Siren Song (The Fated #1)

08 | Memories

Hours later, Iliana made the harsh trek back to the village. Uneasiness crept down her spine as she traveled through the forest. She felt as if she were being watched, but no amount of staring into the undergrowth or canopies could decipher where the feeling came from. She attempted to write it off as an aftereffect of her time spent sitting with Aran, but some part of her knew better.

The gatemaster held his own, unique feeling. It was cold, and somewhat frightening, but nothing like the uneasiness seeping from the shadowed trees.

They did mention nightmares. The thought sent ice through her veins, and a hurried edge to her pace. While she'd never been injured by one herself--thank the gods--Iliana'd grown up knowing exactly how dangerous they were. A memory flashed through her thoughts, and she sank her teeth into her lip, forcing back the pain thrumming through her chest.

"Mama's okay. Just a bit tired."

Pain laced her thumb, a coppery-tang filling her mouth. Still, she didn't pull her thumb from her mouth, continuing to bite down on her too-short nail. It helped guide her thoughts, to push the tears away. Mama hated it when she cried. So, she wouldn't cry.

Even if Mama didn't recognize her.

She rested her bottom against her heels, watching as Mara ran a wet cloth over their mother's sweat-soaked forehead. Mara's free hand clasped their mother's, a desperate grip born of fear.

She wasn't supposed to have noticed, Iliana knew. Mara tried her best to hide how scared she was. Iliana wasn't supposed to see how bad their mama's sickness had gotten. She was too little. Or at least, that's what Mara told the priests every time she left Iliana in their care. Mara was the big sister, so it was her job to worry.

"Get my drink, will you?"

Mara stepped away from the small cot their mother laid in, and crossed the room. Iliana turned away, pressing her back to the wall she'd been hiding behind. She'd long ago learned it was best that she stay out of sight when their mother was like this--bed bound and confused. Most of the time, she slept, or cried. But... sometimes, rarely, she'd get angry.

Mara said not to listen to her when she got like that. She said it was normal for the Poisoned to get confused, and that Mama didn't really mean to forget Iliana. She listened, usually. There'd been a few times, when she was littler, that she didn't. They were burned into her mind. Mama had screamed about Iliana, saying that Mara wasn't allowed to bring strangers into the house. How they could barely feed themselves, let alone beggar children. That she needed to put her back out on the street.

When she was better, she didn't remember. She smiled, and offered hugs. Saying how they were both her baby girls, and how she couldn't live without them.

Mara said it was the nightmare's fault.

Iliana... wasn't sure.

She peeked around the corner, unsettled by how quiet the room had become. She must have leaned out too far, because her mother's gaze caught her own.

"Get out!"

Iliana shook her head, casting the memories to the back of her mind. What was it about this island that brought memories she'd long buried to the forefront of her thoughts? Her mother was long-dead, the wounds her disease had gouged into Iliana's heart had faded to old scars. She'd been young enough that most of the memories were fuzzy, now, with the exclusion of a few, random experiences.

Still, wariness flooded her system and she was careful to avoid straying from the main path. Most nightmares held the same poison that had plagued her childhood. Her mother had died from a scratch. Anything more than that and she'd have never been born, as most of the Poisoned died within hours, if not seconds.