Chapter 20

Twenty

Thoughts spun in my head. Images that struggled to make sense to me were at the center of my mind, and this annoying voice whispered in my ear that it was over, that I was already dead. We all were.

Strangely I wasn't afraid, even if a part of me believed it. All those sirens, and Grey and Valentine—and even me!— but Syra was still stronger than all of us combined. She'd still killed another siren, her sister Mea, while we were all attacking her at the same time.

Too powerful, just like we knew she would be. Far too powerful for all of us. For the whole world.

Yet somehow I was still alive.

I knew it when that whisper no longer reached my ears and instead a white noise went on somewhere around me—or was it inside ? No idea, but it poked at my mind, urging me to wake up, to start focusing on my senses, to try to open my eyes and see what was around me.

I did.

No more of that blinding white light anywhere that I could see, only the night sky and the moon, barely half, hiding behind clouds as if she were afraid of what went on down here, too. As if she didn't want to watch what happened next.

Every person who'd been under the dome with Syra was now on the ground—and her, too. I pushed myself to sit up as my ears picked up more and more sound, but nothing else moved here except for Storm.

Storm, who'd been thrown against the trees behind the back leg of the Great White, and even though I couldn't see him, I heard his growls and groans as he tried to stand.

" Grey," I whispered, eyes searching the bodies sprawled all around me, the four remaining sirens, and Shadow right next to Valentine, who was on his back, motionless, eyes closed, and chest torn.

And then Grey, who lay on his side behind me, five feet away, half his body resting against the edge of the ruined fountain that still spilled water from everywhere, his wings gone.

I immediately began to drag myself toward him. Storm would be on his feet any second now, and he could grab us and fly us away. We'd leave the sirens here on this Isle, and hopefully they ruined it completely— and each other. Hopefully they sank underwater and remained there, never to be heard of or seen again.

"Grey, wake up," I said when I reached him, my own body in shock, limbs numb, yet I somehow managed to grab him by the arm and push him on his back.

God, he was a mess. So many cuts oozing blood on his chest and neck and face, but he had to be okay. He had to be alive—he was just unconscious.

My magic raged.

"Grey, open your eyes. C'mon, wake up!" I said, and I barely whispered it, both because my voice didn't work properly, and because I was afraid someone might hear. I was afraid Syra might hear and wake up—she was on the other side, near the tree line behind which Storm was finally rising to his feet, and she was still on the ground.

So, I focused on getting myself to my knees, then grabbing Grey and pulling him up. I knew he was way too big for me to carry, but I'd just give him some blood and then he'd wake up and Storm would be in the sky, waiting, and then he'd take us away.

Drink, drink, drink, I urged him, pressing my wrist where Valentine had bitten me to Grey's lips because no matter how many times I tried to pull him up, I failed. I was too weak to even sit him against the ruins of that fountain, and there simply wasn't enough time to try harder or to wait for my strength to come back to me. So, I begged him to take my blood, pried his lips open the same way I'd done with Valentine, and when that didn't work, I moved on to Plan B—get Storm to come grab Grey and take us out.

Grey didn't need to be conscious at all, and neither did Valentine. Storm could carry all of us out, just until we reached another Isle. Just until we were away from the sirens.

So, I stood up and I turned to the trees, and?—

Syra was right in front of me, bloody and messy and eyes red with rage, and her hand wrapped around my neck tightly.

I couldn't scream. I couldn't move at all for a good long second, too shocked, too caught up in disbelief because she'd been on the ground just a minute ago, hadn't she? I'd seen her! She'd been there!

Yet she was here now, and ice-cold magic slipped from her hand where it connected with the skin around my neck. It created a layer all around me, spreading so fast you'd think it was fire.

" No," I choked out because I couldn't die now. Grey still needed me. He was still unconscious.

"Hush, you brat," Syra spit, and she squeezed harder. My hands closed around her forearm, but I knew it was in vain. "It's over now, it's all over."

No, no, no, no —I had so much to say but the words wouldn't leave my lips. My body was at her service now, and that ice that she covered me with was consuming me little by little.

But she couldn't kill me, could she? She'd said it herself—she'd made an oath to Hansil, and she couldn't kill me because I was pregnant. Hansil's descendant was in my womb, and she couldn't kill me !

"It was never supposed to be like this," Syra whispered, and blood came out of her mouth, spilling down her chin.

My God, the way she looked. What a fucking nightmare…

I tried to shake my head, tried to tell her that it didn't have to be like this, that she could choose not to do this. She could choose to walk away and live her life in peace.

But…

"The stars have said it," she said, and my stomach twisted a million times. "I know it in my heart. I?—"

She screamed.

I had never before heard a more heart-wrenching, gut-turning scream in my life, and even Storm hadn't scared me as much when he'd roared at me in that cave. Syra screamed at the top of her lungs, and her eyes never blinked and never left mine, and her magic never let go of me, either. She held onto my neck and she looked so tortured, in so much pain that I almost had the instinct to help her, before I even realized what was going on, why she was screaming.

