Iris Blackwell's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Iris Blackwell had spent her whole life not being seen, and now a king had sent for her by name. She stood in his study, deep inside the drowned stronghold of jagged rock. The mark on her hip pulsed under her dress. It was a knot of black lines, three generations old, a binding curse no Blackwell woman had ever escaped. She had come here to break it. She had no idea how. She did not even know how it began. Rath stood beside her, dirty blonde hair still wet from the water. He was the siren who had given her his pearl. That gift had bound their lives together. Now the same magic that let her breathe down here tied her fate to his. If the curse killed her, she feared it might take him too. He held her hand and did not let go. "Show me," Maris said. He was tall, with black hair and short green eyes. Rath's father. The regent who had held this throne for eighteen years. He spoke like a man who wasted nothing. Iris hesitated, then pulled the cloth aside and showed the mark. Maris leaned close. His scarred arm rested on the desk. He studied the black lines for a long moment. Iris waited to be told it was hopeless. "I have seen these symbols," Maris said. Iris's breath caught. "Where?" "Carved in the lower arch. The old work. Malachar's binding magic ran on the same marks." He straightened. "Your curse was not made by human hands. A siren bound your line." "A siren." Iris looked at Rath. His face had gone still. "Then it can be unmade." "Every binding has a first knot," Maris said. "Find the one who tied it. Or find what they tied it to." "They're dead. Three generations back." "Sirens live long." Maris said it plainly, the way he said everything. "The council of seven is old. If one of them cast it, they will know the words to undo it." It was more hope than Iris had held in her life. She had searched alone for years, seen by no one, finding nothing. Now she had a door. But her hand trembled in Rath's. "The council waits above," Maris said. "They have waited for you and my son to take the throne." Rath's jaw tightened. He had refused that throne once. Iris understood the cost now. To ask the seven for help, they had to face the seven directly. And one of those crowned sirens might be the very one who had cursed her blood. Maris opened the door. Cold water pressed in from the dark hall. "They know you are here," he said. "They can feel your bond. Whoever bound your family will feel it too." Iris pressed a hand to her hip. The mark burned hotter than before. She was no longer hidden. She had a name now, a face, a bond that every siren in the kingdom could sense. And somewhere above her, the one who had cursed her was already waiting.