I turned my eyes to Aeris again. She was a bit difficult to read. Dahlia’s face constantly changed, betraying her emotions, to me at least, but Aeris donned a mask that kept her hidden from prying eyes.
“I know Dahlia might seem a menace, and she is, but she won’t hurt anyone on my crew, including you,” I assured.
“We spoke. I understand now.”
“Do you?”
“I think all three of us defy your previous views on sirens. It stands to reason that Dahlia would defy my previous views on Kroans.”
“Oh, no,” Mullins cut in. “Kroans are still the bane of all our existence. But Dahlia’s special. That one there?” he pointed at Lyla’s cage. “She ain’t part of this crew. I’m just waiting for the word.”
“Dahlia’s the one who will give that word,” I said. “No one else.”
“She’s hardly Kroan,” Meridan said under her breath.
“What’s that?”
“Lyla. She’s hardly Kroan.”
“Dahlia said they were sisters.”
She shrugged. “Doesn’t mean she’s anything like her. She’s a mimic. Like the Kraal.”
“What’s the Kraal?”
“Another myth come to life. A scary story all sirens know. They don’t have a voice like Kroans do. Not anymore. They have other tricks that lure unwilling victims. They can mimic any voicethey hear. Make you think a loved one is calling for help or a child is dying. Anything to make you bend for them.”
She scanned all our eyes and when she realized we were waiting for more, she took a deep breath as if preparing for something taxing.
“Dahlia was meant to explain all this,” she sighed. “I only know what she’s told me.”
“She explained the voices,” I said. “But where did they come from, these Kraal? How are they different?”
“How do we kill them?” Nazario asked.
“They can die like any of us, but you’ll need sharper blades. Their skin is thick and their bones dense. They live in the trenches alongside the sons.”
She looked over all of us again, her face lit up by the orange fire like she was a gorgeous demon standing over the flames of Hell. She was beautiful in the same, otherworldly sense that most sirens were, but the pale monotone of her features set her apart. It made her appealingly horrifying. It was no wonder the Naros relied on their appearance to attract victims.
“You all think Kroans are the worst,” she continued. “They’re vicious and they’re committed to an entity that demands obedience and sacrifice and violence. But there is yet one other clan more fiercely loyal to a father we cannot see and the elders always said that they would return one day.”
“A people more terrifying than the Kroans?” Mullins asked with a gulp.
“TheywereKroan. Long before I was born. Before any of us were born. They declared themselves more loyal—more suited for the depths and the father’s affection—than any other clan. They believed themselves so worthy that they did not wait for a summons. They willingly descended into Akareth’s trenches to be near him and they bred, not with the father, for he chooses his brides. They were not chosen, so they bred with his sons. For decades, they remained, breeding… feeding. What they became was grotesque. They were never accepted back into the clans so they became their own. The Kraal, they called themselves. It means ‘hand.’ It is what they believe they are. The hand of Akareth. Wicked creatures who went so mad in their search for him that they even resorted to cannibalizing each other when the next generations thought the prior were too weak. Too unworthy. All the feeding and mating with monsters made them what they are today. What we saw glimpses of near Dornwich. Creatures bare of hair. Of reason. And we heard them. Their voices are familiar, but they’re a lie.”
Despite the humid warmth of the island, it felt as if someone had poured ice water down my back and I could tell by the faces of those around me that they were feeling it, too. I glanced at the moonlit water of the stream nearby. The way the night had turned it black like glass slate only reminded me of the sea where the fiends prowled beneath the tides.
“Nothing about the water can be trusted,” Nazario muttered, taking a small sip of rum. “Even the waves these days sound like whispers luring us closer.”
“It goes without saying that we will be sleeping in shifts from now on,” I sighed. “Half the crew awake while the other half rests. We might be inland, but we cannot let our guards down.”
“There’s no need to fear Kraal this far from the water,” Meridan added. “They have lost their ability to shift.”
“Lyla shifts.”
“Lyla is not Kraal. Nor is she Kroan. I am not sure what she is.”
“Wonderful,” I grumbled. “And she is contained by a mere set of bars. My order stands. Someone will always be keeping watch.”
