Healers Song Ch 07

"What the fuck? One was supposed to knock that bitch out... What is she, some kind of monster?"

She felt another sting, this time in her arm. She reached up and pulled it out. A dart. Tipped with something, most likely. It was making her brain work slowly. She removed the one in her neck also, knowing that it wouldn't stop the poison from spreading through her body. There were men. She had to do something about the men with the darts.

The only song she could remember in her condition was a song of sleep. Sleepiness isn't exactly an emotion, but humans need it, and it was probably the easiest task a Siren could attempt, to increase that need. She sang, hoping her voice wasn't too messed up by the drug. She sounded funny even to her own ears.

But her voice remembered the tones without much help from her brain, and soon, the men who had attacked her were on the floor, soundly asleep. She stumbled down the stairs and out of the inn, still clutching the bag of jewels more by reflex than anything.

She tried to remember where she was going. She had to reach a ship. There was a ship somewhere, and she had to reach it. She walked down the street in the downhill direction, towards the ocean, towards that ship.

There was the ocean. In the faint morning light she could see a ship also, that must be her ship. She stumbled down the beach right into the edge of the water, not even bothering with the dock. The ship was leaving. She had to reach it.

The cold water on her feet sobered her for a bit. The ship wasn't that far out, but she would never be able to climb the side in her robes. She removed them and tied them to her back, then jumped into the water.

Anyone born and raised on a small island is sure to be a strong swimmer. Lisanne was no exception. The cold water shocked her body into awareness, allowing her to reach the ship. She made it over the side, close to the rear of the vessel. She was going to fall asleep now, but she didn't want to do so here. It was too open here. There was a room with a bed. She remembered a room with a bed.

She stumbled down the deck, keeping in the shadows, close to the wall for support. She could hear the voices, commands being shouted, low pitched voices, or so they sounded in her stupor. There was a door ahead. She opened it and went inside, and a rolling motion of the ship pushed her back against it, closing it for her.

Here it was. Her room with a bed. Something was wrong though. It was a different room. She needed to find the other room. She was so tired though. Maybe she should take a nap on this bed first.

She pulled off the bundle of clothing she had tied to her back and started to reach for her robe, but just then, another motion knocked her right onto the bed. It was so soft. Felt so nice. She was getting something, she needed to reach for it, but she was so sleepy...

Derek always enjoyed being out at sea, the wind, the salt spray, the gentle rolling motions of the ship, and today was no exception. They were making good time to Lede, should be there by midday tomorrow at the latest, where he would pick up his next load of supplies to bring to Insula. He was glad to be back on schedule. Considering he was the only ship that could dock at Insula to bring back the fabled silk of the Sirens, and he had been out of commission for at least a month while chasing after Kali and her friends, he had merchant customers that were screaming at him. And it was good to know the Sirens were safe. Life was good.

Taking one last look at the moon, reflected in wavering patches on the calm sea water, he crossed the deck toward his room, planning to turn in for the night. He opened the door, stopping dead as a patch of moonlight fell on his bed. There was a naked woman laying there.

Now Derek was a handsome man. Many a woman in many a port had been bewitched by his crystal blue eyes and, and he knew exactly what it was like to have a woman throw herself at him. This, however, was a first.

He hurried inside and shut the door, lighting an oil lamp so he could study her better. She lay curled up on her side, one arm underneath her head and the other crossed over her breasts, dangling off the bed as if she were reaching for him. A mass of dark golden ringlets spilled onto the blankets around her. Her face was serene and her skin was pale pink, tinted gold by the flickering lamp light.

Her face. That was the first clue that the truth of the situation might not be quite as flattering as he had thought. It was the same Siren from last night. Then he saw the bundle of clothing on the floor underneath her outstretched hand. He stepped forward and touched her face lightly. Her skin was ice cold.

A moment of panic, quelled when he saw her sides moving rhythmically and heard her soft, steady breathing. To the eye, she appeared to be nothing more than fast asleep. He shook her shoulder. She kept right on sleeping. She made no sound as he kept shaking her, trying to get her to wake. When he slapped her cheek gently, she made a soft sigh and grabbed his hand with her tiny cold fingers.

A moment later, he had managed to get her underneath the blankets, and had wrapped his warm body around her. Not that it was helping much. Her skin still felt as ice cold as ever. He wondered, not for the first time, how on earth she wound up here, on his ship, and why she appeared to be simply sleeping, yet wouldn't wake up. Her ice cold flesh he could imagine was due to probably being wet in the slightly chilly room and laying atop the covers all day. But that didn't quite answer his other questions. Nor did wondering about all this help him warm her cold body.

Her hands were starting to feel a bit less cold as he clasped them in his own. The rest of her he didn't seem to be able to help much. He wondered if the fabric of his night shirt was blocking the heat from entering her. Ah well, it was worth a try. He removed the night shirt, curling around her again, trying to shake the distinct feeling that when morning came tomorrow he'd get clobbered for this.