Page 2 of Leviathan's Song
We were opposites in both appearance and attitude. Sidney was a magpie-shifter and everything you might imagine a corvid’s personality to be: coarse, gregarious, and fun. She was built like a Nordic warrior, generally flippant, and self-assured. I was absolutely none of those things. But once she’d seen me accidentally destroy half a building in college, well, she’d decided immediately that I was her new friend, and we’d become just that.
Because we both shared an interest in magical items—though hers ran more to knives and weaponry—she’d come up with the idea to open a shop together in one of the less expensive districts in Seattle. We both procured supplies and items of interest, but Sidney spent most of her time dealing with customers and bookkeeping. That left me free to tinker and build, supplying our shop with finished items. This morning she had an appointment with a dealer and had left me to cover the shop by myself.
“Sorry I took so long,” Sidney grumbled, dropping her backpack with a loud thump and heading for the fridge in the back. “You know how Mason Gentry likes to talk. I did find some nice daggers though.” Her voice became muffled as she scavenged.
Finally heading back my way with a carrot, she perched on the nearest counter with an odd expression. “Did you hear about the kelpie attacks?” she asked with her mouth full.
“No,” I replied, distracted by my unfinished project. “Did you find my silver filament?”
“Sure did.” She frowned, pulling a bundle from the pocket in the front of her hoodie and tossing it to me.
“What happened with the kelpies?” I ripped out the material I’d hoped to substitute for the silver, threaded the new filament through the back of the clasp on the tiny heartstone shard, then worked on attaching it to the wings.
“Gentry said he heard a lot of water sprites have gone missing from some of the trading outposts, and it turns out kelpies have been eating them.”
I dropped my pliers. “Eatingthem? Sprites are sentientpeople. That’sdisgusting!” My stomach turned. That was one of the most disturbing things I’d heard in a long time.
Sidney nodded, clearly in agreement. Kelpies were known for using their magic to lure things and kill them, but the thought that they would be seeking outpeopleto dine on regularly now was beyond the pale.
Forcing my attention back to my project, I clipped off the filament. I focused on the heartstone, pushing my energy into it, and perhaps some pent-up anger, willing it to ‘life’. Immediately the wings began to flutter, and it rose as if flying. It was actually levitating, but the fluttering wings added a nice touch, and it really did resemble a large wasp. It didn’t have a purpose yet, but I’d think of something. I hadn’t created something like it in a long time, and I was thrilled to get it off the ground.
Hearing a scream morph into a screech, I turned in time to see Sidney disappear, her clothes a clump on the floor, the lump of her avian form hidden within.
“Sidney! Youjustwatched me build it! It’s not even real!”
She fought her way free of the neck hole and flapped her wings angrily, squawking at me. Her sleek black and white form hopped to the countertop, and I scooped up her clothes and carried them to the back room so she’d have some privacy to dress once she calmed down. We really needed to work on her startle reflex.
* * *
Stepping out into the crisp,fall Seattle air, I scanned the street and made my way to the Golden Laurel Gate, heading home. Feeling the rings on my fingers and bracelets on my wrists, I made a mental tally of each magical item on my person, the way another girl might note the mace in her pocket or a whistle around her neck. I had amulets, charms, and talismans woven into my loose hair in tiny chains, draped from my neck, and clustered in my pockets. I wasn’t quite five feet tall, certainly wasn’t strong, and had no defensive or offensive magic, but I had enough energy to power my stones, and they had some built-in surprises.
I pulled my jacket a little tighter, thankful the weather where I lived in the Boundlands—known to some humans as Faery—matched up for now with the weather here in the Void—or the human realm.
North Seattle made a great location for our shop, thanks to being a relatively large magical crossroads. There were enough people coming and going between the Void and the Boundlands that we had three separate Gates in this neighborhood alone. Seattle itself wasn’t a great draw, but it was an important hub with lots of magical traffic and cheap rent, at least compared to the Boundlands. It was a logical midpoint to set up shop.
As I neared the corner, I felt a spider web of sensation, a tingle along the outer reaches of my perception. I focused on the tugging sensation. Most people might have given in to it, been pulled under by the feelings of joy and gratitude, but I recognized it as an enchantment. I had a ward against such things, and while it wasn’t perfect, it did its job.
I continued forward, working my way through a gathering crowd and paying attention to the threads of enchantment. Sitting on a concrete ledge in front of the local coffee shop was a man playing guitar and singing about a January wedding. His guitar case was propped open and overflowing with bills from passersby and the gathered crowd. Tall and lanky, with a swimmer’s build, he had loosely-curled, dark-blond hair and an angular jaw covered in light scruff. A tattoo sleeve of an ocean scene flowed up his left arm.
He was breathtaking.
As I came to a stop nearby, the man raised his eyes to meet mine, and a lazy grin spread across his face, making my heart race. He reminded me of seafoam and the joy of looking for little treasures washed up in the surf. I tried to get a better feel for his magic, but what I got didn’t make any sense.
It felt like he wassinginghis enchantment, but the only spell singers I knew of were mermaids, and only the females were sirens. Male sirens didn’t exist. Another oddity was that the regular run-of-the-mill humans around me appeared to be under his influence. Since they didn’t have any magic of their own,ourmagic didn’t usually affect them.
Although, there were stories in human folklore of sailors being lured by sirens.
Maybe theycouldbe affected.
There was also the possibility that he was just a good singer. His voice was warm and slightly husky, drawing you in, making you feel wanted, cherished. Singing as he was, about weddings and love, about knowing his beloved even though she speaks so low that he could barely hear her... Yeah, it was easy to fantasize about being in love with this singer in another life, but looking at the small crowd, they all seemed... excessively cheerful for people in this area. It wasn’t called the ‘Seattle Freeze’ for the weather after all. Even as I stood there, several people approached and threw large bills in his case.People aren’t this generous with buskers.
There was more going on than just his singing ability.
I narrowed my gaze as he finished his song, and people began to blink off their confusion and disperse. I bristled at their dazed expressions. Just like the kelpies, this was one more example of seafolk using their lures to target vulnerable people.
“Hello, Empress.” He continued looking at me with that impish smile. He might recognize me as being—very distantly—related to the currently ruling family within the Boundlands, but I’d never met this man before. I would have remembered him.
“Empress?” I asked, my voice flat.
