The island begins to drift backward from us. First the planks, then the clustered buildings and the jagged line of rocks guarding the beach. I watch until the island is nothing more than a tiny rock lurking out of the water, the same way it was when we arrived two days ago.
Sable straightens at the helm, eyes narrowing toward the open water as the Noctis surges forward, cutting clean through the dark sea.
The island fades fully into fog.
I draw a slow breath through my nose. Salted air floods my lungs. The siren inside me is at ease, sleeping beneath my skin, and that makes me trust I am on the right path. As I make my way across the deck, I make sure not to be in anyone’s way. Most of the men don’t acknowledge that I’m there. Others nod, or even manage what looks like the hint of a smile. Then there are men like Rat.
On the opposite side of the boards, he leans against the railing, one boot braced behind him. His arms are crossed, his posture loose, almost careless. He doesn’t bother looking away when oureyes meet. There is no curiosity in his gaze. Just hatred. Bare and unfiltered, hatred.
His stare bores into me until my chest grows heavy with the weight of it. I force myself to stay still, keeping my shoulders relaxed. Rat doesn’t move. He only watches, his shadow stretched at his feet in the light.
Something inside me vibrates, like a string plucked within me. It’s the siren. She stirs, alert now, reacting to the threat in front of me.
Cruel.
I am the one who looks away first, turning back toward the sea. I feel his eyes on my back as I walk away. When I reach the bow of the ship, I lean my body against the railing and let my eyes wander over the uneven surface of the water. I force myself to take deep breaths and let the salty air fill my lungs once again. I don’t need to see my eyes in the reflection of the water to know they are misted and white.
In the dark water, it is easy to make out the thread of silver that leads us toward unknown seas. I distract myself by tracing its every movement beneath the waves. It looks hurried now, almost frantic as it jumps from crest to crest.
Still, the siren in me does not settle. She stays awake, humming low beneath my ribs. I know it’s only a matter of time until she finally snaps.
Hours pass slowly, dragging me into the middle of the seemingly endless night. The singing and shuffling of the crew above the planks has ceased, and what remains is the sound of the water rushing against the hull in a steady rhythm. As I lie here, struggling to sleep, I wonder if it might be more productive to seek out the ghost. Perhaps he can tell me more about the curse, seeing as Sable seems reluctant to do so. I push myself upward and swing my legs over the edge of the hammock, set my feet on the wooden floor, and tiptoe to the stairs. I bet he’s out on the deck.
With the hatch halfway open, I peer out and scan the deck. The moonlight paints the boards and the railing in dark shades of purple and blue. It lays a thin sheen across the waves, turning their crests silver before they collapse again, melting into the sea.
I push against the heavy piece of wood and step onto the deck. I inspect the deck, the railings, the mast, sighing when I do not find him.
No ghost.
A faint tension settles between my shoulders. I roll one shoulder, then the other, trying to shake it loose, but find no release. The tension turns into a humming within me that vibrates through my body, the same kind of effect a throbbing wound has. The siren in me hasn’t gone quiet since earlier. She lingers just beneath the surface, like she’s waiting for something. Biding her time.
I scan the deck again, slower this time, and make my way toward the bow. At least I can distract myself and watch the Glim lead the ship. Something about it puts me at ease, knowing that it is bringing me where I need to be, no matter where that might be.
I close my hands around the railing—
And freeze.
Heavy footsteps make the wood squeak behind me. My pulse picks up, pumping blood through me so hard that it rushes in my ears. The ghost doesn’t make any sound.
Slowly, I turn around, curling both hands around the railing behind me, bracing myself.
It’s Rat.
He stands half in shadow, half caught by the moonlight spilling across the deck. Way too close. The light carves his face into sharp planes and hollows his cheeks, like the shape of his skull is pressing too close beneath his skin. Eyes glinting, he lifts his head.
“You shouldn’t have boarded the ship again, siren.”
He spits the word siren like it’s an insult. I keep my shoulders still, refusing to look afraid and give him the reaction he wants.
The space between us narrows as he takes another step toward me. My breathing comes in shallow waves as I search the deck around us, hoping someone will appear and step in.
“I am not your enemy,” I swallow. “All I want is to survive. To help you.”
A vicious smile tugs at his lips. “Help us?”
“To break the curse,” I state, my voice no longer as steady as I want it to be. The throbbing and humming within me becomes unbearable. Sweat starts to bead on my skin, making me shiver in the night’s cool air.
“Don’t you know?” Another step closer. “We are already doomed. But I know what could help…”
