"You should go."

She'd be alone, but it was okay.

"Find the others. Let them know about the magic. Get a chance to visit the ocean."

She knew next to nothing about Callias, but the idea of him leaving was terrifying. If he left, Iliana had no idea when she'd next see a friendly face. The fact of the matter was, until that moment she hadn't realized just how screwed she was.

Iliana had no intentions of giving up on escape--but she wasn't an idiot.

"There won't be another chance like this."

Callias stood just inside the doorway, his hand lingering over the impassible magic barrier. Only inches laid between them, but it felt like miles as he studied her gaze with his classic, blank expression. Then, he looked away.

"Sounds of combat came from the back room."

He dropped his arm. Before she could fully comprehend the meaning behind his words, he'd turned his back to the entrance and started for the meeting room. Iliana stared after him, precious seconds ticking away as her mind struggled to comprehend his decision.

"You should go," she repeated.

He ignored her, instead disappearing into the back room. Her mind revisited his words, and hope flickered to life in her chest. The spell around the building blocked out all sound. Iliana imagined it was the same spell that kept her locked inside. If someone was fighting in the other room...

There was a slim chance the spell didn't encompass the entire building. It would be strange--as Eumelia didn't seem the sort to allow such a huge oversight--but, possible. Witch doctors were only human, and humans made mistakes.

Iliana scrambled to catch up with Callias. She was relieved to discover he waited for her, his gaze focused on the door leading into the back room. He purposely placed himself in front of her as they approached it, obviously intending to be the first to face whatever danger they were about to encounter. Once again, she saw no reason to argue.

He opened the door.

The room was dim, but the scene was easy enough to make sense of. Lykos took up the center of the floor, sword firm in his grip. A closed door laid behind him, most likely the entrance his opponents managed to penetrate. Three cloaked figures fought him, weapons raised, while four more watched on. For most men, this would've seemed like too much.

Lykos, however, appeared to be enjoying himself.

Wet crimson drenched his collarbone, and trailed down his bare, scarred chest. Sweat glistened across his skin, showing off how his muscles flexed as he flowed from one motion to the next, dodging and attacking with a strange grace that belayed his size. Several, shallow cuts marred his body, but they paled in comparison to the wounds his opponents wore, and were nothing like the gash that'd doused him in blood.

The back room had been a bad idea. There was no escape to be had in a room dominated by the likes of him.

One of the onlookers nudged another, and Iliana took a step back. She was aware, however, that her hesitation came too late. They'd been spotted. Callias tensed, readying his borrowed blade.

"Lookie 'ere," the closest stranger jeered, amusement stark on his face. "Fancy boy pretties himself a protector. Think we should rob 'im a bitch?"

Anger rose hot and fierce in Iliana's chest, even as common sense told her to back away. She couldn't fight. Not as she was. The knowledge didn't stop her from shifting her stance, however, something that wasn't lost on their aggressor. He laughed as he flicked a blade into his palm. The sight chilled some of her anger.

Common thugs didn't keep concealed blades--and they certainly couldn't release them with a flick of their wrists.

"Look like they've already got 'er dolled up, Alec. Don't see the sense in takin' a bitch that can't use 'er 'ands," one of the others replied.

"Them type don't need no 'ands," Alec replied, a smug grin forming. "You'll see."

Vile churned in Iliana's stomach. Her hands tightened around her blade, anger and embarrassment welling up in equal measure. In front of her, Callias had gone still. His attention flickered between the thugs and Lykos, as if he were measuring their importance.

"Go back to the room," he concluded. "It isn't safe here."

"You'll 'ave to git rid of that one," the second thug concluded. "Seems protective. 'is 'air would sell well. Think it'll go bloodied?"

"Might," Alec agreed. "Split 'em?"

"Aye."

Then, without anymore warning, Alec lunged. Callias stepped forward to meet the attack with his borrowed blade, and Iliana found herself torn.

Common sense said to run. She was cuffed, and not exactly familiar with sword fighting. Just because she had a temper, and tended to swing without thinking, didn't mean she had any formal training. Still...

She could sing.

It'd worked before. The harpy had interrupted her, but it'd worked. If she could keep Callias from getting injured while defending her--as without Iliana's presence, he could've walked through the front door--then it was worth a shot, wasn't it?

Fighting embarrassment, as singing out of the blue in front of total strangers was nothing if not embarassing, Iliana opened her mouth. Before she could think of a single word, instinct told her to just sing. A hauntingly beautiful melody sparked in her mind, and it fell from her lips without as much a single thought. There were no words for the song, just a tone that would've set her hairs on edge at any other time.

