Josephine's voice kills any man who hears it-except for the assassin sent to capture her for the king that's been chasing her all her life...but what happens when he decides he doesn't want to hand her over and keep her for himself instead?
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I was seated in front of a crackling fire holding a bowl of porridge while waiting for an Elder of the Siren community of Hefeta to either tell me that I only had months left to live—or that I was the key to saving the world.
What I was not expecting was for Olesia, that very same Elder, to glance at me with motherly love swimming in her light green eyes.
I wasn't expecting for her to embrace me upon entering the home of Sabira, Inala's close friend and the best cook I'd come across in all my years traversing the lands on the run from the King of Valencia.
"It's good, right? I told you it was good."
Inala's words were ignored as I again took a few more bites of the warm, savory food in front of me and glanced once more to Olesia.
We had been waiting for Sabira to return with the two people she'd been planning on bringing into the conversation, Errina and Warrick, but so far all we'd done was consume our porridge and...stare at one another in abated silence.
Olesia finally broke the tangible silence by placing a weathered hand upon my knee.
Sat across from me in a worn chair, Olesia's thin hunched and frail frame barely took up the chair on its own, but it was her hair that commanded the attention of the room.
Deep red and almost a full, living flame, her hair twisted and curled in a coiffed braid that snaked around her head like a snake and ended in a corkscrew curl that landed by her hips.
It nearly blended completely into the intense red of her robes.
"Josephine, it's been so long. You must tell me what life's been like for you since you were...since you left the community."
I hadn't noticed before, but her voice had a small lilt to it, the barest touch of an accent that lengthened her vowels and punctuated her first and last words with a songbird kind of trilling.
"Well...it hasn't been great. I've been on the run most of my life. Actually, the only times I can remember not being on the run from the King of Valencia are the times from when my father was still alive."
"Oh, you poor thing. That was so long ago. And how did you survive, not being formally trained on how to keep your powers from hurting the innocent?"
"Trust me. I learned quickly to keep my mouth shut once I did kill innocents."
Darkness flared beneath Olesia's sweet and calm veneer, but she quickly masked it. It was almost like she didn't want me knowing that she judged me for the things I had done, but it was there.
That flash of horror and disgust at what I'd done.
I felt it every morning, noon and night when I sang. Saw it reflected back at me in the mirror when I dared a glance into the wretched thing.
