The Siren

by Felicity Harper

  Chapter Ten

  The deck had been strung with lanterns that lit it up like a twinkling sky. A mess table had been brought topside so the crew could eat together. They were now tucking into a fried fish supper which they were punctating with loud exclamations of pleasure.

  Gabe explained to Ottilia that the crew wanted to celebrate the ship’s continued sea-worthiness and young Pip’s rescue. They also, he told her with a grin, considered the fish she had caught to be a good omen. Old Jeb had presented Ottilia with her very own Monmouth cap which, he had assured her, was essential wear when the wind ‘bit’ and then he had pronounced her a member of the crew. Ottilia laughed and smiled. She was enjoying the feeling of acceptance but, deep down, she felt like a fraud. What would these men think if they knew the real reason she was here? What would their Captain think of her?

  Gabe handed her two plates of the fried fish and asked her to take them up to Flint and Arik who were navigating the ship through a series of small atolls.

  “Of course,” she said. As she crossed the deck, she could feel Gabe’s eyes following her.

  Ever since the Captain had kissed her, Ottilia had been aware of him. She didn’t need to look to know where he was and whether he was watching her. She felt the intensity of his gaze through to her soul and her body burned with her need for him.

  She climbed up to the poop deck and greeted the two men on duty. “Good evening to you, too, Miss Florin!” Arik said, taking the plates from her.

  Ottilia looked out over the ocean and saw the small atoll peaks protruding from the water. Those peaks could be deceptive: huge mountains could lie, dangerous and unseen, beneath the ocean surface. Ottilia had lured many a warship onto similar hidden reefs herself. The consequences were usually dire for both the ship and its crew.

  “Are there many of those out here?” she asked. Flint glanced over and gave her a wink.

  “Don’t you worry, Miss. I’ve encountered worse and not lost a ship yet,” the helmsman reassured her.

  “I don’t doubt that for a second, Mr Flint,” she said, trying not to look concerned. “How long before we are through?”

  “You go and enjoy the celebrations and let us worry about getting this old tub past a few rocks,” Arik teased.

  With one last look at the rocky outcrops, Ottilia returned to the main deck, where Prince Sebastian was entertaining the sailors by reading aloud a poem he had written.

  “And there she was afloat the surf; that beautiful maiden expelled from the oceans depth.

  The Captain knew her time ran short and into the foaming sea heroically he leapt.

  Would Poseidon snatch this treasure away, before our hero could save the day?

  He battled the waves and stole her from them, his hearty crew cheering on,

  And thus she came to the arms of the good ship Manatee,

  And was saved for all humanity.”

  The crew cheered the tale; Gabe rolled his eyes and Ottilia grimaced with heartfelt embarrassment.

  “I see your poetry has not improved, cousin,” he said, to the great amusement of the crew. “Time for some music I think, Jeb!” and the old bosun grabbed his fiddle and started to play. Ottilia smiled at the Prince’s sulky countenance; it seemed he took his poetry more seriously than did Captain Gabe.

  Paddy and Niles were stomping around the deck while the rest of the men clapped them on and Ottilia laughing in delight at their antics, joined in the rhythmic clapping.

  “Your turn, Captain!” Paddy said breathlessly and, reluctantly, Gabe obliged.

  “Join me, Florin! I feel like a bloody idiot up here alone,” he said. Ottilia backed away.

  “I can’t dance, Captain!”

  “Neither could Paddy and Niles but it didn’t stop those two prancing around,” he called good-naturedly, prompting a barrage of catcalls and insults from the two men. In response, Gabe grabbed Ottilia’s hand and pulled her into his arms.

  “Just follow my lead,” he told her and took the first steps.

  Ottilia followed his instructions, stepping twice on his feet before she caught the rhythm. Soon, they were whirling around the deck to the delight of their audience. Several sailors, mimicking their Caption, coupled up to dance around with them. Jeb played louder, competing with the stomps of the men’s feet upon the wooden floor.

