Siren Slave (24 page)

So, he’d listened to some of their conversation.

There was a sudden splash from the river. Merrick turned just as a wide green fin slapped at the water again, sending a fan of spray at the three on the shore.

“What kind of creature is that?” Julia pointed to the fin, attached to a sinuous tail, still hovering over the water. Her arms shielded her hair from any further watery assault.

This was Hedwig’s method of a convenient save? Splashing? Another splash.

Merrick shielded his eyes and Freya ran, stumbling towards the water, clothing, chain and all. “I’ll have a look!” She flung herself into the night-black water, letting the heavy chain pull her down, down, hopefully deep enough Merrick and Julia couldn’t see her.

Hedwig was suddenly at her side, multi-colored nails closing over Freya’s wrist. “At least I got you away from that bitch and that man with the ugly teeth.”

Freya struggled in her pack for the key so she could breathe, the metal of her collar cutting off all magic, but Hedwig was quicker. An eddy of water swirled over the Sea Witch’s palm, solidifying into a silver key. Only the end of the key was gelatinous. “I’ll make it harden when I stick it in the lock.” Clever, very clever.

“What are you doing here?” Freya asked after the collar had fallen away, after she’d taken several long breaths and transformed her legs to a tail.

“My sea beasts…well, some of them relocated to the Rhine, because I have to be here.” Hedwig rolled her eyes. She had a long, sparkling tail of many bright colors, all forming a pattern of swirls. The long fin was the same sea green as her hair. “If you weren’t chained and you stayed close to water, you could hear them, too. But that Murk-dick man has taken Siegfried’s boat. It’s upstream. And guarded.”

Merrick had the
River Queen?
No bears upstream, but a boat. “We have to go get it.”

“Good. Finally you want to do something fun. Please tell me you are going to make people explode.”

“I’m considering it.” Freya flicked her tail, but Hedwig grabbed her arm again.

“Not yet. I didn’t give you what you need yet. Wait…while I look for it.” Her voice was uncharacteristically uncertain. Alliteration again. “I’m sorry about Folkvang. Everyone’s expecting you to simply get over this or deal with it and still go on.” The Sea Witch sounded frustrated, angry even.

“Thanks?” Freya said. “I mean, really, thanks, Hedwig.”

The Sea Witch peered into her satchel, rifling through it, head down. All Freya could see was the billowing tresses flowing into the murk. “First, I wanted to talk to you about this. I’m using this as my excuse to have this talk.”

“Shouldn’t we be saving Siegfried’s boat, Hedwig?”

“Shut up. I’m having a rare sentimental moment. The boat will be there when we get there.” Hedwig continued rifling through her purse, tossing out vials, shoes, and wigs, which floated in the water around both of their heads. “I know what it’s like to lose your parents at a really bad time, not have time to mourn. Things can get messy. You ever want to talk about it, vent over some booze, tell me. Most people don’t understand the ‘not having time to cry’ part. They think that everything should just be better for you because they don’t feel what you feel. Everything doesn’t remind them of what you recently lost. That’s one of the many reasons I hate people.”

Hedwig moved her hands, waving the floating bottles into different clusters. The wigs bobbled through the water into another pile, the same with the shoes. Hedwig sniffled as she continued to organize her bag. That is exactly what she was doing—organizing her bag—in the middle of a crisis situation. But what if Hedwig had something important in there that would be needed, and she couldn’t find it?

Freya gave Hedwig a tight hug when the Sea Witch dabbed at her eye. “Thanks. I understand. I had Enbarr’s help, but it’s still there. The loss. More so, confusion. I don’t think it’ll ever go away.” Her home more than her family. Her friends, Bertha, all those memories.

Hedwig didn’t pull away from the embrace. “It doesn’t. Ever. I know what it is for you. My mother and I never used to get along, but my father and I were close. He died in some stupid war.
That
war. So, I didn’t feel very sad when my mother died. I was angry with her still, and that made me sad, guilty.”

“Your father was a Fomori?” Freya asked, pulling away. “Who were your parents?”

