Rhapsodic Page 91


“Four,” she says. “I’ve lost movement in my arms and legs. He takes out those first. Doesn’t want his women to be difficult.”

“That’s what that kiss was?” I say, surprised. That, after all, was the only time Karnon forced his magic on me. “A way to immobilize us?” I wiggle my fingers and toes as I speak. I haven’t lost any use of my limbs.

“Amongst other things,” she says darkly.

A shiver races down my spine. “What does that mean?” I ask.

She pauses. “Tell me you don’t feel it—that sickness making itself at home in your bones.”

I did when I woke, but after puking my guts up, the sensation went away. Now I just feel weak. Incredibly weak.

“And then of course, there’s the whole matter of us getting pregnant,” she adds. “You know about that?”

“I do. Sorry to ruin the surprise,” I say. “I’m still holding out hope that immaculate conception is involved in that whole process,” I add, not really joking.

“Immaculate conception?” Aetherial repeats, amused. “Now that would be something. All of us prisoners just magically getting knocked up.” She chuckles to herself. “I like you, human,” she says.

“I’m a siren.” I’m not sure why I make the clarification. Perhaps so that I don’t seem quite so helpless amongst all these strong warriors.

“A siren?” She whistles. “And here I was hoping Karnon wouldn’t touch you—you being human and all that. No offense,” she adds. “I’ve dallied with plenty of human women in my time, but it’s a thing for some fae.”

I remember Karnon’s earlier words. “So I’ve heard.”

We lapse into silence for a bit, both of us likely musing on our fate.

“What kingdom are you from?” I finally ask.

“Day.” She exhales. “Royal guard turned prisoner. That’s irony for you.”

It all stings. Hearing her story, knowing her fate, knowing mine.

“So tell me,” she continues, “how does a human come to be trapped in this hellhole with the rest of us?”

“I have unusually bad luck,” I quip, even as I grimace down at my hands.

I hear her gruff laughter. “Apparently that kind of thing is contagious around here.”

Another small smile stretches across my face. Who would’ve thought I’d become fast friends with a fae warrior while imprisoned?

Absently, I watch the guards patrol the rows of cells across from me. Most have some obvious animalistic feature, like whiskers, or tails, or hooves. But then there are some who walk these halls that don’t have these obvious characteristics.

Could they be fae from another kingdom? Humans?

My heart pounds at that last possibility.

“Hey, Aetherial, can you do me a favor?” I ask, my eyes studying a uniformed cook delivering tray after tray of prisoner meals. He looks fully human from here, but I’m so far away it’s hard to tell.

“What would you like, siren?”

I watch the uniformed man as he moves down a cell. “Can you tell a human from a fae on sight?” I ask.

“Almost always,” she says. “Why?”

I can’t help the spike of excitement I feel. “Have you seen any humans here since you were taken?”

“Hmmm, not that I remember. I wasn’t looking for them though.”

I continue to stare at the cook as he moves down the cell block. For the life of me I can’t tell what he is.

“If you see any,” I say distractedly, “will you let me know?”

If I can get a human to bend to my will … the possibilities are endless.

I’m tempted to try out my powers right now, but a healthy dose of fear keeps me quiet. I’m afraid that if I glamour one of these guys prematurely and it doesn’t work, the guards will stop me from getting another opportunity.

“My view is pretty limited at the moment, but yeah, I’ll let you know.” It’s silent for a beat. “Is it true then, what they say about a siren’s voice?”

My mouth forms a grim line. “It’s true.”

“Your idea will probably get you killed.”

I guffaw. “You prefer the alternative?”

I hear Aetherial’s husky laughter. “I was right about you. Stupid and courageous.”

Neither of us speak again until a series of guards approach a cell across the way, one of them carrying two large poles over his shoulder. At the back of the cell, a fae woman with flame red hair lies limp on her pallet.

The bars to her cell slide back, the metal scraping along its tracks.

The guards file inside the cell, and the guard carrying the poles snaps them open. That’s when I realize I’m not staring at poles, per se, but a crude gurney. A stained wisp of cloth is stretched between the two shafts.

They set the gurney on the ground, then grab the woman, situating her body on the flimsy material.

Then, as one, the two prison guards lift the gurney and cart her out. I watch them until they’re out of range.

“They remove the lifeless ones,” Aetherial says from the cell over, clearly watching alongside me.

They’re paralyzing the women.

“Stay here long enough,” Aetherial continues, “it’ll happen to you too.”

I frown, even though she can’t see it.

All those sleeping women in Des’s kingdom, all the paralyzed ones here … it can’t be a coincidence.

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