Beneath The Waves

(12) Modern Technology, Medieval Jail

Chapter 12

                Frankie flicked through what felt like her fiftieth book in as many minutes, surging with irritation and desperation. There was nothing – nothing – on how victims could be saved from the Sirens. There were ways of preventing attacks, but they just frustrated Frankie even more. It was a little too late for that.

Frankie groaned loudly, causing several hawk-eyed librarians arranging books to glare at her. She thumped her head on the table, closing her eyes as she rested her forehead on the cool, smooth wood. This wasn’t exactly how she would’ve chosen to spend her Saturday morning, despite how much she loved the library.

“You look like you’re having fun.”

Frankie glanced up, peering over a tottering pile of books to see Ryan heading towards her, grinning his usual carefree grin. She smiled, a little ruefully, in response.

“Having the time of my life,” she remarked, as he slumped casually in a seat near her. “Where were you? I got here like, an hour ago.”

“Sorry. Slept late.” Ryan sat up and plucked a book off the top of a pile. “This looks like a fun read.” He rifled through the thick, yellowy pages and coughed dramatically at the dust that puffed out like a cloud of midges. Frankie giggled reluctantly.

“Lucky for you, I already checked that.” She passed him one from a pile on her right. “You can try this one.”

“Greek Myths and Legends.” Ryan opened it to the index but didn’t look down. “You found a hell of a lot of books on Sirens.”

“Some of them don’t even mention them,” Frankie informed him, wrinkling her nose in irritation. “And I haven’t found a single one that mentions saving people from Sirens. Not a single one.”

“Guess that’s not the thing that comes up most,” Ryan agreed quietly. “I’ll get Noah, back though. Or die trying.”

“Don’t say that.” She knew he didn’t mean it literally, but it still bothered her. “There’ll be some... reasonable way.”

“A reasonable way to get my brother back from the Sirens,” Ryan said flatly, and Frankie smiled reluctantly.

“Yeah, when you put it like that, it doesn’t sound too likely.”

Ryan glanced down at the index page, clearly not reading it. “Can you still not see anything in the future about it? Whether we’ll find him, if we can get him back?”

Frankie shook her head regretfully. “Trust me, it drives me crazy too. I can only see the useless stuff. Lewis Hamilton wins the grand prix,” she informed him glumly.

Ryan’s head shot up, eyes wide. “Spoiler alert! I was gonna watch that.”

Frankie giggled at his reaction. “Right. Sorry.”

She looked down to begin reading, but Ryan was still talking. “How does it work, exactly? If I ask you to try and see something in the future, could you do it?”

“Sometimes. Not everything.” She skimmed a few paragraphs, but they were all basic explanations of Sirens. She turned to the next page. “What d’you want to know?”

She felt the Flash come to her a second after the words had left her mouth, and she lifted her head, answering her own question. “Wait. You want to know when your ex girlfriend will take you back.”

Ryan blinked at her, his mouth open slightly. “Wow. That was creepy as hell.”

Frankie smiled. “Sorry. It creeps my uncle out too, and he doesn’t even know about the whole psychic thing.” She glanced down at the page again.