Hedwig took a long breath. “Circe and Neptune.” Freya hadn’t known Neptune was dead. “They supported the Fomori, even though they weren’t Fomori. Father was friends with Balor, your mother’s friend leading the war. Anyway, Circe gave me my true name the day my father died. She wanted me to use my powers to go and avenge his death. I made…a real mess of it. My mother was angry with me, so I never talked to her again. It was always a guilt trip when I saw her, so I gave up. When she faded—that’s what fey do when they die. Just stop wanting to live and they go to whatever comes after immortality. Well, when she faded, I felt nothing. That’s what Hecate and Woden are doing to you, isn’t it? The same thing my mother did.”

“That’s what it feels like. Um, can we start over? I know I really annoy you.”

“Look, I’m sorry for being such a bitch. You lost people, your home. You’ve got people trying to kill you. I gave you the Delirious potion so you wouldn’t start weeping over Kirsa. I thought being upset would make it worse for you. It was worse for me when my mother wanted me to avenge my dad. I don’t want to go into details about it—maybe I will one day—what happened when I got my powers. But for now, we’re friends. Aha.” Hedwig slowly pulled the gleaming weapon from her purse, smiling.

Freya took the trident. It felt warm in her hands. The purple glow of her magic surrounded her. The light left her in human form, winged, and with her armor. She called upon the mists to settle over the water in ghostly tendrils as she surfaced and swam toward shore, listening. She felt more certain of Hedwig’s friendship now, but they did have a job to do.

“What the hell are you doing?” Hedwig hissed, swimming after her.

“I want to see what they’re doing before we go upstream. I want to know what Merrick’s going to do. Julia looked surprised, so he might be explaining his motives or something.”

The figures of Merrick and Julia, silhouetted in moonlight, had moved further upriver, the direction of the
River Queen.

“What do we tell Idunn?” Julia asked Merrick. The two were standing close together on the shore, facing each other. “What do we tell Siegfried?”

“Siegfried’s opinion doesn’t matter,” Merrick said. “He’ll be going back to Rome soon enough, chained aboard his ship with his men. But we need to find that whore’s body for the reward. I wanted her alive.”

So they thought she’d drowned. Well, she had been under a while.

“You were going to grab your dagger,” Julia said meekly.

“To threaten her.” Merrick shook his head, making a disgusted sound. “We’ll send people to look in the morning, take the mermaid figurehead off the front of Siegfried’s ship, and tie her body up there instead.” Merrick laughed. “I don’t think it’ll matter that she’s dead. Vercingetorix will be happy to get some of the reward for these two for his army.”

“She did do me one better to get away from Siegfried,” Julia said. “I only faked death. Little fool was rambling about Siegfried, but nothing at all useful.”

“Bitch,” Hedwig and Freya said at the same time, then continued toward the River Queen under the cover of mist.

The
River Queen
was a small boat that would be swift and easy to navigate around rocks. The sails, as Freya had expected—she did have that drawing of it, well, had a drawing of it—were green and looked like fins. There were eight of them. Above a crow’s nest flew a black flag with a white fox’s head. Painted in gold on the front of the boat next to the mermaid figurehead were the words
River Queen.
Only the Q was an eight. So,
River 8ueen?
She hadn’t known about that little detail.

She really hoped Siegfried knew by now that she wouldn’t expect him to be superhuman, not until she figured out what Balder had done to become fey. Right now, she could handle being superhuman enough for him.

“Sun Shimmer tells me they have ten Averni, two Remi, and one Roman,” Hedwig said.

“Remi? Roman? With the resistance?”

“They’re dressed Averni. Freya, are you surprised? That Murk-dick is like a cheap whore. He’ll do anything for anyone as long as they pay him. I’ve seen him sailing around on my waters enough, uglying up my seas.”

“Your waters?”

“Yes, my waters. They are all mine. Here and in the Otherworld. I am the most powerful of all the Finfolk. At least I was until you came along.”

“I’m not going to challenge you for that. I wouldn’t want to have to explode you,” Freya said, excitement flowing hot and fast through her veins.

“And I wouldn’t want to have to give you the bloody flux. Now, I’m going to get us up there. Follow my lead. I’ll be the decoy. You be the muscle.”

Freya was about to protest, point out that Hedwig insinuated she could beat Freya when a great water spout surged around the Sea Witch, propelling her upwards. Freya maneuvered the mists so they concealed Hedwig until she landed.

“What the hell?” one of the Averni said when Freya heard the clack of Hedwig’s heels hit the deck. “We have a…whore aboard our ship.” This was followed by laughter.

