Authors: Naomi Fraser
Mum and Eric look at us
strangely. “I didn’t feel anything,” Mum says.
“Excuse us for a sec, Mum.”
“Righto.
I have that vase to clean up. We’ll just get out of your way.” Mum throws Eric
an amused glance, and they move off together, disappearing back into the house.
“That was easier than I
expected,” I say, watching them walk away.
Lakyn takes my free hand again.
Concern darkens his eyes.
A screech of tyres echoes at the
front of the house.
A channel eight van stops.
Cars
and kids continue to arrive while a camera man and reporter hop out of the van.
“Oh, God.
Reporters,” I say in a dead voice. Tightness grips my muscles. “I had a feeling
they wouldn’t give up.”
Lakyn steps toward the cliff, and
a sick, slow beat of foreboding thrums in my chest at the steadiness of his
gaze. “They have perfect timing. The sirens are here.”
“No,” I whisper in disbelief.
“You’re kidding?”
He swings back to me, and his
eyes are so blue they’re nearly black. His hand rests on my shoulder. “Listen.”
I breathe in deep and slow and
then close my eyes. At the high-pitched ringing, my lashes fly up. It’s a
vibration beneath the hard rap blasting out of the speakers. My nostrils flare
and a sharp tug crowds my insides, drawing me closer. Voices flow in a perfect
melody, like sighs on the breeze. My ears flood with heat and my hands shake.
The drink drops out of my hand, pink dots spilling across my wedges and the
grass.
I lift my head. The ocean is blue
on blue.
Starlit velvet on crashing waves at midnight.
Liquid song courses through my veins, and the wind picks at my curls one by
one.
Fingers of temptation.
Fight it, Ellie.
The bewitching tone taps into my emotions, calling up memories and longings I’d
since forgotten. Heartaches drenched in pain. Consolation lies at the end of
the path.
At the end of the path.
I need to follow the
path.
“Don’t,” Lakyn warns in my ear.
His arms are iron bands around my waist, his chin against my cheek. “You have
to resist them, Ellie. There’s a spell. Repeat it after me.” His tongue slurs
and smooths over foreign words. “Repeat them,” he urges after I listen in
silence, the music still holding me prisoner.
My mouth moves, tongue fat and
dry, until he sighs, then widens his stance, cradling me between his thighs.
“Let’s hope you have the magic to make it last. Open your eyes. Look around
you,” he says insistently.
A hard, needling sensation creeps
beneath my skin. I gasp, like I’ve surfaced from a long dive. My lids open, and
I stare at the cliff, where fifteen students stand as still as zombies,
listening to the sirens’ song.
They will be dragged to the
bottom of the sea.
I turn to Lakyn. “Let’s finish
this.”
SOME BIRTHDAYS COME and the only
thing to change are
numbers. Other birthdays arrive and
nothing is ever the same. When confronted with a massacre, I can’t help
thinking this year will be the latter.
“Protect them,” I shout and then
sprint toward the house. A stitch crushes my side and my lungs squeeze. The
front door looms in the distance and the small divots in the ground almost break
my ankles while I’m running in wedges. Other people mill around the open fire
barrels, staring at me while I rush past. I don’t care nor stop to chat. I
speed through the front door, unhook Mum’s keys and then race to my bedroom for
the spear gun hidden beneath my bed.
White curls droop in front of my
eyes and sweat beads my forehead, rolling down my temples. I slide on my
stomach to reach the black duffel bag, grasp the straps and then slither back
out before I rip open the zipper. Spear gun, extra arrows, Velcro, rope and a
waterproof and shock proof cell phone case. Check, check, check.
Will it be enough? I throw in
Finfolk
Lore & Transformations
and
the Guardian Training Manual
and yank
off my wedges. I put my phone in the new case and lurch to my feet, then race
back outside. My soles sting from pounding the old wooden floors and hard
ground.
“They’re dead weight,” he says,
his arms loosening around a girl he sets away from the cliff’s edge. He’s moved
three people to lawn chairs. “Listen, you should go back inside the house.”
“No, I have a better idea.”
“What have you got . . .” his
gaze drops then sharpens as he studies the bag, “planned?”
I pant and toss him the keys.
“Take Mum’s car,” I say. “It’s the blue Mazda. Go get your gear and the guys from
the hostel. We’ll need everyone we can get for this. I don’t want any of these
people hurt.”
He snatches the keys mid-air, his
grin predatory. “I like the way you think.”
“I’ll shoot the sirens and stop
everyone from going over the edge as best I can while you’re gone.”
He cocks his head. “Shoot to
kill. You might not stop them all. I don’t want you going over the edge. If you
think that’s going to happen—”
“It won’t. Just hurry,” I
whisper, dropping the bag at my feet and raising the spear gun, ready. I can’t
pick up teenagers like Lakyn can, but I can hurt a siren. I can also protect my
friends by standing guard. “I can’t let the sirens kill anyone here.”
