn’t want to project my life onto anyone. “How much earlier? It’s been a busy day. I got shot around two this morning and wanted to snack on my therapist about an hour ago.”

She shook her head with mild confusion. “It wasn’t physical. I’ve learned to tune such things out. This was psychic pain—panic and heartache and fear, all rolled into one. It was strong enough that I nearly fell, but I couldn’t find the source for some time. It was as though I was being blocked when I searched.” Her hands finally stopped fiddling beneath the water and came up bearing a crown fashioned of seaweed and tiny shells. She put it on her head while I wondered where in the world she’d found the shells. When I looked closer, I realized they weren’t shells but living snails, mollusks, and tiny starfish, clinging to the stiff blades of sea grass.

We were drifting out to sea, and that was going to mean an exhausting swim back unless we started now. “First, the crown thing is a very cool talent. Second, we need to start back or I’m going to be too tired to make it to shore. Last, do you recall what time you had the panic attack?” I’d felt that kind of panic twice in the last twenty-four hours—first when Kevin was being shot at and again while at the prison. Both times I’d been behind magic barriers.

“It was late afternoon. Definitely not night.”

I began to do the backstroke toward shore both so we could continue to talk and because it’s less tiring. The queen swam smoothly beside me. Her seaweed crown began to slip, but two tiny crabs crawled down and grabbed onto strands of her golden hair to stabilize it. “That wasn’t me then. I know exactly what you were feeling because I was feeling it, too. It was my mom.”

Lopaka turned her head and one storm gray eye dipped below the waves. The remaining pupil took on the color of the dark water and I could feel the strength of her will in its glittering depths. “Tell me.”

So I did. I stared up at the stars and swam and talked. By the time we reached the shore, I was both mentally and physically exhausted. I wasn’t sure exactly why I’d just told all my innermost secrets to Queen Lopaka, but I wasn’t sorry I had.

As she climbed out of the water, she took off the crown of seaweed and let it float out on the tide. I watched all the animals scatter back into the water and marveled at the beauty of the ocean. She handed me one of the thick towels I’d left on the beach, a vivid blue one that reminded me of the sky above the Isle of Serenity, Lopaka’s home. She took the red one that made her eyes turn silver. As I flipped my hair over to fluff it dry, I spotted a conch shell on the beach, one of the most beautiful I’d ever seen. I collect shells but only those I find myself. I tugged it out of the sand until it came free. I let the surf wash off the remaining dirt and held it up to look at it more closely.

Queen Lopaka stepped closer to see it in the dim light from the moon. “It is befitting a princess. The sea finds you worthy.”

That pulled a laugh from me. “I’ve always considered finding shells luck, not design.”

She smiled and it held a depth of knowledge that I didn’t possess. “You’re still young. Much of life, and death, is by design. Take your mother, for example. She is, by design, a siren. She carries our blood. There are many humans who carry siren blood, but not all are tied to the ocean. I believe she is, even if she doesn’t exhibit any other symptoms.”

I wrapped the towel around me and sat down on the sand. The queen sat down beside me, perfectly at ease. “What do you mean, tied to the ocean ? I was afraid that was affecting her, but I don’t really understand how it works.”

The queen held out her hands to the water with a beatific smile. “You feel the ocean, as do I. It lives, moves inside us, touches our hearts. You feel it more strongly now that your talent has fully manifested, but you’ve always felt it. To be apart from the ebb and flow of the ocean is to be in pain. The psychic torture you felt was the tearing of the bond between a siren and her ocean. I’ve felt it before, which is why I came to you today. While I wasn’t aware your mother had enough blood to be tied, it appears that she does. And now she’s behind walls, far from the water, with spelled barriers that sever magical ties. In effect, she’s starving to death … and she has no idea why.”

Oh, crap. Mom wasn’t only going through withdrawal from the bottle; she had been literally cut off from a vital organ. She was being tortured, though her jailers didn’t know it. I felt a pain in my chest. “What can we do? Is there some way to prove this to a judge so she can get released?”

Lopaka shook her head. “I wouldn’t suggest requesting her release. She’s broken the law and, frankly, her drinking has to stop. She’s endangering people and harming herself. Is it possible to simply add a saltwater fish tank to her cell? That would restore her connection, if only slightly.”

I shook my head. “I doubt it. Even with spells to make it unbreakable, other prisoners would complain about the smell, or the lights, or something.”

She nodded. “You may be correct. Perhaps there is a more elegant solution. We have a detention center on the island. I could petition the court to have her transferred to Serenity’s jail for health reasons. I have no doubt that her state of mind is affecting everyone in her present facility. If there have been more fights or suicide attempts, the judge will surely see it’s in the interest of all parties to move her. But if they refuse—” She touched my arm and her face looked truly stricken. “Then she will die. Not quickly and not kindly. And even if she is released when her condition becomes clear, the damage would be done and I don’t know if she could be saved.”

I looked out at the wide ocean and felt my eyes well. “I should have done something.” I didn’t know what I could have done, how I could have known, but I felt responsible.

“Celia, no. You have no part in this. You’ve already borne more burdens than most should have to suffer. I believe your mother can be helped, can be brought back into balance. I’d like to try, if you’ll allow me.”

Did I trust Lopaka to make my mother a whole person? Hell, yes!

She laughed because apparently I’d broadcast that thought.

I let out a slow breath. “Yes. I would be thrilled, and honored, if you could help her.” Gran would be thrilled as well. She might finally feel confident that Mom could get the help she needs, with people who understood why she’d turned to alcohol to mend herself.

“I’ll contact the authorities in the morning. Now I must go. I’ve kept several people waiting on board my vessel.” It made my eyes go wide. She’d interrupted a meeting to come see me? She stood easily from her near-yoga position and I realized once again that she looked really good for her age. Hell, for any age.