Madrid picks up her discarded weapon and studies the spear mechanism. “I don’t get it,” she says. “I’ll have to bring it belowdecks for another service.”
She starts to walk to the other side of the deck and then abruptly stops when she notices the siren’s body blocking the doorway. Madrid swallows and waits patiently. They all do. Perfectly silent until the moment the siren begins to fade. The sight is never anything less than a wonder to them, even after all this time. But I don’t look at the lifeless creature turning to foam on my deck. I’ve seen a hundred monsters die. Instead I turn to the strange girl I pulled from the ocean.
Lira isn’t smiling anymore.
18
Lira
MAEVE DISSOLVES INTO NOTHING.
Killing a siren is not like killing a mermaid. Their rotting corpses stain the ocean floor and skeleton among the coral, while we dissolve into the very thing that made us. Into ocean and foam and the salt in our veins. When we’re gone, there’s nothing left to remember.
I thought I’d be glad when Maeve died, but the battle between our species wages on and I’ve just helped the humans in their bid to slaughter us. At the very least, the prince didn’t cut out her heart before he killed her. I’ve never paid mind to legends, unless I’m the legend of discussion, but even I know the stories. Ones that warn of any human who holds a siren’s heart being granted immunity to our song. It’s said that’s why we turn to sea foam when we die, that it’s not a curse to erase us from the world but a blessing from Keto to ensure a human can never take our hearts.
After Maeve disappears, I’m taken belowdecks to a windowless room that smells of aniseed and rust. The walls are not walls but thick drapes that hang from a varnished ceiling. Their damp edges catch the floor, and as the ship pierces on, they sway and reveal endless lines. Of books, weapons, and gold. Each curtain has its own secret. In the center is a large cube made from black glass. It’s as thick as I am long, with hinges and bolts that are heavy gold. The same kind that the eel-mermaid’s brooch was made from. It’s a prison of sorts and doesn’t appear to be designed for humans. Or, if it is, it’s designed for the worst kind.
In the kingdom of Keto, we don’t keep prisoners. Betraying the Sea Queen means giving up your life, and so we have no choice but to be what my mother says we are. Deciding differently offers no second chances; my punishment is proof of that.
I turn to Elian. “Why am I down here?”
With each passing moment, he takes on more of the ocean. A brown leather tunic is slung over his shirt, frayed black string fastening it at the neck. His legs are half trouser and half long brown boots that catch at the knees. A strap crosses from his shoulder to his waist, and from it a large cutlass dangles. His knife is hidden behind, away from strange eyes. I can still smell Maeve’s blood on it.
“You seem worldly,” Elian says. “Can’t you figure it out?”
Behind him, Kye and Madrid are resolute guardians. Less than a day on this ship and I already know who his most trusted are. Which means I already know his greatest weakness.
“I thought princes liked saving young women in need.”
Elian laughs, teeth flashing white against his handsome face. “You’re a damsel now?” he asks. “It’s funny, because you didn’t seem like one when you were trying to claw your way past me to attack a siren.”
“I thought killing sirens was what people on this ship did.”
“Usually not with their bare hands.”
“Not everyone needs magical knives to do their dirty work for them.”
“Not everyone can speak Psáriin,” he says.
I keep a coy smile on my lips, playing my role well. “I have a talent for languages.”
“Your Midasan says differently.”
“I have a talent for interesting languages,” I amend, and Elian’s green eyes crinkle.
“What about your own language?” he asks.
“It’s better.”
“How?”
“It’s more suited to me.”
“I dread to think what that means.”
Elian brushes past me and presses a hand to the cold glass of the cube. As his fingers spread over the would-be prison, I can almost feel the cold of it through him. The siren part of me aches to feel the frost beneath my fingers and know the cold like I used to. The human in me shivers.
“Where is your home?” Elian asks.
His back is to me, and I see his lips move through his reflection. He watches himself, keeping his eyes far from mine. For a moment I don’t think he’s asking me. That maybe he’s asking himself. A prince who doesn’t know which kingdom he should claim. Then Kye clears his throat and Elian spins back around. When he does, his face is all lights.
“Well?” he asks.
“I didn’t think I was going to be interrogated.”
“Did the cage not give it away?”
“I didn’t see a cage.” I arch my neck, peering behind him as if I hadn’t noticed my looming prison. “Your charm must have masked it.”
Elian shakes his head to hide the growing smile. “It’s not just any cage,” he says. “Back when I first started all of this and long before I knew better, I had it built with every intention of using it to hold the Sea Queen.” He arches an eyebrow. “Do you think it can hold you?”
“You’re going to throw me in a cage?” I ask.
“Unless you tell me where you’re from,” he says. “And why you left.”
“It wasn’t my choice.”
“Why were you out in the middle of the ocean without a ship?”
“I was abandoned.”
“By who?”
I don’t hesitate when I say, “Everyone.”
With a sigh, Elian leans back and presses a foot flat against the glass. He ponders my carefully chosen words, turning them over in his mind like the wheel of a ship. I dislike the silence that follows and the heavy weight that his quiet leaves in the room. It’s as though the air waits for the sound of his voice before it dares to thin out and become breathable. And I wait too, trying to anticipate what his next move will be. The situation is unbearably familiar. So many times I’ve hovered in front of my mother, biting my tongue while she chooses how I live my life. What I will do and when I will kill and who I will be. Though it’s strange to watch a human deliberate my fate, it’s not such an odd thing to wait while it’s decided by someone other than myself.
Hidden under my seaweed lies, there’s truth. I was abandoned, and now I’m on a ship with humans who would see me dead if they knew what I was. Below the surface, my mother rules a kingdom that should be mine, and if anyone questions where I’ve gone, she’ll spit whatever lies make me most forgettable. Harpooned by a passing sailor. Killed by a simple mermaid. In love with a human prince. It will leave my memory as more of a joke than a legend, and the loyalty of my kingdom will dissolve as quickly as Maeve did.
I will be nothing. Have nothing. Die as nothing.
I look at my necklace, still hanging from Elian’s neck. I don’t doubt that if I press my ear to the red bone, I’ll hear the ocean and the sound of my mother’s laughter rippling through it.
I turn, disgusted.