Were I above the water, I might find it strange that they wear no clothing. But it makes perfect sense down here. The water does not chill us. There is no harsh weather or extreme temperatures to be shielded from. There is no one to hide their nakedness from.
The older sirens, my mother included, have shells strung through their hair like beads. My mother, I notice, has the most. The mature sirens don’t have lines near their eyes or any other indications of age, but there is something about them that marks them as older. Something that I can sense rather than see.
Siren children—I’d never even considered their existence before—stay near the ocean’s bottom. They skip through the sand, roll in it, reminding me of human children playing in mud puddles. One sees me and immediately swims for the siren I assume is her mother. They both have the same golden locks.
My mother is so different from when I beheld her on land. Where before she was sunken, weak, barely able to stand, now her muscles are toned, her skin smooth and unblemished. She is a creature of power and beauty that is unlike the rest. Their queen.
When she sees my eyes return to hers, she says, There was always a piece missing. We are complete now that you’re here to fill it.
She swims past the others, using both arms and legs to propel herself toward me. When she’s there, right in front of me, she extends her arms out to me. What took you so long? I missed you terribly.
I want to be wary of her. Of all of them. Sirens are beasts. They’re mindless monsters that care for nothing and no one but themselves.
But I can’t.
Not after what I felt while singing. There was always a place for me here. My mother left an opening in the song just for me, hoping—no, desperate—for me to come and fill it.
I don’t understand, I tell her. You left me. You abandoned me after I freed you. Why?
Her brows lift in a perfect arch. I had to get back to my sisters. I am their queen. They needed me. You were told to follow. Why did you not listen?
Because I couldn’t. I become something else when I am in the water. I’m not myself. I’ve only recently found a way to control it.
There is a rippling in the water, as I feel those around us shifting uncomfortably.
My mother closes her eyes, taking in my words, thinking through them. Of course, she says. You are land-born. Your natures fight together for dominance. One stronger on land, one under the sea. But it would seem the human in you has won.
Almost imperceptibly, every siren in the water drifts back an inch. All save my mother.
Is that a bad thing? I ask.
Not to me, she says softly, so only I can hear.
And everyone else? I ask just as quietly.
It may take them longer to warm up. But never mind that for now. I want to show you something.
This time, instead of swimming ahead without me, she takes my hand. I had every intention of following, but I enjoy the contact. I know what it means. This time, she is not giving me a chance to become separated from her.
We swim around the group of sirens, who start chatting among themselves.
What is that covering her skin?
She smells like a human.
Why does the queen welcome her?
She’s an outsider.
My mother halts, turns, and sings one booming note all in the same movement.
Enough! the song commands. Every mouth closes, as though forced shut with a hand at the top of their heads and under their chins.
With my hand still in hers, she pulls me closer to land.
Do the sirens have to obey your song? I ask.
Yes, but it’s not the same as when we sing to men. I am their queen. My voice moves the charm.
The charm?
The entirety of our people together is called a charm. I say where we swim, what we do, and the charm follows. It is in our nature. It’s different from the magic that compels men.
Like a queen bee commanding her swarm.
It doesn’t work on me, though, I say, knowing this somehow. She can’t command me.
No. It is in you to become a queen. You are my daughter. You are meant to rule when my soul passes.
That halts me in place. Rule the sirens? My mind has always been set on ruling the sea. I have a crew to care for and command. I can’t take over the charm.
But I shake the thought from my head and continue to swim after her. It’s not something that needs addressing now.
I know it’s a lot to take in. You’ll fit in and understand. Just wait until you see!
The ocean bed grows rocky as we approach a new side of the shore. A series of rocks opens into an underground cave. Mother swims through, holding my hand the entire way. The path grows darker, but we can still see. Urchins and starfish cling to the rocks. Barnacles open as the current moves through the cave. But the current is no deterrent for Mother and me. We push right on through it.
Eventually, the cave widens into a cavern. It’s very deep, the bottom some fifty feet below. And resting atop it …
So much gold and silver.
In coins, jewelry, goblets, and dishes. Encasing precious stones and gems.
I could purchase the entire world five times over with the amount contained in here.
My mother swims down to it, picks up a handful of coins, lets them slide through her fingers.
It’s been in the family for generations, Mother says, but we’ve all added to it. She finds a silver ring with a diamond in the center. She strokes her finger across it. I took this off a sailor who fell overboard during a storm. The sea swallowed his cries as I pried it from his pocket. I think he was saving it for a sweetheart back home.
And this, she continues, pulling up a gold plate and fork, fell off a vessel near your Seventeen Isles. As soon as we knew there was treasure aboard, we sang to the rest of the men, demanding they throw everything valuable overboard. When they were done, we had them toss themselves in afterward. So we could enjoy them.
I keep my face carefully neutral, but she asks, Does that trouble you?
What she’s revealed is disturbing. It’s wrong by my code of ethics. By my human nature. But I can also see it from the point of the siren in me. It’s natural. The way of sirens. Would one blame a tiger for hunting a human as its prey?
I have killed many men, I say.
But do you enjoy them first?
No, I only enjoy the men I like. Not the ones I intend to kill.
She turns back toward the treasure. He took you from me. Someday, I will add his gold to this pile, and I will think with pleasure on how he died.
I hope that time comes soon, I say. I hate that he kept us apart. But I like being who I am. My human side may disgust you, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
But just look at you, she says. Her hand goes to my sleeve, pulls it up to reveal all the scars there. You must be covered in these. He did this to you, didn’t he?
It was part of my training.