Lakyn’s expression is hard and
assessing, but I glare at him. “Go,” I say.
He frowns, but pivots. He is at
the car in seconds. Gravel spits from beneath the tyres as he swerves out of
the driveway and onto the road. The only thing that lights the way are the
streetlights since he’s forgotten to turn on the headlights.
Oh Lord, please don’t let him get
killed.
With duffel bag in hand, I hurry
over to the trees and wrap a length of rope around a sturdy trunk, then tie the
thick ends in a triple reef knot. The Velcro on the back of my cell phone case
sticks to the white square on the rope. Directing the screen toward the water,
all I need is a quick button push, a swipe of apps and then the phone is set to
record.
I look over the cliff—then look
again, staring in shock. Five pale, sinewy sirens, twist like albino snakes in
the water. They are long, slick things moving beneath the waves, the slip of
firm flesh,
then
the sweep of a deadly tail.
Teeth and claws.
I stand there, my legs trembling. All that
separates us is air, one slip,
one
mistake. It’s so
easy to make mistakes. My breath is a harsh rasp, my heartbeat something wild.
Death is a creature. The
monsters’ slick wet hair breaches the surface, revealing close-set black eyes,
chopped-off noses and mouths bursting with barbs.
I stare at them, knowing what I
have to do.
The sirens stop their ascent when
the waves lap their shoulders. They fix dark, knowing eyes on the teenagers
ready to leap, their shirts and dresses flapping in the wind.
Probably feeling free for the first time in their lives.
A greyish cast clings to the
sirens’ hollow shoulder bones, but their rope-like muscles tell me a real
predator wants to play. A sharp screech pierces the air—the one on the right
starts, then the others join in—on a high-pitched call.
I squeeze my eyes shut, but once
they’re open again, I can’t seem to blink and air struggles from my throat. The
throb of my heartbeat escalates and booms in my ears. Knees and arms quivering,
a single-minded focus slips over my brain. I will not allow them to hunt me
forever.
That’s not living. It’s accepting
my death.
I raise the spear gun again and
take aim.
Steady the gun; adjust for the breeze and currents.
Lakyn’s
guidance filters into my actions, and as long as the DJ keeps pumping out loud
music, the other students shouldn’t be affected.
I can’t even ensure the reporters
aren’t filming what I’m doing. If they are, hopefully all they’ll capture is a
crazy girl with a spear gun at a precipice. Surely, my mum has ordered them to
leave.
The sirens and I first met at
this spot at the back of my house, forcing me past the dark green lawn and
sandy soil to the jagged cliff. I’d been unaware at the time, lured by their
seductive song. I’m awake now and familiar with the awaiting nightmare, ready
and able to fight for what I want.
Their undulating music flows
across the waves, rising from the whitewash. The kids step forward in tandem,
and the sirens’ song begins to drown out the DJ. I can’t swallow around the
hard thump in my throat. I aim for the middle siren’s heart and press the
trigger, but they all sink beneath the surface and the arrow slices through a
patch of dark water.
“Hell,” I fume and look up. The
fading sun turns the far edges of the waves to red gold, and the wind picks up
speed, tossing through my hair. A tingle brushes the edge of my consciousness.
My body slides to the left as though bumped. I gasp and look at my feet, but I
haven’t moved.
The dark waves are choppy and
more eerie than ever.
Wetness drips to my mouth and I
swipe my hand against my lips. Red streaks my skin.
Blood.
The
Guardian Training Manual
describes how if the magical energy is
bigger than normal, a human’s blood vessels may be damaged. That means everyone
else’s will be, too.
I lower the spear gun. I have to
get these people inside.
“Listen,” I yell at the first
girl, trying to cut through her trance. “Get away from the cliff. Go back
inside!” With a fistful of her shirt, I shove as hard as I can. A vibration
trembles in my legs, rockets back down to my soles and shakes the ground
beneath my feet. The pulse hits me again and blood coats my tongue. I fall to
my knees, still yelling, but all the students stare straight through me.
I look up across the yard, hoping
to attract someone’s attention.
A person strong enough not to
be caught in the spell.
The reporter is a zombie; her eyes wide and
blank, hands limp by her sides, microphone on the ground. The cameraman’s video
recorder rests at his feet, lens pointing toward the trees. Mum then—I filter
through the hundreds of heads for a certain shade of blonde—and catch her
figure at the window of the house, hands tight on the sill, listening. She’s
under the spell, too.
I sob and a soft howl emits from
the waves, combining with the slap of water against the rocks. A shiver runs up
my spine and I turn back to the sea, looking over the edge of the cliff on all
fours. A gust of salt air sweeps my cheeks, blowing out my hair.
I gulp and a sudden attack of
vertigo makes me sway. A soft keen
rises
from my
throat until every atom inside my body shakes and the tone controls my legs.
“
Nooo
.
. .” I shout.
The spell Lakyn gave me should
have worked and the words flirt at the periphery of my memory, but I can’t
recall them.
