Sister of the Sea

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Sister of the Sea Page 14

by Lena Mae Hill


  “Let them be your heroes,” Gale said, linking her arm through Sagely’s. “And while they’re gone, let’s go get ice cream.”

  “Ice cream? Really? Aren’t you worried about your brother?”

  “Terrified,” Gale said. “Which is why I need ice cream. For consolation.”

  Sagely couldn’t help but laugh. But she let Gale tug her along, chattering about the ice cream shop near the docks, and that since it was summer, they might see some cute boys working the lobster boats…maybe even without their shirts on if it got hot…how much she loved ice cream…

  Sagely turned to see the boat bobbing over the swells, Guthrie at the motor. They did have lots of magic around them, laid on by the whole coven. Plus two powerful warlocks, a bad-ass witch, and a faery who was immune to the siren’s song.

  “It just kills me that I can’t go with them,” she said when there was a break in Gale’s chatting.

  Gale stopped walking, her blue eyes widening. “You weren’t listening to a thing I said, were you?”

  “You’re right,” Sagely said, pulling up short. “I’m so sorry. I’m really distracted, but I am listening. Go on, tell me more about your stress eating.”

  Gale sighed. “No, you’re right, that’s boring. Guthrie says I have a problem with saying all my thoughts out loud and expecting people to be interested. I open my mouth, and everything just spills out in a constant stream.”

  “That’s kinda mean,” Sagely said, instantly feeling protective of her new friend.

  “No, it’s true,” Gale said. “It’s a good thing I can close my mouth, too, or the words would never stop, because my brain never stops.”

  “Except when you’re eating ice cream, right?” Sagely said, squeezing her arm as they approached the awning of the little shop. It was just a tiny shed with weatherworn grey shingles and white trim. Beside the front window, a wide board had been nailed in place of a shutter. On it, someone had handwritten the flavors of ice cream.

  “What do you want?” Gale asked. “My treat.” She pulled a handful of coins out of her pocket and started counting them out.

  The man inside the shop had a red, weather-beaten face halfway covered with a shaggy grey beard. He wore overalls over a plaid shirt, and a sailor’s hat pulled down over bushy grey hair. “Morning, Gale. I see you brought along a friend today.”

  “Hey, Zeb,” Gale said, without looking up from her penny counting.

  “I’ll pay,” Sagely said, squeezing her elbow. She pulled a few crumpled dollars from her pocket and laid them on the counter in front of the window.

  “Here’s three,” Gale said, pushing over a few stacks of quarters and nickels.

  “I’ll take a black raspberry chocolate chip,” she said, darting a shy glance at Sagely. “Single scoop.”

  “Make it a double,” Sagely said to Zeb, who gave her a wink and went to work scooping. That’s when she noticed one sleeve of his shirt hung empty.

  “Sailor’s moon last night,” Zeb said. “Gonna be a scorcher.”

  “Zeb’s one of the locals who doesn’t mind serving us,” Gale said. “Most people don’t like us. They think we’re homeless. You know, squatters. But Zeb likes everyone.”

  “The way I figure,” Zeb said, returning to hand the ice cream across the counter. “There’s too many prejudices in this world already. I don’t need to add to them.”

  “His arm got caught in a rope when he was pulling up lobster traps,” Gale said. “That’s why he doesn’t work on the boats anymore.”

  “But I love the smell of the sea,” Zeb said, smiling out past the boats. “Love the hustle and bustle of the dock. So I set up shop as close to the water as I could. Now. What can I get the pretty redhead?”

  “Mint chocolate chip,” Sagely said. When he handed it over, he pushed her money back.

  “First one’s free,” he said, then grinned with small, worn teeth. “You’ll be back, and I’ll take your money then.”

  “Thank you,” Sagely said, returning his smile.

  Gale gathered her coins off the counter and slipped them back in her pocket. “Let’s go down to the dock, see if we can watch the boat going out.”

  As they stood by one of the poles jutting up from the edges of the dock, just high enough for them to rest their elbows on, they watched the little boat drawing nearer to the rocks.