The fighting stopped.

Both Callias, and his attacker, had turned their attention to her. Callias' brow was furrowed, his free hand reaching up to grasp the charm at the base of his neck. Lykos' attackers had paused as well, and were staring at her with wide, enamored eyes. The man himself twirled his sword around, bracing it against the floorboards. His chest flexed as he drew in deep, labored breaths.

Encouraged by the reactions, Iliana stepped further inside. Alec reached out a hand towards her, and she shied away, putting her back to the left side of the room. The unfamiliar melody churned through her mind, setting her on edge. How was it that a song she'd never heard before, could enchant so many people within seconds?

The six men were edging closer, and Iliana found herself reluctant to move. Backing into a corner seemed unwise, but what was the alternative? What happened when the person enchanted by a siren reached them? As if having the same thoughts, Lykos lifted his sword and slammed the flat of the blade against the head of the nearest enemy. They slumped to the floor, and were followed by two of their allies.

Seeming to shake off the song, Callias turned away and did the same to his opponent. Relief flickered through Iliana as he moved to take care of the other man who'd joined the vulgar conversation.

Then, pain.

Shock broke off Iliana's song. The hilt of her borrowed blade slipped from her palms. Her legs quivered, hands grasping the sword through her middle. The blade moved down, and Iliana screamed as it tore through her insides.

"Fucking siren," spat a feminine voice.

Her vision narrowed as the room drowned in chaos. She could focus on none of it, her entire attention centered on the pain consuming her body. It burned. Her legs quivered, and suddenly Iliana was the ground. Her limbs felt like jelly, unable to shift despite her urging.

The world flickered, and muted. Callias was there, the seventh stranger suddenly in pain. The fighting took up again, but easier--less outnumbered.

She couldn't breathe. Not truly. Drawing in breath hurt, and prompted a harsh, wet cough from her lips. Her eyes burned, holding back unshed tears. She wouldn't cry. If anything, she wanted to curse herself for not paying attention.

The room dimmed. Time blurred.

She was moved, and the searing pain caused a cry to escape her lips. Her hand grabbed for the person who'd moved her. She found someone, and seized the fabric beneath her fingers in a death grip. Iliana needed to hold onto something, to feel something besides the agony rippling through her.

"Put pressure here," Lykos barked. "Give me your shirt."

Someone moved. The fabric ripped from her hand. A hand clasped her own, and Iliana squeezed it tighter than she'd known she could.

She screamed as the blade was tore from her body.

"Aran! We need Eumelia now."

The black consumed her.

And, as suddenly as it'd come, the pain was gone.

She was standing--how she'd come to be standing was a mystery to her. After all, people didn't normally go from passed out on the floor in their own blood, to standing and perfectly fine.

Iliana blinked her eyes open in disbelief, only to discover the sight of a pure white nothingness. The sole interruption to the white were four, red strings drawn out into the never ending white. She took a step in the direction of one the strings, only to pause at the discovery of a faint tug on her ankle. She glanced down, and froze.

The red strings that stretched out into the white were anchored by her anklet, tied where her charms should've hung. She took an experimental step, and was surprised as the strings gave with the motion, moving as her ankle did.

"What in the fucking fates is going on?" she muttered.

"Fates would be right," a familiar voice answered.

Iliana spun around, cursing as she almost tripped over the strings. Standing behind her, looking more amused than anything else, was Koun. Unable to help herself, she glowered.

"The fuck is with you and my dreams?" she demanded.

Koun laughed.

"You know," he mused. "It takes a certain level of bravery, or stupidity, depending on your prospective, to be rude to a god."

"Where does telling a god to shove off rank?"

Koun cocked his head, considering. "Stupid."

"That's fantastic. Can I go back, now?"

Anxiety flickered through her. Seeing a god right after being run through couldn't be good, right?

"Don't be so hasty," Koun scolded. "I called to you for a reason."

"Which is?"

"To show you this place." He turned, gesturing towards the white nothingness into which one of the strings disappeared.

Iliana frowned, studying the area with a critical eye. The longer she stared, the more she felt as if there were a faint silhouette in the distance.

"Which is what?" she questioned.