“Is there a big bed in the captain’s quarters, and how many of you can fit in it with me?” Was Hedwig forgetting why they were there?

Freya wished she could see what was going on above, but all she could see was the side of the boat above her.

“A little fun? We’ve been guarding against nothing all night,” the Roman said. “I get her first.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Hedwig said. “I like you. Yes, you with the bulge swelling your skirt thing. So I suppose you
can
go with the first group. Now, not you at all. You don’t have enough teeth and you have a rodent look. You, with the beautiful abs, I want you—”

Freya spread her wings and flew upward, landing in the sails. She’d never moved this swiftly before. No one heard her at all. Except Hedwig.

“Presenting Hedwig the Sea Bitch and Freya the River Queen,” Hedwig announced, dissipating her garment, revealing all her generous curves. She left on her coral-heeled shoes.

“Up here,” Freya called and gave them a jaunty wave. Some of the men sank to their knees. Others were too stunned to move. “Hedwig just said I’m the River Queen. Wait, Hedwig, did you just cede some of your holdings? Hah, yes you did. My ferocity sends you to quaking in your prostitute shoes, making you want to appease me. But, seriously, thanks. Well, right now, you men are all encroaching on Freya territory.”

“Freya.” Hedwig growled. “Not funny.”

“What in the hell is that? A slave? A goddess?”

“This is my war paint.” Excitement thrummed through Freya’s body, the other part of her waking up, wanting to use the trident. She leapt down to land beside Hedwig on the deck. “I’m not a goddess, simply magical. No human sacrifices, please.”

Only her words seemed to encourage the Roman. Hedwig was admiring a particularly muscular Averni, and the Roman was using the opportunity to sneak up behind her, sword drawn.

“She’s not a goddess,” one whispered.

Freya knew she could handle this. Her trident was before her, deflecting a spear. When a sword swiped at her feet, she leapt up to land in the sails again.

“I can do it,” she shouted. “Whee!”

She dove back down to the decks, trident in front of her. Before she hit, she altered her course, flying just above the clean, wooden surface. Romans screamed as the abalone tines met innards. Quick and easy, not like the Blood Call. Or did that just seem longer because of all the mess it created? She could fight the way the warriors taught her, now that she had comfortable shoes. But with her armor, she was faster and stronger. She’d felt some of this in the Folkvang dungeons, but she’d used the butt of her trident and kept some rein on her abilities.

“Come on. This is too easy,” Freya taunted. “I wanted a challenge.” She gave an exaggerated yawn and barely felt a sword graze her calf. She was hot and sticky in a few places, but it didn’t matter. Blood sprayed around her. Her body sang with the music of battle, the ringing of swords, the shouts, the feeling of being alive.

The armor had worked. The deck was soaked in red, but she hadn’t felt sick at all. Despite the pain, this was scarily enjoyable…a joy uninhibited by nausea.

“Frey, wait,” Hedwig said before Freya impaled the Remi warrior battling with her. “We need to find out where the sailors are.”

“The sailors?” a Remi said. “They’re below, chained in the hold, waiting to be executed. They want all the Remi to see, sealing Odilia’s control. Please, let me live.”

Freya shrugged. “All right. Um, could you give Odilia a message for me? Tell her don’t sleep too soundly. What she thinks might be a mouse, might be me, waiting in the shadows, watching her every move, readying myself to pounce and—”

“Oh, and give Pompey a message from Hedwig,” the Sea Witch said. “Just tell him I said hello.”

“Huh?” Freya said, then shrugged again.

When the Remi had fled, she leapt down the stairs leading below. She didn’t know what a hold was, but was betting it was that large area in the center of the boat. There were two floors below decks. The first was the sleeping quarters. Below was the kitchen-y area. Was that the galley? There was also a storage area there, too. That would be the most obvious place to chain people.

She had memorized the drawing of his boat, knew where everything was. There were, indeed, men in the storage area. They had been chained to the walls and beaten bloody. The place reeked of festering wounds and waste. Again, she was grateful for her armor.

Hedwig squeaked when a rat ran across their feet.

“Just a rat,” Freya said. “Not like it’s a spider or something.” A rat only had four legs, making it perfectly acceptable. She was…giddy? She felt amazing, having taken out some of those earlier frustrations on people who would conspire to oppress her.