Siren Song
Chapter 6: Caught
"We could hunt him down for you, lord." – Seline (Sister of Vengeance/Fury) of the Weird Sisters, to Oberon about Puck, in "The Gathering, Part I."
"We have you now."
Seline gave her a feral grin. Mortals would not recognize the real differences between the three sisters, she knew. They could not see them as individuals, assuming they worked only as a unit, as if they were simply three forms sharing one mind, one purpose. And on some level, that was true. Yet even now, after all these centuries, they still remained, in a deeper sense, separate entities. Their collective actions simply depended on who was in ascendance at a specific time. Silver-haired Luna was Fate; golden-haired Phoebe was Grace.
Raven-haired Seline, meanwhile, had always been all about rage and revenge. Having had her own very personal experiences with such feelings, the Banshee might actually have been able to understand and admire the Sister's predatory nature.
Of course, that was rather difficult to do at the moment, since said nature was now directed at her.
"I won't go back!" She shrieked, and they all cringed, covering their ears. It was quite satisfying to see them cowed. But they were not mortal, so unfortunately, it didn't last.
Phoebe and Luna each grabbed one of her arms, while Seline clamped a hand over her mouth.
"You dare defy the will of our Lord Oberon?" Seline hissed. "You will suffer for this transgression! When we bring you before him –"
"Banshee," Phoebe interjected. "You have given us a very entertaining hunt. You are a powerful and clever prey." She smirked. "As your … friend Puck would say, it has been a good game."
"Speaking of Puck," Luna continued. "Perhaps an understanding can be reached."
"We have been unable to locate him," Seline explained, her frustration evident.
That's because he's too clever for you. The Banshee would have gladly voiced the thought, had Seline's hand not still covered her mouth. One characteristic all three Sisters shared was arrogance. Good for Puck, showing them they weren't as smart as they thought they were. They'd been in the same city as he was in, more than once, and they hadn't even noticed him in his mortal guise. Fools.
"We suspect you may know where he is," Phoebe said gently. "If you would be so kind as to tell us, we promise to recommend leniency when we bring you before Oberon." She nodded to Seline, who reluctantly removed her hand.
"What say you to this?" Luna asked.
The Banshee was silent.
"Well?" Seline prodded irritably.
"I say …" the Banshee began slowly, "that I … have no idea where Puck is."
"Liar!" Seline shouted. "You will tell us what you know, or I will –"
"I will tell you nothing, harpy!" The Banshee shrieked at her.
"How dare you –"
"You can't stand it, can you Seline? The thought that the Puck outwitted you? Go ahead, drag me back to Avalon; the only tale I will tell will be the story of your humiliation at his hands!"
"I am going to rip out your throat!" Seline lunged for her, but her sisters held her back.
"Now, now," Phoebe chided. "There is no need for such hostility."
"Banshee, we ask you to reconsider," Luna continued. "Think of your own best interests."
"Just tell us where Puck is," Phoebe said sweetly. "If you do, Lord Oberon will be so pleased with you, he may even forget to punish you for ignoring the summons to The Gathering."
"And if you don't tell us," Seline said malevolently, "I can promise you, I will personally recommend that Lord Oberon make your punishment most appropriately unpleasant."
Fear and dread curled in the pit of the Banshee's stomach. It would be so easy to just tell them. It wasn't as though she'd made Puck any promises; it wasn't as though she owed him anything.
But …
"I will tell you nothing," she whispered.
Seline looked as if she were ready to go off on another rant, but Phoebe silenced her with a gesture.
"Very well, then." Luna said. "Your decision is clear. Now we will take you home to face judgment."
She had still struggled of course, futile though it was. It had been stupid, really, not to simply reveal his location. If the Sisters didn't find him, Oberon certainly would. Puck had always been one of his favorites, but over the centuries, the Lord of Avalon had grown to be more annoyed than amused by the trickster's playful defiance. For all she knew, Oberon had already taken care of the matter himself, and Puck would be there she and the Sisters arrived on Avalon.
Of course, that hadn't been what actually had happened. Not even close.
