Lydia the Siren's Arc

Chapter 9 of 37

Lydia reached her cavern by dusk. The mud on her skin cracked and fell away as she walked. Inside, she washed in the pond, brushed the dull dye from her hair, and let the auburn shine again. She painted the burgundy back over her eyes. She was herself once more, and now she knew his face and his road. Gregorio Stannison would pass her stone within a day. She had one song left, saved for him alone. She stood at the mouth of her stone passage, where the walls carried sound for miles. She breathed in. Then she sang. The melody rose and curled down the road like a ribbon of light and note. It was not a lure to trap prey. It was the tune she had built to match his ocarina, the one she heard him play before he killed the dragon. She poured her want into it. She sang for the man, not the meal. The road answered. Boots on stone. Slow at first, then steady, drawn nearer with each verse. Metal caught the last light. A tall shape came through the passage, silver-gray armor over sharp features, dark hair swept back. Gregorio. His eyes were soft and far away, held by the song. He walked to her like a man in a dream. Lydia's heart pounded. She had waited a year for this. She stepped close and lifted her chin. His breath touched her cheek. She reached for his face, ready to seal him to her with a kiss, to make the spell whole. Her lips were a breath from his when his hand shot up and locked around her throat. The dream broke in his eyes. They went hard and clear. He drove her back against the stone wall and pinned her there, forearm crushing her windpipe. His other hand drew the sword. The blade rang free and pressed flat under her jaw. "I've killed things with prettier songs," he said. Lydia clawed at his wrist. Her human shape strained. "You wanted quiet," she rasped. "I can give you quiet." "I know a siren's stone when I hear one." His voice stayed flat. He pressed the edge closer. "Every knight does. I came to end it." She went cold. He had not fallen for the song at all. He had followed it to find her and cut her down. He had known from the first note. Her strength was fading under his arm. In moments she would have to choose: die as a woman, or break into her true form and lose forever the chance to win him gently. The kiss had failed. The lure had failed. He held her life against the rock, and he meant to take it. Lydia stopped clawing. She looked up into his flat eyes and made her choice.