"The breathing potion," she said finally, all business now. "It will allow your human to breathe underwater for eight hours at a time. She'll be able to swim with you, dive with you, see all the wonders you want to show her. The pressure won't crush her. The cold won't kill her. She'll be as comfortable in the deep as you are."
"And the price?" I asked, bracing myself.
The witch smiled, and this time there was no cruelty in it—just ancient, weary amusement. "The price. Always the price. You creatures never want to pay, but you always come asking anyway." She drifted to a shelf carved into the cave wall, lined with bottles and vials of every shape and color. Her fingers, too long, too jointed, trailed over them until she found what she was looking for: a small bottle filled with liquid that glowed faintly blue.
"For the potion," she said, turning back to us, "I want a memory." Vale and I exchanged glances. A memory. That could mean anything—could be nothing, could be everything.
"What kind of memory?" I asked carefully.
"A happy one." The witch's black eyes fixed on mine, unblinking. "Your happiest memory, pack leader. The moment of purest joy you've ever experienced. I'll take it from your mind, and you'll never feel it again. You'll remember that it happened, but the emotion will be gone. Like a painting with all the color drained out."
My happiest memory. I thought of my pack, Riven's fierce loyalty, Vale's sharp humor, Thane's gentle warmth. I thought of the hunts we'd shared, the kills we'd celebrated, the centuries of swimming these waters together. None of those were my happiest memory. Not anymore. My happiest memory was three days old. A girl in the water, oxygen running out, looking at me with wonder instead of fear. A pearl pressed into my palm. A wave—silly, human, perfect.
"No." The word came out strangled. "Not that one. Anything but that."
The witch's smile widened. "Ah. So it's her, then. Your happiest moment involves the little human." She laughed softly. "You really are lost, aren't you? Already so tangled up in her that you can't bear to lose even a memory of her."
"Ask for something else." Vale stepped forward, his beautiful face hard with determination. "Take one of my memories instead. Take my voice for two days. Take whatever you want from me, but not his memories of her."
The witch studied him for a long moment, her tentacle-hair writhing thoughtfully.
"Your voice for a couple of days," she repeated slowly, her black eyes gleaming with sudden interest. "The famous voice of Vale, the singer, the lurer. Do you know what I could do with a voice like yours, even for two days?"
She drifted closer to him, her tentacle-hair reaching out to taste the water around his throat.
"I could lure a dozen ships onto the rocks," she breathed, her voice thick with hunger. "A hundred sailors, walking willingly into the deep, drawn by the most beautiful voice in all the seas. I could feast for months on what your voice could bring me in two days time." Her smile widened, showing all those needle-sharp teeth. "The Voice of Vale, singing my song instead of yours. How many humans do you think would die, pretty one? How many would follow that sound into the dark and never surface again?"
Vale's jaw tightened, but he didn't waver. Didn't look away. "That's not my concern."
"Isn't it?" The witch laughed, delighted. "Oh, you really are monsters, aren't you? You'd let me slaughter a shipful of humans, men, women, perhaps even children, just to keep your pack leader's precious memory intact?"
"They're not our humans," I said flatly. "They're not her. Whatever you do with his voice, whatever sailors you lure to their deaths—that's your business. As long as it doesn't touch our omega, we don't care." The witch stared at me for a long moment, something like respect flickering in those bottomless black eyes.
"How refreshingly honest," she murmured. "Most creatures who come to me pretend to have morals. Pretend to care about the cost their bargains extract from others. But you..." She circled me slowly, assessing. "You don't even bother with the pretense. You'd let the world burn as long as your little human stays warm."
"Yes," I said simply. There was no point in lying. We were sirens. We'd killed more humans than we could count, lured countless ships to their doom, feasted on flesh and fear for centuries. The lives of strangers meant nothing to us.
Only she mattered now.
"The memory would be gone forever," Vale added, his voice hard with determination. "Whatever you take from him, he'dnever get back. My voice will return after two days. And whoever you kill with it..." He shrugged, elegant and dismissive. "They were going to die eventually anyway. Humans always do."
The witch laughed again, a real laugh this time, surprised and almost delighted.
"Oh, this is even better than I hoped. Four sirens, brought to their knees by a single human girl, and yet still so wonderfully ruthless about everyone else." She shook her head, tentacles swaying. "Fine. I'll take your voice for two full days, singer. From moonrise to moonrise, it will be mine to use as I please. And I will use it." Her black eyes glittered with anticipation. "There's a merchant vessel passing through the northern straits between tonight and tomorrow depending if they stop or not. Rich cargo. Fat sailors. They'll hear the most beautiful song they've ever known, and they'll follow it straight into my waiting arms."
"Done," Vale said without hesitation.
"Vale—" I started, not because I cared about the sailors, but because I needed him to be certain.
"It's fine." He cut me off, his sharp smile returning, cold and certain. "A few dead humans mean nothing. Your memory of her, that first moment, the pearl, that means everything. I won't let you lose that."
The witch extended her hand, the potion bottle balanced on her palm. With her other hand, she reached for Vale's throat.
"This will feel... unpleasant," she warned, and then her fingers pressed against his skin. Vale gasped, his body going rigid, his eyes rolling back in his head. I lunged forward, but the witch held up a hand and some invisible force stopped me in my tracks.
"Patience, pack leader. I'm not hurting him. Just... borrowing." Light flickered between her fingers and Vale's throat, blue-white and cold, like lightning trapped underwater.Vale's mouth opened in a silent scream, and then it was over. He slumped forward, gasping, his hand going to his throat.
When he tried to speak, no sound came out.