She stood behind him now, watching as he set the little child back down in his crib. For the moment, he was himself, having just finished giving Alexander another magic lesson. It was the first time she had seen him like this, ever since she'd come to warn him about the Gathering. She found herself rather pleased to see him in his true form.
The boy's parents had gone out for the evening; she was supposed to have another lesson with Fox for tomorrow, so she had prepared for that, and then busied herself with work for the company, until her mortal body began to tire.
She wasn't quite sure why she had come down here instead of simply going to bed; she wasn't even sure if she would be permitted in the nursery. The Xanatoses still did not entirely trust her – which was fair enough, she supposed.
Not like Puck. Not only did they trust him with their business, they trusted him with their son.
Puck, for his part, seemed quite fond of the boy – even if, at the moment, he was being unusually fussy.
"Hush," he was saying to the child. "That's enough magic for one night, my boy. You need to sleep now."
"You get him all excited with your antics, Puck, and then you expect him to sleep?" He turned then, looking at her. Like him, she had reverted, at least for the moment, to her true form. He supposed she could still do that whenever she wanted. It had been several weeks since she'd been here though, and he had yet to see her outside of her mortal guise. It probably took more effort to revert than it had before. Still, it was rather nice to see her like this again.
"I don't recall you being an expert on child care," he said to her.
"I don't need to be an expert," she scoffed, walking over to him. "It's common sense."
"Common sense is overrated – oh, Alex," Puck said, as the child began to cry. "Come on, it's bed time. You're giving your poor Uncle Puck a headache."
"No sleep! More magic!"
"Isn't he a bit young to be talking?" The Banshee asked, now standing beside him at the crib.
"Yes, but he's far more advanced than a normal mortal child his age would be," Puck explained, sounding proud.
The child looked up at her. His eyes were wide, but he didn't seem frightened, just curious. He reached his hands up towards her. "Fly?"
"Isn't he cute? See, he likes you. Make him fly around the room, he'll get a big kick out of that."
"Oh yes, Puck. Get him even more riled than he already is. He'll be sure to sleep after that. Brilliant strategy."
"Fly!" Alex said firmly, and began to wail. Puck sighed.
"Do you have a better idea?"
"As a matter of fact, I do." She leaned down, slightly hesitant. She hoped he wouldn't make too much of this.
"Hush, child, the darkness will rise from the deep and carry you down into sleep. Hush, child, the darkness will rise from the deep and carry you down into sleep."
She sang the words softly. She'd barely begun when the boy's eyelids starting drooping. By the time she finished, he was already sleeping, with a contented smile on his face. They stood side by side, watching the now-peaceful child.
"I have not heard you sing like that for a very long time," Puck said quietly. She shrugged.
"It was nothing."
"It was beautiful."
"Yes, well." She paused. "In any case, it seems to have worked." She looked down at the peaceful infant, unable to keep from smiling. Puck grinned.
"You like him."
"Oh hush."
"You like them. I told you they were never dull. Admit it, you're having fun here."
"Maybe," she said grudgingly. "A little. But …"
"What?"
"Puck, I … I miss home."
His grin faded. "Me too," he said simply. He sighed. "It's ironic, I suppose. We didn't want to go back when we could, but now that we can't … oh, don't look so sad, my little siren. After all, you still have a chance of going back someday."
"Don't call me that," she said automatically. "And besides, even if I could go back, it wouldn't be the same without …" She trailed off. Puck cocked his head at her.
"What?"
"Never mind." Her gaze went back to the sleeping infant.
"He is cute, isn't he?" Puck whispered.
Wordlessly, she laid her head on Puck's shoulder. She felt his arm slip around her waist.
"Missed you." He murmured.
"Hush."
Behind them, someone pointedly cleared their throat.
As was their habit whenever they went out, Xanatos and Fox had come to check on their son before going to bed, and had been greeted by a most unusual sight. For starters, their son's tutor normally didn't let them catch him in his true form. And besides the brief flash Xanatos had seen when she was first summoned, neither of them had seen what the Banshee actually looked like.
Both of them stiffened, drawing a part from each other. By the time they turned around, they were back in their human forms. Molly's eyes darted between them, noting Xanatos' expression. Fox had a hand on his arm.