  “Don’t worry, my brother can navigate anything,” Gale said. “And if he can’t do it naturally, he’ll use some wind to give him a boost.”

  Sagely thought about Fox out there, unable to swim, with just his life vest to keep him afloat. Her mind returned to what Zeb had said. If she were honest, part of what kept her from dissolving her bond with Fox was protective stubbornness. She hated the way witches talked about the fae. Even Quill had done it, even after knowing she had faerie blood.

  “Remember when you said it was interesting that I had a faery in my collective,” Sagely said slowly. “What did you mean by that?”

  “I’ve never seen a land faery before,” Gale said. “Well, I mean, I’ve seen pictures. My mom had a whole book about them. But I’ve only ever seen sea fae, and they don’t look anything like Fox. They’re like a foot tall, for one. They look more like…giant jellyfish, kind of. But you only see them once in a while, if they blow up on the beach after a storm. And then you have to be careful, because they’ll play dead, so when you pick them up to throw them back in the ocean, they’ll bite the crap out of you.”

  Sagely shuddered. “Sounds friendly.”

  “But Fox seems nice enough,” Gale said, licking her ice cream and giving Sagely a sideways grin. “And cute.”

  “He’s not too hard on the eyes,” Sagely said, feeling her face warm. “But it’s not so odd for us to be intended. I’m part fae, too.”

  “Really?” Gale asked, her eyes widening.

  “That’s why the siren doesn’t affect me as strongly.”

  “Dag, I wish I was part fae,” Gale said. “That must come in handy in all kinds of ways.”

  They both fell silent as the boat reached the rock sticking up from the water.

  “So what about you?” Sagely asked. “Got your eye on anyone for a collective?”

  “No,” Gale said glumly. “Our coven is so small, and we all grew up together, so we’re like brothers and sisters. Plus, my brother is so protective, he doesn’t think anyone’s good enough for me. After our parents died, he’s pretty much raised me.”

  “Your parents are gone, too?”

  “They got taken in by the siren when I was a kid. She sucked out all their magic, even their internal flames.” Gale shuddered despite the heat. “They got back in their boat, but they were husks, you know?”

  Sagely thought of the puppet-like witches from her own coven. Would husks be like that?

  “So they drowned?”

  “They made it back after a few days,” Gale said. “Mom went down on the beach during low tide and didn’t come back in time. She got caught by the tide coming in and died on the rocks. A couple nights later, Dad wandered off when we were sleeping, probably searching for Mom or the siren. His body washed up with the tide. Guthrie took it real hard.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Oh, I was six, I guess. Guthrie was eleven. He worshipped our dad. He was always protective of me, but he used to play with me, too. After that, he got so serious. Like he had to be the grown-up, even though our coven took care of us. I wish he’d join someone’s collective. It would be nice to see him happy again.”

  Something squeezed inside Sagely, some instinctive desire to take care of them both. But she knew Guthrie wouldn’t want her sympathy, no matter how much she understood his pain. She could only hope they found Raina.

  Gale, on the other hand, was right here. Sagely squeezed her arm. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That sounds horrible. Is there anything we can do to get rid of the siren?”

  “No.” Gale crumbled some of her cone and tossed the pieces to her seagull, who happily
pecked at them. “We can’t get rid of them any more than, say, sharks. They’re just doing what they do. It’s not their fault they eat magic any more than it’s a shark’s fault if it attacks a human.”

  They began to walk down towards the end of the dock, where they could circle around the boats and walk down onto the beach.

  Gale froze, her head turning towards the water. Her gull landed on her shoulder.

  “What is it?” Sagely felt for the magic across the water, Quill’s comforting presence, and found it. He was fine. But when she turned back, she noticed the glassy, glazed look in Gale’s eyes. She knew that look all too well.

  “The siren,” Gale said dreamily.

  Sagely grabbed Gale’s head and covered her ears. “Look at me,” she said, her stomach tightening in fear. That couldn’t be right. The others had gone during the day specifically so they could rescue Raina without the siren’s interference.