  “See! It’s not so hard, is it?” Gabe said close to her ear and Ottilia looked up at him, unable to contain the sheer joy she felt at being in his arms.

  “It’s wonderful!” she cried happily and then laughed as Tucker and Brody danced past them, making loud kissing noises.

  “Fools!” Gabe called after them before returning his attention to Ottilia. He stared into her eyes and Ottilia thought - hoped - he might kiss her again.

  “My turn, cousin!” Sebastian interrupted and Gabe reluctantly handed her over. Furious at the Prince’s intrusion, Ottilia slammed her heel on his foot.

  “Oops! Silly me!” she said, sounding not in the least bit sorry. She glanced back at Gabe and saw Pip stand on the Captain’s feet and ask him to ‘dance me round’.

  “You didn’t come to my cabin,” Sebastian complained. “You were supposed to come and see my paintings, remember?”

  “Oh, I forgot, I’m afraid,” Ottilia lied. “Pip called me to the deck. He said there was a grande surprise.” In truth, she had remembered - but she hand’t wanted to disappoint the boy who had practically been hopping from one foot to the other as he had waited for her. Ottilia also acknowledged - even if only to herself - that she had sought an excuse not to think about her situation or the role the Prince must play. The evening had proved to be a delightful diversion from her troubles.

  Sebastian put a hand to her cheek. “Perhaps we could go down now and you could tell me what you think of my oceanic artistry?”

  Just then, a bell sounded from the helm. The music and dancing died away as every person on board stared in astonishment at the sea. No longer reflecting the pitch black of the night sky, the ocean glowed a brilliant orange as though a fierce fire burned beneath its surface.

  The first haunting notes drifted across the water and the Manatee changed its course, turning into the Siren song and the destructive rocks whence the music came.

  Enthralled by the Siren’s song, the crew were unable to do anything to stop the disaster that was unfolding.

  “Petra! No!” Ottilia screamed and ran to the rail. “Stop! You will kill them all!”

  “Not the Prince!” her cousin intoned from her place atop the highest peak. “He shall be mine!”

  “Not like this, please!”

  The Manatee was now drifting dangerously close to the atoll reef with its jagged rocks, like sharks’ teeth ready to rip the wooden hull from stem to stern.

  “You stole him from me, Ottilia. You knew the Golden Prince was mine.”

  “He doesn’t belong to either of us, Petra. Release them!”

  “I can’t do that,” Petra called and something in her manner gave Ottilia pause. Her eyes were wide and vacant as though she were not truly there.

  “How did you know where to find me?” Ottilia asked. Petra snickered and Ottilia shivered. The laugh had not been that of her cousin but the sea-witch.

  Not for a second did Ottilia doubt that Hortense would kill them all to win her Siren’s body. She could not allow that to happen. She glanced behind her at the sailors who were frozen in their places; the same men who - just that day - had learned to trust her. Whatever it might cost her, Ottilia knew she must save them.

  Lifting up her arms, Ottilia summoned her most forceful song. This was no lovers’ beguile - nor a wishful soliloquy - but a song of strength and ownership. A song of raw power. The Siren was laying claim to the Manatee. Her voice rose high and commanding, the notes weaving through Petra’s enthralling and forcing it away from the little, wooden ship and stopping her dead in the water.

  The symbolism of Ottilia’s response was no
t lost on the other Siren. Petra’s fury was palpable and her response was swift. Instantly, she transformed her enthral to a song of vengeance and ruination.

  A death song.

  And Ottilia knew, beyond doubt, who governed her cousin’s voice. Petra would not deliberately slay the Prince. It took all of Ottilia’s powers to fend off Hortense’s wrathful enchantment; their voices saturated the night air as they fought for supremacy. The balance of power shifted between them, first one way and then the other. Thunder cracked overhead; the Manatee buckled and creaked under the onslaught and her crew was powerless, caught as they were in the thrall of the Sirens. Ottilia knew they could not endure much more. Soon, their human blood would boil in their veins and erupt from their noses, their ears and their eyes. They would die slow, torturous and agonising deaths.

