The hostility is becoming grating, and I have tired of it very quickly. I understand the preconceived notions they may have about me due to my siren heritage, but I myself have given them no reason to believe they are at risk in my presence. I’m not here to win them over. I just need to make it through the day. When the last plate is taken, the cook wipes his hands on a cloth and looks at me again.
“You eating?”
I hesitate. “If that’s alright. I don’t expect to–”
He shrugs. “You cut. You eat. Easy as that, siren.”
Lark grins like he’s personally responsible for the decision. We eat in silence while the sounds of the ship carry on around us. The bread is a little bit hard, but not moldy. I dip it into the stew, soaking up the thick broth before bringing it to my mouth. It’s simple, but so rich in taste. I don’t realize how fast I’m eating until the bowl is empty. For the first time since I boarded the ship, I don’t feel like I might collapse at any moment.
When we’re done, Lark nudges my elbow carefully.
“Cap’n said after breakfast,” he whispers, eyes bright, visibly excited by the impossible task the captain has given me. “About the Glim.”
I nod. “I heard.”
He straightens, the muscles in his face tightening into a more serious expression. “I know you’ll make it.”
I really hope he’s right.
Grim stands near the main mast as I reach the deck, arms crossed, posture rigid. His gaze flicks over me once, then shifts past me to Lark.
“Better get back to work, lad. Earn your keep,” he instructs, his tone sharp, serious, and Lark immediately hurries away to whatever chores were assigned to him. I know he wanted to see me summon the Glim, even though I told him multiple times that it won’t work like that.
Sable is a few paces away from me.
He’s still without his tricorn, his coat damp at the edges. He stands with his weight planted, his posture high and commanding, like the sea belongs to him and has to argue for every inch. Then his eyes land on me. The familiar cold pins me where I stand, all signs of empathy gone where they had glimmered briefly before.
“Up here, siren,” he says, jerking his chin toward the bow.
I move toward it, and as I pass, a few men fall quiet. The weight of expectation hangs thick in the air, almost suffocating. A crewman mutters something I’d rather not have caught.
“Should’ve let her drown.”
I keep walking.
Sable doesn’t react to the words, his face schooled into a neutral expression. I stop near the bow, where the wind is stronger, and there’s less clutter around us. The sea stretches out ahead, bright and open, painted in pinks, oranges, and turquoise. Coral reefs are visible near the sandbanks surrounding us, reflecting their colors. The water here is shallow and calm—almost too shallow for a vessel of this size.
The captain braces one hand on the rail and looks down at the water, then back at me.
“You’re out of the cell,” he says.
“I noticed,” I answer before I can stop myself.
Something crosses his gaze, then he straightens.
“Don’t confuse it with freedom. You’re here for a purpose.”
“I’m not confused,” I say, because it’s the truth. I don’t mistake this for hospitality or kindness. They want me to fulfill a task. That is all I am here for. His eyes linger on my necklace for a moment, then he looks away, as if he doesn’t care to ask where I got it from.
“You’re a siren, but you steal like a pirate,” he remarks, turning fully toward me. “You know why you’re here. You’re going to bring the Glim back.”
I blink, my fingers curling into loose fists at my sides. “I can’t.”
"I'm not asking if you can do it.” He closes the gap between us in a single step, voice flat. “I’m telling you that you will.”
Heat rises within me, the same heat that always flares when someone tries to claim my magic as their own. I clench my hands harder, nails biting into my palms. He’s no better than the hunters, thinking he has a right to take what isn’t his – what isn’t even mine to give.
“The Glim doesn’t belong to me,” I say, careful to keep my voice even, remembering what the ghost told me. It’s a creationof the sea and will only show up when it must interfere. “It appears when it wants to. When the sea wants it to.”