  Desperately, she held Gale’s head until the girl met her eyes. “Look into my eyes. You can’t hear the siren. She doesn’t sing in the daytime.”

  “Then something’s wrong,” Gale said. “Because it’s daytime, and she’s singing.”

  twenty-eight

  Raina

  Raina swam through the water, up through the waves, too in love with her new body to think of anything else. She was one with the sea. She moved through it like…well, like a fish through water. She dove and twirled, turned and flipped and splashed. At last, she surfaced.

  The water was sparkling in the sun, the air warm and briny. She saw lobster boats going out. Fishing boats. Even a sailboat. But swim as she might, she could not find the sleek black head of her familiar bobbing in the water. Not when she swam up and down the shore, all the way to the rough rocks where the waves threatened to smash her. And not when she clambered up onto the rock where Yvonne had always sung.

  Now that she could think clearly again, without the enchantment clouding her mind, she couldn’t remember if Seeley had been bound by it, too. She hadn’t known she was enchanted, so she had no way to know if he had been. But if there was a chance…

  She didn’t know if she’d possess the siren’s song. Her old body had been able to carry a tune, maybe even sing a pleasing melody. But she couldn’t sing like a siren.

  She had to try, though. If she’d lost her witch magic, maybe she’d gained mer magic. Taking a deep breath, she filled her lungs. Her ribcage expanded with air, her throat ready for the song that streamed forth when it was Yvonne’s body. But now it was Raina’s. And she had no idea what to sing. Did Yvonne’s song even have words? She couldn’t remember. She only remembered the emotions that rolled through her when she heard the song.

  Gathering that emotion into herself, she opened her mouth and let it spill forth.

  The sound that came out almost overpowered her. She had to grip the rock with her cold fingers to keep from falling off into the ocean. The song between her lips was so big it almost forced her jaws open, as if it were a physical force. She felt as if a rainbow were arcing out of her mouth and across the sea.

  It buoyed her up, and she continued, delighted. She didn’t worry about words. She simply sang notes, and every one was right. Some force took the voice from her lungs and throat and vocal chords and tongue, twisted them together, and made magical music.

  She forgot about everything but her song. Power swelled inside her, and she rode high on the wave of elation as if surfing a tsunami. Fog rolled across the water and engulfed her and the stone where she perched. Had she done that? Had her singing brought about a sudden change in weather, shrouding the sea in mist so she couldn’t see ten feet in front of her?

  That’s when she remembered the pirate ship. And when hands seized her from behind.

  *

  Frantically, Raina searched the sea for her familiar. But her heart sank. She couldn’t see anything past the cursed fog. And besides, Seeley wouldn’t feel her distress and come running anymore. He wasn’t her familiar. He was just a seal in the ocean.

  One pirate grabbed her and dragged her backwards from the rock while another waited below with a net. She could barely see the shapes of men through the fog, but she heard their voices cursing like…well, sailors.

  Instinctually, she’d called upon the water to help her, but it was deaf to her pleas. She scrambled to get off the rock, summoning… nothing. She could no longer conjure fire to burn through the net they were stuffing her into or ice that she could form into a knife. Clutching desperately at the rocks, she succeeded only in drawing blood from her soft skin, causing wounds she could no longer heal.

  At last, she grabbed a chunk of rock, but she couldn’t make it sharp and jagged to cut her way out. She scratched and punched and shrieked, pounding the men’s arms with the small rock. But it was no use. They were stronger than her. Two commoners had defeated Arkansas’s strongest water witch in mere minutes. The thought made her want to throw herself in the mouth of a shark.

  Desperate, she tried to summon mer magic, but it was stuck in her throat, useful only to lure people to their deaths, apparently. What good was her magic if she couldn’t even defend herself from grungy, foul-mouthed pirates?

  It took them all of five minutes to shove her inside a net and secure it. Even thrashing her strong tail did nothing. They hopped into a rowboat and towed her back to their ship. The net wrapped around her like eels, like seaweed growing around her limbs. She tried to kick out, but her tail only flopped angrily against the net, which continued snaking around her. And then she was airborne, lifting up and swinging away from the rock, towards the side of the ship.