The sirens.

Four sisters remained—Raxae, Andya, Oreinne and Fessa. They were all on the ground behind her, naked, bleeding, wounded. Raxae and Fessa had their hands around Syra's ankles, and Andya and Oreinne were behind them, holding onto their legs.

Connected. All five of them were connected.

Syra stopped screaming.

More blood came out of her as her skin began to lighten up from the inside again. Now the sisters started screaming, and even though I had no idea what the hell was going on, in those moments, I still had hope.

Syra was squeezing my neck, but not enough that I couldn't breathe. Her magic was already inside me, and it was cold as fuck, but it wasn't hurting me. In fact, it just felt like a layer of very cold fabric wrapped around my skin, and she looked so, so bad.

Then her eyes started to bleed, too.

I'd take that image of her to my grave.

The sisters screamed louder. Syra came closer and closer until our noses almost touched, and I didn't dare move or breath or blink my eyes.

"It is complete now, human. Take…take…" Syra whispered, and more blood spilled out of her, dripping down her chin as her body vibrated. "…care of him. Don't…" she choked, and I hardly heard her over those screams. " Don't b - b-be…good. "

I exploded.

Or rather—something inside me exploded like fireworks, melting the ice that was around me, igniting a brand-new fire deep in my bones, one that couldn't be put out. My body was paralyzed and my eyes remained open, so I saw Syra's face still, right until the moment it turned to ashes. I saw her eyes, and in my mind, I'd see them forever, see her hopelessness, her surrender.

I'd see her pain.

My legs let go and I fell to my knees in front of piles of ashes that used to be her , with the four siren sisters still on the ground, crying, shaking, bleeding as they held onto one another.

Nothing on my mind but Syra and that heat that was taking place inside me, merging with me, making my body its home. The only reason I wasn't lying on those ashes yet was because I was paralyzed, too paralyzed to fall.

Over.

It was over. Syra was dead. Syra was gone, and I'd seen it with my own eyes. I still couldn't believe it—because how could it be ?!—but I'd seen her surrendering. I'd seen her turning into ashes.

She didn't hurt me, said a voice in my head.

And the sisters were no longer wailing.

She didn't hurt me when she could have , that same voice insisted.

They were dragging themselves closer to one another, all connected until they lay in a circle, eyes closed and naked bodies shaking still, and their skin began to glow.

Magic in the air.

It rose like dust, and it wasn't warm nor cool—just a steady energy that buzzed so loudly I could hear it. The sirens were letting it out, and they were healing as they held onto each other, then began to moan as their bodies rearranged themselves, all broken bones mending and the tears on their skin closing.

She didn't hurt me.

Syra didn't hurt me.

And she was gone, even when the stars had foreseen the end. She was gone, and even more warmth, more magic came at me from behind—this time from the Great White. The dragon who had been made to guard Syra's body, who'd been standing behind the building, still as the stone. The dragon who was slowly turning to ashes and falling all around the castle, just like Syra.

Her words were in my ears still. What was complete? What the hell had she done to me?!

Something's wrong.

"No."

The word slipped from me involuntarily. I was so goddamn sick of feeling like something was wrong— always something, Fall! There was always something to fire up my instincts, and I was sick of it because nothing was.

Nothing was wrong anymore—Syra was gone, reduced to piles of ashes in front of me, and Grey was behind me.

Grey was right there, and I was going to get to him right now because it was over. Syra was dead—and who cared why she hadn't hurt me, or why she talked about the stars, or why she told me to not be good?

I don't care, I don't care, I don't care ? —

"Grey." I grabbed his face in my hands. "Grey, open your eyes. Come on, we gotta go. We gotta get out of here. Grey?—"

Storm landed right behind him, shaking the ground, and when he roared and spit fire at the sky, it felt like the whole world heard it.

Grey finally opened his eyes.

I could have screamed. If I'd had a second, and if these instincts inside me weren't making me want to throw up, I'd have taken a moment to sit down and hug him and kiss him and beg him to drink my blood.

As it was, I didn't allow myself to even smile or be glad that he could see me. I just rose to my feet and pulled at his arm with all my strength and said, "We have to go. Now. "

Grey finally made it up, looking around, disoriented, and Storm spit fire at the sky once more. I turned to the sirens, expecting them to be on the ground still, shaking and moaning and exchanging their magic, however the fuck that worked, but they were all standing now, too.

And so was Valentine.

He was limping his way toward me, eyes on my face, my body, searching for wounds, when he himself was bleeding from all over. Shadow still couldn't coordinate his wings properly, so he was jumping toward us, hopping like a rabbit.

"We're okay," I kept whispering. "We're okay. We're just fine." Wounded and exhausted and terrified, but we would survive and heal and rest, and someday even forget. It was all possible as long as we were alive.