"I'm sorry – we – I was just –"
"No, no it's fine," Fox said, talking at the same time she did.
"Excuse me, I should go." She hurried out the room, leaving the three of them standing there. Both of the parents rushed over to their son's crib.
"He's fine," Xanatos sighed.
"Of course he is," Owen said, sounding as though he was working hard to keep his tone neutral.
"Why was she in here? What happened, exactly?"
He took a deep breath. "I don't think there was any particular reason. She came in as I was trying to get him to sleep. She sang to him, and he dozed off."
"That's all?"
"That's all. Forgive me, sir, I did not realize you did not wish her to enter the nursery."
"No Owen, it's not that, we were just a bit startled," Fox said. She elbowed her husband, who winced slightly.
"It was just a bit … disconcerting." He offered half-heartedly.
Owen looked up at him. His expression did not change, carefully crafted as it was to give no trace of his thoughts, but eyes … well, his eyes were very bright.
"Surely, sir, if you can trust her with your wife, you can also trust her with your son?" He sounded almost pleading.
Xanatos looked at his wife, who nodded. He turned back to Owen.
"I trust you, Owen. That's enough for now. But if she feels slighted, you can make our apologies to her."
Owen's jaw clenched, and he swallowed. "Of course, sir," he said stiffly. He nodded and left the room.
Fox put her hand to her husband's face. "David …"
"I don't like it Fox, I just don't like it. You saw them just now; you see how they are whenever they're around each other."
"They're the only two of their kind left in our world. It's only natural they'd be drawn together."
"There's more to it than that. I think she means more to him than he's willing to admit."
Fox smiled. "Sounds like someone I know. Or used to know."
"Fox –"
"Would it really be so terrible, David? If they are – whatever they are to each other – what's so wrong about them not wanting to face exile alone?"
He sighed. "I just worry. I even worry for him, if that makes sense. I've been reading up on her, you know. If the legends surrounding her are true, she's done some pretty dark things."
"So have you," Fox countered. "So have I. For that matter so has Owen, probably not even counting all the shady dealings he's helped you with."
Despite himself, Xanatos smiled, feeling his mood begin to lighten slightly. "So we should just accept her as a kindred spirit?"
"No, but we should keep and open mind and trust Owen's judgment."
"Fair enough." He wrapped his arms around his wife. "And apparently she did calm our fussy son, that's got to count for something."
They were silent for a moment. "This time I overreacted," he muttered to himself.
"What?"
"I think I might need to apologize in person."
"Tomorrow," Fox advised. "Let things blow over first."
Meanwhile, Owen was following Molly, who was striding through the corridors.
"Wait –"
She ignored him, not stopping until she got to her living quarters. In her bedroom, she started pulling clothes out of her drawers and tossing them on the bed. He followed her in.
"What are you doing?"
"What does it look like?" She pulled a suitcase out from under the bed. "I'm leaving."
"You're overreacting –"
"Did you see the looks on their faces?"
"It wasn't that bad."
She yanked open another drawer. "Yes it was."
"Stop this, you're not going anywhere."
She turned then, glaring at him. "I don't take orders from you! And there's no magic binding me to these people. I can go where I want, when I want, even if you can't."
She could see that the remark had stung, and she felt a flash of regret. But she was far too proud to apologize to him.
"Yes," he said softly. "You can."
"That's right, I can," she snapped, folding a shirt and placing in the suitcase. Such a mundane task, but then, she probably shouldn't waste her now-limited magic on a simple thing like this.
"I would rather you stayed," he said softly. She looked up at him then.
"Would you?"
"Yes," he said. "Please," he added.
Her eyes widened. She tried to recall the last time he'd used that word with her.
She couldn't.
She let out a sigh. "Maybe I was overreacting. Alright. I'll stay."
"Thank you." They both stood there for a moment, not looking at each other.
"Puck?"
"Yes?"
She moved over to him until they were standing face to face. She touched his hand, briefly, the one she'd healed.
"Missed you too."
He smiled slightly. "Goodnight, then."
"Goodnight," she echoed softly. Their gazes locked and held for a long moment.
Then he turned and left the room.
She let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and started to put her clothes back where they belonged.