Siren Song (The Fated #1)

06 | Sarai Noinna

Breathe, Iliana urged herself. Inhale. Exhale. Don't panic.

"You want me to become a siren?" she asked.

Rhode laughed. "You are blunt, I see. I suppose I should return the favor. Yes, that is exactly what we hope."

Iliana forced herself to take another deep breath. Hoping was good. If the sirens hoped she would become a siren, that implied an option. She could refuse.

She would refuse.

"Why me?" Iliana questioned.

It made no sense. Gods' children were special. There was nothing special about Iliana. She was a normal girl, from a somewhat normal home, that worked on an extremely normal merchant ship.

People like her didn't become sirens.

The sliver of fear invading her mind grew stronger as her thoughts grasped the concept and ran with it.

Becoming a siren was impossible for Iliana. She wouldn't, couldn't be the cause of more sailors dying. Her stomach clenched, pain seeming to echo through her entire body at the thought. She wouldn't make people feel the ache she had shoved to the back of her mind. She wouldn't force them to battle tears that seemed to be constantly on the edge of falling. Just the idea of it threatened to make her physically ill.

"Because it's possible," Rhode said.

Seeing Iliana's obvious confusion, Rhode stepped around the trunk, before perching on the edge. Her expression turned thoughtful as she crossed one leg over the other and settled her hands in her lap.

"It's hard to explain," Rhode continued. "But, those who have been changed can feel the possibilities. It is similar to how we can tell when someone has been cursed or blessed by the gods. Most call it a sixth sense. Melitta and Callias sensed the possibility within you, so they brought you here. It is an instinct the gods bestowed upon their children. Without it, there is every chance the races would die out."

Iliana met Inna's Laws?

She found it hard to believe, no matter what Rhode said. Sure, she'd faced some hardship as a result of her sister's marriage, but was that really all it took to become a siren? If that was the case, shouldn't the island be overflowing with those who'd been dealt a hard hand by life?

There had to be more to it.

" Again, why me?" Iliana pressed. "Gods' children are created from the dead or dying. I'm neither."

Rhode seemed to consider her answer for a moment. During the resulting silence, the front door swung open. Dalphie had returned, a large, cloth covered basket in her hands. The smell of fresh-baked bread reached Iliana, prompting an embarrassing growl from her stomach. The sirens laughed.

"Sorry," she murmured.

"No need. I take responses like those as compliments," Dalphie replied, crossing the room.

She settled the basket on the kitchen table, before drawing out a plate and muffin. Iliana hadn't realized it until that moment, but she was starving. It didn't help that she could spot little nuts peeking out of the top of the bread. Iliana had a weakness for pecans.

"I think," Rhode said, drawing Iliana's attention back to her. "I might be able to answer a lot of your questions, even those you haven't asked, with a story."

"What story?" Iliana asked.

"You may have heard it, although it isn't as popular as others," Rhode replied. "What do you know of the first siren?"