There is magic in the books.
I can wield a small amount of
magic in human form. I manic crawl for the duffel bag, drag out the
Guardian
Training
Manual
and flip to an earmarked page.
OFFENSIVE
MAGIC.
Perfect, seeing how it’s the best
form of defence. I speak the words into the sea, one hand holding open the
pages while my head hangs over the edge. My blood drips bright red, falling out
of sight and into the water.
A salty, tangy breeze assaults my
nostrils, and magic streaks through my limbs, catching me in a paroxysm of
black lightning. I hunch, blood smearing my fingers and the pages of the book.
Grass spikes up between the rocks into my palms and I cough up a mouthful of
blood onto the tufts, but words still emerge from my lips. I bark out the last
syllable, and then the ocean roars its obedience. The waves climb higher than I
ever believed possible.
The height—a memory slips into my
brain—I haven’t been to this spot since my accident, but my muscles jerk,
recalling the terror of sweeping water.
I’m in the same place.
A different person.
I choose who I become, no matter what
external things smack me down.
On I read to the next spell, my
voice slipping over the foreign words until my call vibrates at the back of my
throat in sweet tones of seduction. Pain ebbs from my legs, and I manage to
stand, one hand high above my head while the other holds the book. A dark grey
cloud hovers over the ocean, sliding across the sky.
Tingles separate into moments of
time, so clear I can almost grasp them. Power is the shift into another reality,
and this dimension wavers. An electric current travels from my tiptoes to the
top of my head and I hold my palm forward, then push out at the air. The set of
waves immediately collapse in the centre, and then I scoop my hand backward,
careful to do it exactly how I practiced. My fingers are red and sticky with
blood, darker than the dying sun behind the horizon.
Ralph’s soul is out there,
calling to mine.
That’s my music, coming out of my
mouth, my song so broken ever since Dad passed away. When I had no direction,
no faith, but now I put my heart into the enchantment as the watery blue whips,
revealing pale bodies beneath the surface.
I breathe in the scent of salt
and blood. My voice rises with the incantation and power throbs in my muscles.
A sudden wall of water sweeps the sirens back a couple of hundred metres. I
crush my hand into a fist. Waves slam them from all directions, spouts of water
slipping over the top, pressing in upon itself with extreme force.
Mesmerising sounds spin upon my
breath, and I step back from the edge, one footfall after another.
I shouldn’t have been capable of
magic so powerful. Not in human form, at least. But I’m not complaining. The
sirens are strong enough to come back if the pulse that made me bleed is
anything to go by. The students form one group who follow my retreat.
“Ellie.”
I turn to Paul, Owen and Patrick
who stand behind me with orange plugs in their ears.
Clever.
I don’t stop singing but point to the people and then my house.
Take them
inside. Keep them safe.
They nod at my wordless order and
break into the crowd, grabbing some by their shirts, picking others up over
their shoulders and rushing for the house. The camera man and reporter remain.
The hostel guys are going for the youngest first.
Where the hell is Lakyn?
A dark figure leaps from the
cliff farther along the tree line. With a spear gun in his hands, and so many
weapons against his back, the fading light glints silver off the metal. He
slices into the water, disappearing in a second.
My heart swells with hope as he
surfaces and then fights the sirens like a man possessed. The ocean boils with
all the bodies trying to escape his arrows, and I gasp trying to count the
sirens as they reveal themselves. There’s more than thirty. I grab the spear
gun again.
“Ellie!”
Lakyn points to the cliff where
two girls bend their knees, ready to jump off the edge into the water. They
land with hard splats and then disappear into the blue.
“Lakyn,” I scream. “Help them.”
Two more people try to follow,
but I stand between them and the sea, pushing back. My heels hang over the
edge, although I manage to lean into their bodies to stop them from going over
the cliff. But I can’t shoot and hold the girls at the same time, which means
Lakyn is all alone trying to save the two girls who leapt over.
I frantically look down for the
book, find it, drop the gun and grab the open book again, flicking to the stronger
spells. The strange words trip off my tongue. The air jerks, stills and then
swirls me. Magic unwinds in a clear stream, and before I know it, a glittering
energy bathes me in power. Angled toward a group of sirens swimming to Lakyn, I
lift my hand, and a huge wave sweeps them up and then slams them against the
cliff face. They scream as their bodies break in two. Dark liquid seeps into
the sea, but I pick up the wave again and slam it against the rocks.
My entire body twists with the
force of the magic and both girls start trembling, gripping the back of my
dress. “Paul come and get them,” I shout, hoping he hears me.
Lakyn flounders, his head going
beneath the waves, until he rises, but not far enough to get his nose out of
the water. The sea tosses and turns over him. His face doesn’t come of the
water again. I lean over, dropping my hands to my knees.
“Lakyn!”
I scream.
He reaches out a hand, finally
gaining traction with his arms and legs and then swims until advances on the
two girls who leapt over the bluff.