It’s hard to tell exactly what direction the sun is moving. The surface isn’t that far—close enough that I could swim for it on one breath, if I’d taken one. But at this time of day it’s almost directly overhead, and the light through the waves is playing tricks with my eyes. So far as I can guess, east is still east here in this other land of Midscape.
I reach for my compass to check. My hand hits the empty pocket on my thigh that’s usually reserved for it.
It’s gone. It sank with my ship. My compass was the first thing I ever truly bought for myself. It helped me find my way for almost five years… Now, I must find my own direction.
There aren’t many sirens swimming over the estate. I could start heading west. If I go west long enough, I should make it home, right? But his warnings about fading away… I saw what happened with my shirt.
Maybe running isn’t the best idea yet, but I can get a better sense of this place, at least. I push off the shell-crusted floor and expect to glide past the whale bones. But I am stopped short.
Two invisible hands clutch my torso, shoulders, and face from behind, pulling me back. I choke on instant panic that rises up in my throat. Hands on me, forcing me to stay. Forcing me down.
I’m suddenly aware of the lack of air. I want to breathe.Breathe!Feel air moving through my lungs and bringing with it life-sustaining calm.
The ocean around me suddenly feels so vast, so immense. On its surface, I could move as freely as the wind. I had the power to go anywhere and do anything. But the siren whose magic freed me now traps me. The water is almost too heavy. Alive. It is pushing me down. Pulling me back. The measured calm I’ve worked to maintain is fracturing.Calm under pressure, just like on the ship. But the thought only feeds into my guilt.
My ship is gone, crew dead, my family is at risk, and I am trapped. For the first time in nearly five years I cannot escape. I will be kept here forever. The feeling of Charles’s hands wrapping around my torso. Even here in the siren’s domain, he exists within me, clutching me so tightly that I can’t breathe… That’s why there’s no air. Why—
Calm, Victoria, he’s gone. He can’t reach you now.
I close my eyes and still myself. My mind is a vortex, a relentless spiral that whorls further and further down. No matter how far I go. Or how fast I get there. A part of him continues to come with me—to haunt me.
I ball my hands into fists and willfully banish the thoughts. Charles found out what happens when someone tries to tie me down. This siren has no idea what’s coming for him.
* * *
My skin is raw.At first, I rubbed and scratched to try and see if the markings would come off. I didn’t suspect they would, as they never have, but it never hurts to check. Then, I kept rubbing and scratching because of a new, strange phenomena—whenever my skin is broken, it magically knits before even a drop of blood can be spilled.
More magic than flesh.
I try every archway of whale bones. I try to scratch away the lacy markings carved into them, thinking that’s what is keeping me here. There’s little I can do, but I try it all—dozens of times, in dozens of ways. But each time I’m yanked back by the invisible leash that’s been placed upon me.
Dusk has been inked across the top of the waves. Filtered through the ocean blue, it’s become beams of honey fading into ambient light that coats everything in a misty orange hue. The sky is as angry as I feel.
It’s been a long time since I spent so many hours pacing, lost in my thoughts. Well, not quite pacing…treading water in circles? Any awkwardness I felt about being completely submerged has vanished. Twelve hours of nothing to do other than swim, float, and drift has made it all seem completely normal.
I wait up for Ilryth to return as promised. I’ve gone days without solid rest before. Sleeping regularly isn’t a luxury a ship captain always has. So, I’m trained for it. I’ll be fine and manage to be sharp when I need to be. At least for a few nights.
But, usually, when I don’t sleep on my ship it’s because my crew needs me. It’s because the ship is being thrown by waves almost as large as the vessel itself—because nature is challenging me, testing the magic I possessed and seeing if it could thwart my will. And if it is my mind that is in a torrent on a calm sea then there’s always something I can do to occupy my hands.
Being wide awake but lacking anything to do other thanwaitmakes every second feel like an entire minute. Hours creep like days. All my thoughts catch up to me.
My crew is dead…because of me.
Their faces haunt me, over and over. I know if Jivre were here, she would flash me her lopsided grin and tell me not to feel guilty. She’d say, “Victoria, we are all men and women grown, we made the choice to sail with you of sound mind and body. We knew the risks and reaped the benefits time and again. You cannot accept responsibility for the choices we made.”
But Jivre is not here, and those hypothetical words are faint in the back of my mind. Easily countered by my racing thoughts. By the hot and cold that washes over me like sickness.
I shouldn’t have made the north run. But if I hadn’t, I would’ve doomed my family. I shouldn’t have tried to end my marriage to Charles. But, if I didn’t, he would’ve continued going after my family. Even if I can’t be certain what would’ve come to pass, I know his relentless cruelty.
Just as I know one thing for sure, I should have never married him. If I hadn’t, who knows what my life might have looked like. I probably wouldn’t be here now.
There’s no possible way of knowing what could’ve been. I will drive myself mad, walking—swimming—in circles as I turn my thoughts over and over. As if I could look at all these concerns and problems from a new direction and think,Aha, that’s the answer, that’s the right course. That’s what I should have done.
But I’ll never know if what I did was right or wrong, and that’s the hardest part of it all. That’s what my mind can’t seem to let go of.What if?Those two words have haunted me my whole life, and all I can do is run; when I’m still they’re able to catch up.
I try to think forward—of what will come next. I’ve been on the move for five years, always pushing ahead. Always striving. I can’t stop now. I can’t fix the problems of the past; I can’t make different choices. I can only think of what I’ll do next. Keep moving. Forward. Next thing.Next thing…
When Ilryth comes back, I’ll ask for more information on this magic. No, freedom first. Then maybe I can bargain with him, once I have knowledge of what powers I hold.
