Chapter 3

Three nights later, Mitchell went into his son's bedroom to find Lenalia fast asleep in the large chair by the window. She'd been reading a history book from the library in the Lord Mayor's house, and it was resting on the floor near her fingertips. The man smiled and checked his son for any signs of distress before quietly walking over to the girl. A hand on her shoulder made her wake with a start.

“Shh, Lenalia, it's just me. Come, child, we have things to discuss.” He picked up the book and set it on the windowsill before making his way out of the room, the groggy woman following him.

She shut the door behind her and sighed. “Sorry, Mitchell, I must've nodded off a few hours ago.”

“I understand completely. Taking care of Samuel is hard work, especially when you're not using your magic.” He turned to face the woman and asked, “Why don't you? It would be easier, my son would heal faster, and--”

“And Evana would either kill me or kill Samuel. Her magic is wrapped around him, and I don't know what would happen if mine interfered.” She saw the worry in the man's features. “Don't fret, sir, the magic can only work on an existing illness. Once your son is well, it will release him.”

Lenalia sounded more mature than her years, Mitchell realized. “If I may ask another question, I'd like to know how you managed.”

“Managed what?”

“It was my understanding that half-bloods were culled shortly after their birth. Why were you saved?”

Lenalia crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. “Evana left me at the palace steps of her own volition. Father told me that she wanted him to realize that if the sirens and merfolk joined together, the result would be disastrous.” She frowned. “I was four weeks old when I destroyed a wing of the palace. The gods were smiling on us that day, thankfully, and no one was hurt.”

Mitchell had heard stories about certain powers being volatile and difficult to control, and nodded. “What happened to you? Did they teach you how to control your magic?”

The woman shook her head. “None of the tutors wanted to be close to me. Father had me locked in my rooms to prevent any more incidents, but his wife pitied me and visited me every day to teach me how to sew or weave. When she discovered that I could be patient, she taught me how to channel my powers into healing spells and potions. I lost control sometimes, and Father was still reluctant to let me out, so his son, Kanshil, got the keys and let me out one night.”

Mitchell saw the love in her eyes and smiled. “Did you destroy anything?”

“No. We toured the palace and the city, but it was late at night, so no one was around. We decided that if Father never found out about the excursions, we could go outside every night.” Lenalia smiled. Her brother was the first mer to treat her like she was normal. “Father was waiting at the palace gates a few weeks later, and we got in a lot of trouble. He later said that if I hadn't managed to destroy something by then, I deserved to be treated like one of the family. Ever since then, I was accepted. When I was twelve, I started training to get in the mer armies, and when I was sixteen, became the general.”

“Isn't that a little young to be fighting in a war?” Mitchell asked. He knew merwomen were allowed to fight, and thought it was a good idea. His late wife had taught him that women were deadly when provoked.

“I wasn't the youngest general. General Torrus, now Council Member Torrus, took that position when he was fourteen. All of the ranking officers had been killed in a siren attack, and he was the highest ranking soldier left.” She shrugged. “He retired once the treaty was made between the two kingdoms.”

The man nodded, and crooked his arm for Lenalia to take. She did, and they walked down the hall to Mitchell's study. “If you don't mind, would you indulge my curiosity? Verilan and I never discussed the sirens. It was a bit of a sore subject for him.”

“It would be. What would you like to know?” Lenalia, despite being raised by merfolk, knew about sirens from Torrus and Kanshil, both of whom had wanted her to have an unprejudiced perspective of them.

The man had been expecting the woman's hand to stiffen on his arm, as it usually did if he asked a question she was uncomfortable with. “Do sirens actually sing to ensnare sailors?”

The conversation paused as Mitchell opened the lock to his large study. It was a pleasant room, filled with bookcases and paintings. The family portrait hung over the currently unlit fireplace across from the oak desk. It showed Samuel and Jonathan in the front, sitting on wooden chairs draped with velvet. Behind them was Mitchell, who held hands with a beautiful and obviously pregnant woman with vibrant red hair. Lenalia liked that portrait—it showed the happiness in everyone's lives. She turned her attention back to the man at her side.

“Yes, but that's only a defense mechanism. If ships sail too close to Evana's palace, the siren guards will enthrall the sailors and cause their ships to crash into the coral nearby. Other sirens, the renegades who don't obey the laws, will do so just for fun.” Lenalia had been forced to investigate shipwrecks for a year of her training, and had learned about the renegades and the hatred all sirens had for humans.

“They have laws?”

