A Strange Hymn
Page 58

I give him an incredulous look.
He decides to dirty talk with me now?
“Just making sure you’re still paying attention,” he says.
From behind us, a side door opens and Malaki, along with two Night soldiers step up to Des, Malaki leaning in to whisper something into Des’s ear.
The Bargainer nods, then leans into me. “Another soldier has disappeared.”
Another one?
“I need to step out briefly to talk to my men. Malaki will be here in my stead until I return.”
He kisses me briefly on the lips, and then he’s gone, retreating back through the side door with the Night soldiers.
I blink at Malaki, who gives me a tight smile before openly glaring at Janus.
Mara excuses her latest subject, leaning back against her throne, her fiery hair cascading down her chest. Today white roses are tangled in those bright locks of hers.
Next to her, the Green Man’s gaze flicks to me, his gaze intense.
Gah, that fairy is unnerving.
The double doors at the far end of the room open, and a manacled woman is brought in. Her arms are exposed, and I catch sight of a branded leaf peeking out from beneath her shackles.
Human.
Her eyes are swollen, but her face is dry and her chin is defiantly lifted. All eyes watch her as she’s led down the aisle, her footsteps and those of her guards echoing throughout the room.
Up until now, the fairies who’ve had an audience with the queen have been nobles squabbling over petty matters. This, however, I can already tell will be different.
When she comes to the edge of the dais, her fae guards force her to her knees.
“What are her crimes?” Mara asks lazily.
“She was caught fornicating with a fairy,” one of the guards reports.
Wait, seriously?
Homegirl is in shackles because she boned a dude with wings?
“Witnesses?” Mara asks, bored.
“Two,” the guard says.
The two witnesses are brought forward, both human judging from their rounded ears. Each, in turn, attests to the fact that they caught the servant out on the palace grounds playing hide the salami with a soldier.
In the middle of the second testimony, the human girl begins to silently sob.
I shift on my feet. This whole situation feels wrong to me. This woman is on trial because she did exactly what Des and I have been doing.
Next to me, Malaki clears his throat uncomfortably.
He, too, is guilty of what this woman’s on trial for.
“Do you have any words to say in your defense?” Mara asks the human woman once the witnesses leave.
“Please,” she says, her voice roughened with tears, “he grabbed me. I tried to push him away, but he overpowered me …”
Oh God.
My blood runs cold. I can feel my nausea rise, my stomach twisting sickly at the woman’s words.
This doesn’t sound like some illicit tryst in the woods. This sounds like rape. And now this woman is getting punished for it.
“Where is this man?” Mara asks.
The bone-deep sickness that consumed me a moment ago is transforming into something hot and uncomfortable.
Do something.
“He’s on his way,” the guard says.
“Very well.” Mara rearranges her skirts. “Give the slave twenty lashings, and if she’s conceived, abort the offspring.”
“No.”
I don’t realize I’ve spoken until all the occupants of the throne room are staring at me.
Shit, alright, I’m doing this.
“I beg your pardon?” Mara looks half skeptical, half amused.
“No one is hurting this woman,” I say, stepping forward.
I can feel my power building beneath my skin. My body doesn’t illuminate, but I can feel my magic right there. I didn’t go through hell just to watch something like this happen all over again to another woman.
Mara’s eyes flick to Malaki. “General,” she says, “handle your king’s mate.”
My hands fist, the siren stirring restlessly. She’s not even addressing me, like I’m beneath her notice.
The room’s attention swivels from me to Malaki.
He folds his arms across his chest. “No.”
A ripple of whispers rise from the crowd.
My gaze finds Malaki’s, and I find it hard to breathe. Des’s oldest friend is putting himself on the line for me.
Mara raises an eyebrow. Turning from both of us, she announces to her men, “Proceed with the punishment as planned. Bring the headsman out.”
A fairy peels away from the wings of the room, approaching the dais with a whip in hand.
That sick sensation rises in me all over again.
“Mara, you cannot do this,” I say.
Another wave of whispers spreads through the room, even as the Flora Queen ignores me.
The headsman approaches the girl, centering himself behind her. Someone else brings in a curved bench of sorts, and the guards on either side of the servant now force her body to bow over the bench, locking her cuffs at the base of it so she’s completely restrained, her back bared to the headsman and the crowd beyond him. I can hear her sobs and see her back shaking.
The headsman unravels the whip, and oh God, oh God, this cannot be real.
The metal tip of the whip glints in the room, and it’s that one detail that forces me into action.
I’m moving, the fierce need to protect this woman singing through me. Now my skin begins to glow, and I can hear the dark, whispered thoughts of my siren.
Spill their blood, make them pay. Protect the girl.
I push my body between the human woman’s and the headsman’s.
“Touch her and you’ll regret it,” I say, my voice just as savage as it is melodic.
If I didn’t have the room’s attention before, I certainly had it now.
“For the sake of the Undying Gods, Callypso,” Mara says, finally addressing me, “remove yourself.”
“No.”
Malaki takes a step forward, presumably to join me.
Mara’s hand snaps up to stop him. “Ah-ah,” she says. As she speaks, the vines on the wall behind Malaki slither up and around him, shackling him in place. It’s the first real sign that I’ve pissed off the Flora Queen. “If Callypso is to be a ruler one day,” Mara says, her gaze returning to me, “then she can fight her own battles. Can’t you, enchantress?”
Both Mara and the Green Man watch me with fevered expressions, lapping up my anger, waiting for me to react.
I stare at her, regretful that I didn’t rip out her throat when I had a chance.
“Anyone who hurts this woman will have to go through me,” I say to the room.
Mara grins, the expression malevolent. “So be it.” She flicks her wrist. “Headsman, carry out the punishment.”
Behind me, the headsman shifts nervously. I hear the slick sound of the whip unraveling, and the startled gasps of the audience.
Smoldering anger burns low in my belly as I drop to my knees, my hands going to the woman’s shackles. She stares at me with wide, red-rimmed eyes as I work at the locks.
Fuck, I need a key.
The headsman takes position behind me, giving a few practice cracks of the whip.
I quake when I realize that I’m not going to be able to release this woman in time. These chains need a key, and the key is in the pockets of soldiers too far away and too unwilling to help. My only ally, Malaki, is being restrained. I’m on my own, and if I leave this woman, she will be whipped.
There’s fire in my soul and poison in my veins.