"A gift of sorts," Koun replied, tone cheerful. "I thought, if we gods were going to... I suppose guide might be the right word, hm? If we're going to guide your future, we might as well offer you this." The gods were guiding her future? Why? How? "I might've shown you sooner, but was busy. This isn't a bad time, is it?"

His grin told her he knew exactly how horrible his timing was.

"No, not at all," Iliana replied flatly.

"Good. Now, follow that string. And know... the real world counterparts of those--" He gestured to the anklet. "--work just as well. Just make sure you're in a situation which being thrust into here, the other realm, is safe."

And with those comforting words, Koun disappeared once again.

Uncertain of what else to do, Iliana took a step in the indicated direction. Like before, the anklet gave a faint tug but didn't stop her. Satisfied that the task wouldn't be all that difficult, she started walking.

The world around her stayed the same, bland, nothingness as she walked. The silhouette, however, grew darker and more concrete. The closer she drew, the more defined it became. Until she found herself standing directly in front of it, and stared at the figure in partial shock. Partial, because she'd been half-expecting the charms to come into play, but honestly hadn't believed it possible.

The silhouette was massive, seeming to outline someone with a muscular build. The string disappeared into their chest. Directly above where it disappeared, a familiar symbol glowed bright red. Four circles settled into the corners of a diamond, with an 'x' settled in each circle. The character for silence.

Is the figure Lykos? Iliana wondered.

Her instincts screamed at her to touch the symbol. Logic said that when she did, something would happen. She... wasn't sure she wanted to find out what.

The implications of such an idea were chilling. If the figure was Lykos, if that symbol, her charm, connected her to him...

Exactly how random had the kidnapping been? Had she really just been in the wrong place, become a siren at the wrong time like she'd been thinking? Or... had it been preordained by the gods?

Iliana swallowed thickly, a sick feeling churning in her gut. Would they really do that? If so, why? Iliana wasn't special. An average girl, from a not-so-average family, as she'd been reminded constantly growing up. Until she'd become a siren, she wouldn't have turned a single head when she walked into the room.

Why her?

Her hand trembled, and she clutched it to her chest as if that could ward off her growing anxiety. Why her? What about her made the gods wish for such an event to happen? How had she even caught their eye?

The attention of the gods was something she'd never wanted. Legends told of what happened to those who drew the attention of the gods. Their champions lived horrible lives, then sometimes, rarely, were gifted with a blessed ending as a result of their hard work.

Most of the time, they just died.

She'd probably never know how long she stood, staring at the symbol. Bravery was easy to have when life gave you no choice. When time seemed to hold little meaning, however, and there was no one whispering over your shoulder... brave tasks became harder.

And oh, how she needed courage to touch that symbol.

Eventually, she scraped together enough curiosity, and burning desire to know if her worries were real, and to force her fingers against the glow.

The world disappeared. For a split second, she couldn't breathe, and panic consumed her.

And then, she was in reality.

Lykos sat at the meeting table, wearing a serious expression that felt out of place on his face. His hands were templed before him, the tips resting against his forehead. His eyes were closed, but she doubted it meant he wasn't paying attention to the report Alake was giving him.

"--fifth attack this month. The fourth was yesterday, when I was searching for the siren. There were fewer of them, then."

"And this is by Acis?"

"We're uncertain. He's offered threats, really, but he's never acted before. After all, he likes his position in Wolfhaven. His gang doesn't have to worry about raids here. If he acted, and we forced him out, they'd have to deal with the crown's guard.

Lykos opened his eyes. "And if they were paid, or bribed?"

"He'd accept without a doubt."

"So it's Zuher."

The Collector King of Reotak? What did he have to do with the Unseen Hand?

Alake rubbed the back of his neck, hesitance playing across his face. "I wouldn't... well, it's hard to say for sure. This is Eol. Alekos--"

"Is Zuher's pawn."

Iliana dropped her hand, shock flooding her system. The scene blinked out, the whiteness flooding her world once again.

"Gods' alive," she whispered.

If Alekos, the king of Eol, was a pawn of Zuher...

Ceion would stand no chance, if they were attacked on both sides. The Shinde Mountains which separate the countries wouldn't matter if both countries launched a sea-side attack. It was suicide, really, given Umae's blessing on Ceion, but with enough numbers...

Ceion would be finished. And then what? Where would Reotak look next? Aeolis?

The questions of why she'd seen what she'd seen, of her connection to Lykos, dropped from her mind. More important were the implications of what she'd heard.

With Eol bowing to Zuher, it was only a matter of time until the mad, Collector King controlled everything.