“Every civilization has laws, Mitchell. They have to have them to keep some semblance of order during a war.” She sat down in the leather chair across the desk from Mitchell's larger chair. “They may not be the same as mer or human laws, but they do exist.”

“Of course. Are you able to enthrall humans?” The man wasn't accusing her of anything, but he wanted to be certain just in case.

Lenalia laughed. “I can heal, but that's it. I fight using my own two hands or my weapons, but the magic in my weapons is sealed within them, and not usable by me. I would be able to use my siren powers to snare human males—it won't work on females—but I can't sing.”

Mitchell did a double take. “What?”

“I can't sing. At all. It sounds like something stepped on a seal if I try. Not exactly something a man would fall in love with.” She couldn't help but smile whenever her singing voice was mentioned.

“I suppose that's for the best, then.” Mitchell knew it was wrong for him to feel very relieved that the woman couldn't sing, but he did.




“Lord Mayor, who is she?”

“Where did she come from?”

“Did she save Sam?”

Mitchell groaned as he strolled through his front gardens and was bombarded by the questions from the townsfolk. They wanted to know about the strange woman that had arrived four days ago to save one of his beloved sons. The women were especially curious to hear who she was and where she was from, since she showed no shame in front of the men.

“My dear people, one at a time, if you please! Geoffrey, her name is Lenalia, and she is a well-trained doctor. Amanda, please don't shriek like that, you know it hurts your throat. She's from Rome, and has traveled a long way.” Both he and Lenalia had pondered over how to explain her unusual name and cover her tracks. “She went overland through France, then was taking a ship to our island, but the ship she was sailing on was caught in the same storm as the Leaf. It sank, and the townsfolk in Pearl Cove helped her make it the rest of the way here.”

“But, Lord Wash, why here?” A child close to the fence asked.

“I'd written to other Lords across the island about finding a doctor for the Leaf, and one of her friends passed the word on to her. He knew she was looking to move to a new town, and she trusted his word. Yes, Matthew, she did save Sam.” Mitchell leaned over and picked a bright yellow rose and handed it to one of the young girls standing with their mother. The townsfolk seemed satisfied and started meandering away from his fence.

When he turned to head back down the path, Jonathan was standing in the way. His face was creased with controlled anger, and his green eyes were stormy. Mitchell looked at his son before going around him. John followed his father until they were at the gate between the front and back gardens.

“Father, she's completely new to this town, we know practically nothing about her, and here she is, tending to Sam and living in our home!” John gestured angrily at the house.

“She saved your brother, John. Why don't you do as she suggested and swallow your pride? Show some gratitude towards her, son. Think about how you would have reacted if she had been here to save your mother and sibling!”

The rage in his son's eyes settled abruptly. He looked away from his father's eyes and rubbed his face before walking away. He paused a moment and said over his shoulder, “That was low, even for you.”

Mitchell watched his son walk away and shook his head. He and John had never been friends, instead using their ship as a buffer between them. They operated like acquaintances with a shared interest than anything else.

“It's a bad thing, my lord, when you can't let your son voice his opinions without hitting him below the belt.” The voice drifting down from one of the windows belonged to Lenalia.

The man smiled up at her. “My dear girl, would you have gone about it differently?”

The woman grinned slyly. “Yes, I would have tossed him into the roses and let him fight his way out. Much more entertaining and far less stressful for me.”

Mitchell laughed. “I'll let you do that next time, then. How's Sam?”




Under the calm surface of the ocean, a storm was brewing, fueled by Evana's rage. She'd been surprised by her daughter's perception once again, and was very displeased with the events unfolding around her. The dark-haired siren growled as she swam around her palace, trying to find a new way to deal with the corrupted spawn she'd birthed.

“M-Majesty, please. I--” The siren messenger that spoke trembled enough that Evana could feel the ripples. He regained his control and straightened up slightly. “Majesty, I have a message from the border.”

The queen turned to glare at the siren before resting on her throne. “I'm waiting, fool.”

The messenger's eyes darted around nervously. “The general is dead, as are half of his squad. The rest are badly wounded. The Sergeant Vika seeks your guidance.”

Just what Evana needed at that moment: a new problem. She sighed and put a hand on her head. “She's now General Vika, messenger. Tell her to regroup if she can and that I'll send reinforcements.” She struggled to keep her voice calm. It wouldn't do to frighten the messenger into a dead faint. He bowed deeply and fled while he could, followed by Evana's scream of fury.

“Blast them all!” She turned towards the pillars framing her throne and contemplated destroying them. Instead, she sank wearily to the seat and rubbed her face. Killing Lenalia would have to wait. Evana had work to do.