Page 81 of Seas the Reckoning

It would be eerie if I didn’t feel so at home in even these frigid waters.

With no evidence as to their character or their motives, I decide to try to be polite first. If that fails, I’ll fight fire with fire. The chaos that accompanies my magic could be dangerous, but I can’t imagine it would be worse than Thomas following these supernaturals deep under the waves and opening his mouth with everyone else inside.

Visions of such a scenario pound in my head.

“Please stop trying to control my guide. He is simply helping me. We’re looking for a specific island.”

One of the mermaids, with her light green eyes glowing in the deep, scoffs.

“Why do you seek this location?”

“And who gave you that?” One of the naiads—with hair as dark as my own but straighter, and glowing hazel eyes—points to me.

I look down and see the shell is glowing. The mood shifts as all five of them tighten their formation, swimming closer to me.

If I lie, it’s not going to get the answers I seek. If they don’t like the truth, I’ll be in no more trouble than I probably already am.

“This necklace was left to me by my great-great-grandmother. A siren from these waters, named Inktus.”

There’s murmuring from the group. I take it as a sign of recognition, although it’s hard to tell their opinion of my troublesome ancestor.

“You’ve heard of her, then? She was cursed by a witch, and that curse has lingered in my family for generations, coming alive again with my own siren song.”

“Everyone in these waters has heard of Inktus,” says the second mermaid, her short-cropped auburn hair lifted by the water.

“The most powerful siren to ever swim. Legend says she could command several individuals at once with her voice,” adds a naiad with eyes such a light shade of blue they remind me of ice.

For a moment, I stop treading water. Several people? I’ve done more than that with my voice still cursed. I’d assumed all sirens could do such things.

“Her bones are buried on our island. It’s said her song still echoes through the waters here. It also was said that, one day, a descendant of hers would come and reclaim their song. The strongest siren power in the ocean. But they never came.” The last naiad says the most, her brown eyes locked on the shell.

“That’s me. When I use my voice, it invokes chaos. I’m here to break the curse.”

I omit Starla’s presence or her role in the entire ordeal.

The naiad with the hazel eyes swims even closer, placing herself directly in front of me.

“My own family was close to hers, once upon a time. She was a big believer in what we still hold dear. Supernaturals like us, thriving and surviving primarily in the wild. Not spending our time on human sidewalks, human roads, human lands. Having to come into contact with beings like vampires who claim they can compel people the same way we sing, or witches like the one who cursed Inktus.”

I tense, trying not to react outwardly at the mention of witches, even though they’ll be seeing Starla eventually if things go to plan.

Their proposed way of life is a baffling concept in this day and age, but the ocean is vast. This is a remote location, and if they’re careful there’s no reason to spend time with humans if they don’t want to. Although I can’t imagine going without my bed, and my coffee maker, and the Carolina Beach boardwalk.

“Humans aren’t all bad. Neither are witches,” I say, trying not to be too confrontational while still speaking my piece.

“You cannot be her. Inktus’s descendant would be a warrior. A master of her voice.”

“And how do you know I’m not?” I challenge, bolstered by the knowledge that the safety of my friends depends on me.

The mermaid with the short hair scoffs.

“We can tell who has lived in the ocean and who has not.”

“Prove it with your voice. Every siren’s voice is a different strength. If you really do have a song worthy of Inktus’s lineage, use it. Someone that strong would be able to overcome the five of us with ease. It took all of us to sing the whale. Inktus would have been able to do that without effort.”

Took all of them?

She’s right. Thomas and the others were able to resist them. I had thought it was because Thomas was blocking their voices, but maybe they have weak songs. It reminds me of Starla and her key, and sympathy rushes through me.