The ship rocks faster and faster as time goes on. Coming up on a storm is like getting into an argument. There are a few warning signs. Things heat up. But then there’s a jump. The storm hits you before you’re ready. And then you’re too far in to do anything about it except get through it.
Everything is loud. There’s nothing to hear except the wind and waves. Nothing to feel except the bitter cold. I put on the heaviest coat I own to ward off the bitterness. Every once in a while, I think I catch a shout from above deck. But that could easily be an echo of the wind.
I have to resort to sitting on the floor. My chair can’t be trusted not to tip. Enwen sits as well. He pulls something out of his pocket: a string of beads. Maybe pearls.
Kearan starts snoring. I know he must have some affliction of the sinuses, because I can hear him over the storm. He jerks awake suddenly. “Give that back.”
Enwen must see the strange look I shoot Kearan. He explains, “He talks in his sleep a lot.”
Kearan rubs at his eyes. “This is a nasty one. Might tip us over.”
Enwen extends his pearls. “No, it won’t. I’ve got our protection right here.”
“I feel so reassured.”
“You should. Storms are a dangerous time to be about. Some men say this is the time when the unpleasant seafolk come roaming out of their underwater domains.”
“You mean the sirens,” I say.
“Surely, I do. They like to hide in the waves. You can’t see them in the water when the sea is boiling and tumbling and all, but they’re down there. Kicking and pounding at the boat, helping the storm take us under. They want us. Want to eat our flesh, make necklaces out of our teeth, and hollow out our bones to make instruments to aid their song.”
“Bloody poetic,” Kearan says. “And a load of rubbish. Anyone ever tell you, you can’t be hurt by something you don’t believe in?”
Realization lights up Enwen’s eyes. “That’s why everything is out to get me.”
I hide a smile behind one hand while Kearan tugs a flask out.
Sirens have worked up quite the reputation throughout time. They are considered the deadliest creatures known to man. Storytellers in taverns share tales of women of extreme beauty who live in the sea, searching for ships to wreck, men to eat, and gold to steal. A siren’s song can enchant a man to do anything. The creatures sing to sailors, promising them pleasure and wealth if they will jump into the sea. But those who do, find neither.
Once a siren has a hold upon you, she will not let go. She carries her sailor with her all the way to the bottom of the sea, where she has her way with him. Then she steals all of his valuables and leaves him to float in the abyss.
There are many myths surrounding sirens. Most no one knows fact from fiction. But this part I do know. All the sirens throughout the centuries have carried their stolen treasures to an island, Isla de Canta. There can be found the wealth of history, treasures beyond imagination.
This is what my father seeks. This is why I’m here. This is what I’ve been prepared for: stealing another piece of the map.
Each of the three pieces was passed down from father to son for generations. One traveled down the Allemos line, eventually falling into Jeskor’s hands, possibly now Draxen’s. Another down the Kalligan line, now safeguarded by my father. And the last belongs to the Serad family. Vordan will be in possession of that one.
With the three pieces united, the bearer will be able to find the legendary Isla de Canta. Island of Song. Also called the Land of the Singing Women.
“There aren’t any sirens out there,” I say to Enwen. “If there were, you’d already be enchanted to jump overboard. Do you hear any music?”
“No, because the storm’s blocking it.”
“So the storm’s a good thing?”
“Yes—no. I mean…” Enwen wrestles with that for a moment.
Enwen and even Kearan seem too anxious to sleep tonight. Even a man who’s spent his whole life at sea has reason to fear her when she’s angry.
But not I. I sleep soundly. Listening to her music. The sea watches over me.
She protects her own.
Chapter 5
THE NEXT FEW DAYS and nights pass in much the same way. During the day, Riden comes down to question me. We poke and prod at each other, trying to get answers. Rarely does anything come of it. He also brings me my meals, but aside from that, I’m always left alone in my cell, a couple of guards watching over me. The guards get switched out every so often, but Kearan and Enwen are by far the most entertaining.
Unfortunately for Riden, guards are not the deterrent I’m sure he was hoping for. Even they have to sleep, and once they do, I creep from my cell and poke my nose around the ship. Since the map didn’t turn up in Draxen’s quarters, I decide to start my search belowdecks from stern to prow and then make my way above. I chose this order because I assumed I would be starting with the easiest places to search and making my way toward the harder ones.
But nothing proves to be quick or easy.
When there’s nigh forty men belowdecks, sleeping, there’s always at least one every hour who needs to piss in the night, no doubt due to heavy drinking before bed. I spend half my time ducking out of sight, squeezing between tight spaces, or holding absolutely still while they rush over to the ship’s edge and then return to their beds.
My search is tedious and unfruitful, and each night I manage to finish only a small section of the ship.
On my fifth night aboard the ship, Kearan is snoring loudly while Enwen counts gold coins out of a small purse.
“Have you been gambling?” I ask.
“No, Miss Alosa, I don’t like to gamble.”
“Then where does your money come from?”
“Can you keep a secret?”
I look pointedly around my cell. “Who would I tell?”
Enwen nods pensively. “I suppose you’re right.” He looks down at the coins again. “Well, this one I got from Honis. This one’s from Issen. This one’s from Eridale. This one’s from—”
“You’re stealing them.” I smile.
“Yes, miss. But only one from each man. If a man sees his whole purse gone, he’ll know someone’s taken it, but if he’s only missing one coin—”
“He’ll assume he’s lost it,” I say.
“Yes, exactly.”
“That’s brilliant, Enwen.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re much smarter than you let on. Do you only pretend to be a superstitious fool so the crew will remain unsuspecting?”
“Oh no. I’m as superstitious as you can get.”
“And the part about being a fool?”
“I may overdo that one just a bit.”
I laugh lightly. This is the kind of man I would allow to be on my own ship, if he could manage to reserve his stealing for people who weren’t his crew members.
“And what about Kearan?” I ask. “What’s his story?”
Enwen looks over at his snoring companion. “Not much is known about Kearan. He doesn’t talk about himself, but I’ve gathered quite a bit from his sleep talking.”
“What have you learned?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Simple curiosity and boredom.”
“S’pose it wouldn’t hurt to tell you. Just don’t tell Kearan I was the one who told you.”