That was the beginning of our final battle. A war waged through papers submitted to the council, the rumor mill of Dennow, and an endless river of payments made from my purse directly to him forhispain.
“I knew the council would finally come around.” Emily leans away and looks back toward the bar where Father is serving tonight’s lone customer. “We have to tell Pa.”
“Now isn’t—” I don’t get a chance to tell her the rest. She’s bounding from the seat, racing over to the bar, slamming into it with raw enthusiasm.
“Pa, Vic is finally free!” Emily bursts with the news.
My father stills, eyes drifting over to me. A soft sigh turns into a slight smile. His shoulders relax, as if a weight has been lifted, which only causes mine to go more rigid. He looks relieved. Happy, at a glance, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
My parents’ love story is one for the ages. A house filled with fondness, ripened, not soured, by distance and time as Father looked after us and Mother traveled. They’ve always supported me and Emily, without question…but I can’t stop myself from wondering if part of them has grown ashamed of the path I’ve walked. Of the scandal and heartache I’ve brought upon our name.
Which is why I’ve worked to be the best captain Tenvrath has ever known. To bring pride. As if, somehow, that could outweigh the shame.
“The council nullified—”
“That is most excellent news,” Father cuts off Emily with a glance to the customer.
The man at the bar slowly shifts to face me. His eyes widen slightly as if seeing me for the first time. I resist the urge to cover the tattoo on my forearm. The strange marking is as known throughout Dennow as my name.
I don’t hide. Instead, a coy smile slides across my lips and I sink my chin into my palm. Somewhere between smug and sultry. My confidence makes them all the angrier.
The stranger scoffs at me, eyes shadowed with disapproval. I blow him a kiss. Without another word, he leaves. At least this customer dropped some coins on the bar first.
I am the best captain that there ever was…with the worst reputation. I’d be more loved in Tenvrath if I were a murderer than as an oath breaker.
Yet, when my eyes return to Father’s, he’s smiling. There isn’t a trace of resentment. Of anger. My family’s unflinching compassion only deepens the guilt I try so hard to hide.
“I think this calls for a round on the house.” Father turns back to the tapped kegs, filling a flagon to the brim. “Vic, mind closing up?”
“Isn’t it a bit early for that?” I ask as I somehow manage to stand despite the weight of the judgment in my pocket nearly gluing me to the seat.
“Hardly.” Father puts a flagon on the bar and motions to the empty tavern before he begins filling the next one. “It’s not as if we have many customers tonight.”
Not tonight…or any night. If not for my crew, my father’s dream of owning his own business would’ve long since died. Perhaps my disappearance will be a boon to them. When I’m dead, I can’t tarnish their reputation any longer.
“I’ll get it, then.” I run my fingers over my inked forearm as I head for the front.
I spent years searching for information. For any word or clue as to what siren magic was used on me that night so that I could better harness it. If it has helped me so much throughout the years passively, what could I do with this power if I wielded it? I could be a sorceress of the seas. I could show Charles a sliver of the fear he instilled in me and my family. I would curse his name as he’s cursed mine. Worse.
I became a sailor thinking that I might meet the siren again. To learn how to use the power or, perhaps, barter better for my life.
But all the rumors of the sirens are of monsters. Every whisper and bit of lore is of beasts that ravage the seas. And, in all my years on the ocean, I never saw another siren. That, too, is part of the magic, I’ve decided. To be immune to the calls of his people. This mysterious power and protection he gave me is immense in its abilities.
And yet I still could never harness it well enough to free me from Charles. I ball my hands into fists. If I were only stronger…
Before I step outside, I pack my ears with cotton. I learned long ago that it isn’t necessary for me, but I do it anyway for appearances. The only siren songs that have any effect on me are the ones sung inhisvoice. Whispering in the back of my mind almost every night. Tingling across my skin whenever I run my fingers over the marking he left on me like a calling card.
Goosebumps dot the flesh of my forearm, rising around the tattoo, at the thought of him. I ignore it and pry open the heavy door of the tavern, stepping outside onto the Dennow docks. The familiar, worn sandwich board in all its peeling paint is only a few steps from the door. It reads:
TILTED TABLE TAVERN.
BEST ALE IN DENNOW.
Father’s brewingskills are truly a force to be reckoned with and once I’m gone all of Dennow will finally realize it. Mother’s trading has increased tenfold since I became a captain—I can only imagine what will happen when my reputation no longer is a reason for some to hold back. The job I managed to get Em with the Tenvrath Council is stable and steady and I’m sure they’ll love her even more when they no longer have to deal with me.
They should have been fine after I was gone. But now I owe twenty thousand crons. More than I’ve ever seen in my life. More than the total mortgage of the Tilted Table. More than all the vessels in the entire fleet for the Applegate Trading Company.
I won’t let my family bear that burden.