"What happened?" Grey whispered, putting his arm over my shoulders, looking from the sisters and to Valentine, who was by my other side already.

"Syra, she…she…" My hands moved to my neck instinctively, and I had no idea what to say, how to tell them what Syra had done. She grabbed me by the neck and she put her magic on me, which was cold but didn't hurt, and then she told me that it was complete, that it was all over, and to not be good ?

Valentine and Grey looked at me intently and waited, their unblinking eyes on my face only adding to this incredible pressure, but?—

"She's gone."

The three of us turned to the middle of that round plaque and the four siren sisters standing tall, hands linked, naked and covered in dirt and dry blood.

"She's dead?" Valentine asked, and he was looking at the ground now, at those small piles of grey ashes that had once been Syra.

Gone.

I'd seen it happen with my own eyes, and my own thoughts were battling me about it— it can't be, they insisted. This was Syra. The most powerful being in the world. The siren who ruined an entire continent.

All that power…it just wasn't possible. Where was all that power? She could have killed them all. Should have. There was a reason why she'd been kept dormant for five hundred years.

"She is. We killed her," said the sirens all together, speaking as one. I could hardly tell where one's voice ended and the others began. They sounded so, so strange…

"Together, we used our magic to corrupt hers. Together, we ended her," they continued, and they were smiling, and they looked so, so relieved…

"We are free, at last." And they raised their eyes to the sky.

Something's wrong, something's wrong, something's wrong ? —

"Fall, look at me."

Grey had his arms around my waist, and I hadn't even noticed how I was leaning against his chest. Had I been about to collapse just now?

I looked up at his face, at those wide dark-grey eyes, the concern in them crystal clear. S omething's wrong, Grey! Yet I couldn't say the words out loud because I didn't want to. I didn't want to believe them.

"Are you sure?" Valentine said, calling my attention back to him, but he was talking to the sirens.

The sirens who were still smiling like that, and their eyes were sparkling, all those beautiful colors. They looked so young so suddenly. So radiant.

"Yes, we are," said Andya, lowering her head for a moment as her sisters continued to look at the sky. "Syra is gone now. She's gone forever."

"Fall," Grey whispered in my ear, and I realized that I was shaking my head.

Valentine stepped in front of us, and Shadow finally was able to fly high enough to reach his shoulder. "She's dead," he told us, lips curling up into a smile—until he saw my face. "What's wrong?"

"Talk to me, baby," Grey whispered, but how in the world could I tell them what I didn't know? "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," I said, and I was. I really felt fine. "I just want to go home, okay? Let's just leave this Isle. Let's go home." We could talk in the Whispering Woods. We could figure it all out then.

"Let's go," they both said at the same time, and they exchanged a quick look.

Then Valentine turned toward the trees, ready to get the hell out, and Storm took over the sky, too, spreading his wings, moving higher and higher with a roar.

"Won't you stay a while to celebrate?" the siren sisters said as they smiled sneakily at us. "After all, Ennaris is ours again. Truly ours."

"It is indeed," said Fessa.

"And it is a great cause for celebration." Andya.

"And we should eat and drink and dance to our heart's desire." Fessa again.

"Oh, what a joyous night. Syra is gone— what a joyous night !" Oreinne, with tears glistening in her eyes. Happy tears.

"Enjoy your celebrations," Grey said, his wings spreading from his back, and he moved to my side to take me in his arms. "We're leaving."

"But why?!" said Fessa. "Please, oh, please stay! Syra is gone. We won't hurt you!"

"Of course not—you helped a great deal," said Oreinne.

They all talked at the same time, all three of them while Raxae still had her eyes closed and her head back.

Stay! We can't let you go!

Have some wine with us. Dance with us!

Let this night be forever in our memories as a good night.

A great night!

The best night—the night that Syra died…

"No."

Grey had me in his arms, and Valentine was about ready to start running, and Storm was up there, waiting for us to join him in the air—and then we all stopped and turned to Raxae.

My heart skipped a long beat.

Raxae slowly lowered her head. Her eyes were open, dark and glistening.

"She's still here," she whispered, and every hair on my body stood at attention.

"Impossible," her sisters told her, and Fessa came closer, kneeled on the ground, grabbed a fistful of those grey ashes and let it slide between her fingers.

"Look—her remains. This is all that's left of Syra."

"No, no, no," Raxae said, shaking her head. "She's not gone. She's still here."

"She—" they all started at the same time, but Raxae wouldn't hear it.

"Feel her, sisters! Feel her!"

"Grey," I whispered, wrapping my arms around his neck. "We need to go."

Grey didn't hesitate.

He beat his wings once and took us up in the air, and the sisters, who'd all closed their eyes again, drew in air like they needed it to survive. Their hands were around their necks and their eyes opened wide once more.

Their eyes on me.

Then Fessa said, "She's here."

And all the sirens raised their hands toward us at the same time.