“ Ireki,” he said, raising his arms and facing his palms at the doors. The doors did not respond. He said several other incantations, each more obscure than the last, before he finally resolved to use force. The castle was a masterpiece and he hated to destroy any part of it. He stepped away from the entry and said, “ Suntsitu.” The doors shuddered slightly but did not open.
Akil looked over his shoulder. The blaze still swirled within the walls and there was no evidence that she had managed to escape. Returning his attention to the entry, he sent several horse-sized pieces of rock hurtling toward the doors. Each broke upon the doors like waves upon the shore. Everything he had read and heard about Sirens indicated they had little power outside their abilities to ensnare their enemy’s minds. The magic the Siren had used on the doors, however, was extremely advanced and highly foreboding.
After trying several dozen incantations, Akil finally turned away and headed toward the swirling fire inside the stone curtain. He lifted his hands, and the fire immediately extinguished. He then commanded the stone curtain to fall back into the earth from whence it had risen. A charred ring of debris was all that remained. The heat from the fire had been so intense that it had melted the smaller pieces of stone. He saw no evidence of the Siren.
Akil could feel his heart beating faster. A noise from behind made him jump. He quickly turned. The doors to the castle stood open. Cautiously, he approached. Darkness black as sackcloth consumed the interior. Akil stepped to the entry, extended his hands, and sent several light orbs inside. Immediately upon crossing the threshold the orbs disappeared, swallowed by the darkness.
He took a deep breath, readied his mind for whatever lay inside, and stepped into the darkness. As he crossed the threshold, the ink-black air faded until he could see once more. To his surprise, Akil found himself standing in a cave. There was nothing ornate about the interior. Bones, mostly human, were piled on one side. Opposite the bones was a large pile of gold and silver. At the far end of the cave a trunk bound by leather straps sat alone against the wall.
“ Jasoketa deitu,” Akil said, summoning the trunk. It did not move. He stepped farther into the cave, ever mindful that his enemy could be lurking nearby. He quickly covered the distance between himself and the trunk, checking over his shoulder every several steps.
When he was within arm’s length of the trunk, the lid opened. Akil looked around, expecting to see the Siren rushing toward him, but he was alone. He took a step closer and peered inside. On a bed of purple satin sat an ornate pocket watch and single book.. It was the book he had been looking for, the book men of his generation did not believe was still in existence. The book that the Seer had written, detailing the events leading up to the Epoch Terminus and the lineage of the one who could stop it. Again he looked over his shoulder. He saw no sign of the Siren. Slowly, he reached his hand inside the trunk and grasped the leather binding.
Akil felt as if the blood and warmth were draining from his body. His head began to spin, and he fell to his knees. The Siren was correct, he thought, his arrogance would be his undoing. He released the book and turned as he fell to the floor. The Siren, once again perfectly beautiful, walked toward him, her bare feet padding silently on the cave floor. She stood over him with an expression of pity on her face.
“I gave you too much credit, Akil Karanis. In the end, you turned out to be just as greedy as your predecessors. While your treasure may come in a different form, your lust for it is the same. Now you will become my slave.”
The Siren crouched and placed her pale hand on Akil’s forehead. Akil could feel the Siren breaking into his mind. She extracted his thoughts and his memories. One by one, he could feel her sorting through them as if they were socks in a drawer. She appeared to relish the memories that caused Akil the most hurt. The process caused Akil to relive his past as if it were happening over again. The speed at which the emotions passed over his mind was unbearable. He cried out from the loss, laughed from the joy and screamed from the pain practically simultaneously. He felt the memories of his childhood slipping through his mind. When she reached the first memory of his love, everything stopped. Akil refused to let her have this. This belonged to him and him alone. Akil would not share it-even if it killed him.
“Well, it appears as if I’ve found something of value,” the Siren said, sneering.
She redoubled her efforts, but Akil was steadfast in his defense. Frustrated, she pulled her hand away and let out a cry. Too weak to do anything, Akil simply lay there and watched as she paced across the cave floor, her face changing from beautiful to horrible and back to beautiful as she muttered to herself. She stopped and turned, facing Akil. The Siren stepped forward and again placed her hand on his forehead. Again, Akil could feel her digging into his mind. This time she hurriedly passed every memory not taking the time to absorb them until she found the one she was looking for. He felt her pry, trying to unlock the door he had put up to keep her out.
Akil felt a surge of strength from her failure and frustration. He could see her body shaking as she tried and failed to break through the door. In an effort that would either sap the last remaining strength from his body or set him free, Akil sent a burst of energy at the Siren. Not nearly as powerful as the first, she was simply pushed back into the large pile of treasure on the far side of the cave. Seizing the mere seconds of opportunity Akil thrust his hand into the small satchel on his belt and removed a pinch of transporting powder. He threw himself on top of the trunk and tossed the powder into the air over his head. Nothing happened.
A low guttural laugh rose from deep within the Siren as she rose to her feet. “You have promise, Akil Karanis,” she said taking a step forward. “You cannot transport to or from my kingdom. Always has it been. Now, what is it you hide so fervently? Is it more important than this book you’ve sought for much of your life?”
Akil released his grip on the trunk and fell to the ground.
“Do you know who I am?” the Siren asked.
Akil remained supine, looking up at the Siren as she spoke. His body so weak he couldn’t find the strength to lift his head.
“I am Okon ak aintzinako.”
“Impossible,” Akil replied in barley a whisper.
“I was there, Akil. I was there when your so-called Seer made his prediction.”
“Okon ak aintzinako is long dead. You are a deceiver, nothing more.”
“You doubt me, Akil? Have you no desire to know what I know? The true prophecy, the entire prophecy? If you knew the truth, you wouldn’t have wasted your life searching.”
“No,” Akil said, finally finding the strength to lift his head.
“I see doubt in your eyes, Aki Karanis. Fear and doubt.”
“You are a deceiver, nothing more,” said Akil.
“I can prove to you that I speak the truth. First you must allow me into your mind.”
“Never.”
“It is the only way, Akil,” she said in a soothing, motherly voice. “We Sirens cannot create memory orbs like you sorcerers.”
“If I give you my mind, I am powerless against you.”
“Look at yourself, Akil. You lay there like a baby with concerns of powerlessness. You are mine to do with what I wish. I am willing to share with you that what you have sought your entire life yet you refuse.”
“At what cost? It is of no value if I am killed, rendered mindless, or become your slave.”
“Let us then come to a mutually agreed upon resolution, shall we?”
“Since when has a Siren ever suggested a mutually agreed upon resolution?”