  She hit it hard, and a cry tore from her throat.

  “We got ‘er,” a man yelled.

  Raina imagined Seeley’s sharp teeth biting through the net. But he was gone, along with her magic. He could no more slice through the ropes than she could summon magic to do it. Her heart squeezed painfully at the thought. She would never again share the bond of her magic with him. Or with anyone. Not a human or a familiar. Not her collective. When she found a man, he would be simply a lover. There would be no magic between them.

  The net lifted, and she was dumped unceremoniously onto the deck, still entangled in the net. As if she were nothing more than a giant tuna.

  Four men bent down from the thick fog to peer at her, making a circle around her bound body. Three were black men with braids, and the third was a blonde guy with a full beard and wild hair tumbling past his shoulders. Her eyes locked on his, and a jolt ran straight through her body to her tailfin. As he fixed her with a mocking smile, his blue eyes crinkled at the corners. Blue eyes that were just like hers.

  Or like hers used to be.

  “Finally,” one of the black men said in a Jamaican accent, pushing his shoulder-length braids back. “Looks like we got our Moby Dick.”

  “Call me Ahab,” said one of the others. He had a gold tooth, muscular shoulders, and braids hanging to his narrow hips.

  “If we’d known you came out during the day, we would have sailed in sooner,” River said. “All those times you thought you were singing us in, you were just guiding us to you. And now we got you, you little bugger.” He leaned down, bracing his hands on his knees, and studied his catch.

  His knees.

  Raina tried to formulate a response, but she’d lost her voice. It couldn’t be true. She’d seen him. She’d seen him swimming with a girl. Had seen his tail splash….or she’d seen a tail splash…

  As realization dawned, she couldn’t help scanning him from his two very definite feet and stout legs to his broad shoulders, his tangled mane and beard, his narrow face and alert, twinkling eyes…those blue eyes…

  It was as if she were seeing some alternate version of herself in a funhouse mirror. Except his eyes weren’t a mirror of hers…not anymore. Now someone else had her eyes, and her legs. And River…he had legs, too.

  Anguish twisted her heart on its skewer. Thalassa’s words echoed in her mind. No take-backs. No do-overs. Thi
s was final. She’d wanted it, insisted on it. She hadn’t listened. And now she was stuck like this forever. And alone. She wouldn’t swim the seas with Yvonne. She wouldn’t swim the seas with Seeley. And River wasn’t a mer.

  But she’d found her brother at last. She’d given up everything for him—the stone, her entire life, her whole self, and for nothing. The gaping void inside her seemed to fill only with pain, more at each new discovery. She had to go back. She had to get her life back. But she already knew it was too late. Thalassa had been right about everything. There was no way back.

  “Wait,” she said when one of the men grabbed the bundle of ropes that had pulled her up. This one had braids halfway down his back, and an honest-to-god eyepatch. “I’m Raina.”

  “Nice to make your acquaintance,” he said, his Jamaican accent matching that of the other two black men. The four pirates burst into rowdy laughter, as if it were the funniest thing they’d ever heard. Even River showed no sign of recognition.

  “Please,” she said as they hoisted her up. “What are you going to do to me?”

  “We could cut her tongue out,” River said. “That’s what they did to the Little Mermaid to shut her up.”

  “Gotta do something,” the one with the long braids said. “Protection charms don’t last forever. And now that she’s so close…”

  “Listen,” Raina said, clutching the net as the other guy continued pulling the rope hand over hand, hoisting her up towards the mast. “River. I’m your sister. Don’t you remember me? You got in the sleigh with that faerie woman, except she was really a goddess. Queen Thalassa,. You said you’d stall her for me if I went home and told our mother.”

  The man continued raising her as she spoke, but finally, River held up a hand. “Wait.”

  The man paused, turning to River expectantly. “What’s she going on about?” he asked. “You think this siren is your sister?”

  “No,” River said, his voice steely. “I know she’s not my sister. But I’d like to know how she knows all that.”

 

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