“But don't wander far, little fish. You remember what you promised me earlier?”
I dip my head in agreement and slip through the crowd toward the door. Someone spits the words “siren whore” as I pass by, but I shake it off as nothing more than a heated insult. Cool night air greets me the moment I step outside, cutting through the haze in my head. With the door swinging shut behind me, the tavern noises become distant and muffled.
Drawing in a deep breath, I realize I had a little too much rum. When the lights from the lanterns swaying in the breeze above begin to blur, I lean against the stone wall of the tavern, trying to anchor myself. Nearby, pirates lean against crooked walls and sit on overturned barrels, tankards dangling loosely from their fingers while they shout over one another or stagger between the buildings in uneven lines. It is still very much crowded and very much chaotic.
“Look there,” a voice mutters somewhere to my right.
Another answers with a snort. “That’s the captain's little siren,” he snarls.
“Disgusting,” another one says and spits on the stones near my feet.
Within the blink of an eye, the alcohol vanishes from my veins. It was foolish of me to allow myself into such an inebriated state. So foolish to once again forget how dangerous it is to look like me in a place like this.
Glancing back toward the tavern, I hesitate. The doorway is no longer clear. More bodies have gathered, pirates spilling out into the streets. A few of them already look my way, their attention fully on me as the murmurs begin to spread. Going back would mean walking straight into them.
I lower my head and start walking past the other pirates, in an attempt to get away. If Sable follows me as he said, I am sure he will find me. And even if he doesn’t, I can’t spend any other second breathing the same air as them. The last thing I want is to lose control and break my promise.
My feet carry me downhill as fast as they allow me, away from the lights and the noise. Their eyes follow me as I move deeper into the paths of the village, the muttered words trailing wet and slippery behind me like eels.
“Her eyes—“
“Creature—“
“Monster.”
My hands curl loosely at my sides, nails pressing lightly into my palms as I remind myself again and again that losing control here would be worse than any insult they can throw. I promised Sable not to use my voice. Not even a whisper. A flicker of guilt passes through me, one I would rather ignore. He also told me not to wander far, yet here I am, wandering away.
The street begins to slope downward as I move farther from the harbor square. The paths grow quieter, but still, the pressure inside my chest refuses to ease. The siren in me doesn’t like the fear that pulses through me. She is restless, turning beneath my skin, begging me to set her free. My throat tightens, and I swallow hard, forcing my lungs into calm, steady breaths, but my thoughts continue circling, like gulls taking to the air above a ship.
In the distance, there’s the long hush of waves breaking. Somewhere beyond the houses, the tide breathes against the shore.
Come to me, the sea whispers.
Without thinking, I follow its call. Each step towards it loosens something in my chest, yet my pulse still beats faster than it should. It is only until the sand cools my soles and the waterwashes over my ankles that I can catch a clear thought. I let the sound of the gentle waves fill the empty space in my mind, letting it wash over the anger still tangled in my chest until it begins to soften.
I close my eyes and draw in a slow breath, when suddenly, the water ripples a few yards out. The siren inside of me goes very still. The ripples form again. I snap my head up to follow the movement.
Eyes rise from the dark water and fix on me, unblinking. My breath catches in my throat as I catch a glint of a tail beneath the surface, the familiar slow movement sending a sharp ache through my chest.
My heart lurches. I know what is watching me from afar.
The siren is calm, her movements in the water barely noticeable. Her eyes look like mine, white and foggy, split clean down the middle by a dark, narrow slit, watching me without blinking.
I am rooted in the spot as she stares me down, and I stare right back. Someone without my eyesight probably wouldn’t even have noticed the creature lurking beneath the water.
Then, ever so slowly, she lets her body drift towards the shore, edging closer. Her head tilts slightly to the side as she examines me carefully. There are gills at the side of her throat, scales that scatter along her collarbones up to her temples. They’re in the same shades of grey as her magnificent, long tail, making her almost invisible in the surrounding water.
“You’re far from the currents,” she whispers in a soft, soothing voice. “Why do you walk among them?”
I forget how to breathe for a beat too long as recognition glints in her eyes. She knows what I am. She can see it in me.
“We follow the Glim,” I whisper as I carefully glance to both sides, ensuring no one is watching us. “It’s the sea’s will.”
“Mh.” She drifts through the water again, this time even closer, until her pale shoulders rise and her hair is slicked back against her head. “And you trust them?”
There’s the strain of judgment in her soft voice, and the pity hits my face sharply.
“I don’t have a choice,” I explain, “I have nowhere else to go.”