  She would not let that happen!

  Holding firmly to her song, Ottilia ran to Gabe and seized the knife which he wore strapped to his belt. Frozen to the spot, Gabe could do nothing but Ottilia saw that his eyes followed her and she touched her hand to his cheek, seeking his understanding. With the knife in her hand, Ottilia stormed the forecastle, her long hair flying about her. Bracing herself on the swaying deck, she threw back her head, raised her arms high in the air and channelled the full power of the Siren song that raged through her.

  “I commend my power to thee, Manatee!” she roared and her song split the sky with an explosive crack of thunder.

  And then, as the final notes of her song died away she lifted her hair and, staring defiantly at her cousin, she sliced through her glowing locks.

  The Siren’s song ended abruptly. “You give your hair, Ottilia!” she shrieked in disbelief - and the voice was Petra’s alone.

  Ottilia nodded mutely. With the final note of her Siren song still thrumming in the air, Ottilia could only nod. Her voice had vanished into the ether. The silvery threads of her sacrificial hair circled the Manatee and wrapped themselves around the hull in a protective embrace. Tendrils floated high up into the rigging and curled lazily around the Manatee’s masts. She was now under the protection of Ottilia and it would take more than Petra’s song to break the bond that entwined them.

  “I cannot believe you have done this, Ottilia!” Petra cried. She dived from her reef into the still broiling sea. “I cannot believe what you have given up for him!” she repeated and then slipped beneath the waves and was gone.

  Ottilia wanted to ask Petra the same thing. She knew now that Petra had permitted the sea-witch to use her song not once but twice; and Ottilia understood that what they had both given up had not been worth the love of a foolish Prince. And, had she her voice, Ottilia would have told her cousin that what she herself had sacrificed this night had not been for Sebastian but for Gabe, Captain of the Manatee.

  Chapter Eleven

  The second the spell was lifted, Gabe bellowed, “Get us the hell out of this place, Flint!”

  He glared at Ottilia. “I want you out of my sight!” he snarled. Turning his back on her, he began shouting orders to his men, many of whom were still reeling from the effects of the mesmerising song, and the ship slowly came under way.

  Though he didn’t really understand what had happened back there, Gabe knew for damn sure that Ottilia had lied to him the whole time. She was here for Sebastian - the Golden Prince!

  “Take her down to her cabin!” he shouted angrily at his cousin.

  Gabe felt his gut burn with her betrayal. He had trusted her dammit! And, in doing so, he had put his men and the Manatee at risk. When the hell would he learn? Women were not to be trusted.

  Sebastian followed Ottilia into her cabin. “I had no idea!” he said, shaking his head in wonder. “To think you were here for me all along! That I have not one but two Sirens who love me!”

  Ottilia turned away from him in disgust. It sickened her that she had ever thought she loved such a foolish creature.

  “Come now, my dear, we can sort all this out,” he crooned. If only she had her voice, Ottilia would tell him exactly what she thought of him, with salty, oceanic swear words very much included. But she didn’t have her voice and she wouldn’t have it until the day after tomorrow. Two days without being able to tell Gabe the truth.

  Two days for him to think the worst.

  Then again, was it so wrong for him to think badly of her? After all, she had come here for the Prince; she had lied to Gabe; and she had put the entire ship at risk to get what she wanted. He was right to hate her: she deserved nothing less.

  “So your cousin’s name is Petra? Interesting,” the Prince said musingly. “I thought the old woman had made that bit up.”

  Ottilia looked at him quizzically. What old woman?

  “Hmm? I can’t hear you: speak up!” he said and rubbed a finger in his ear in case it was him. “I was telling you about the old woman,” he added, loudly and slowly as though Ottilia were deaf. She sighed in frustration and waited for him to go on. “Gabe said she was a con artist but I knew she was telling the truth.”

  Ottilia gestured for him to continue.

  “We had been blown off course by a sudden squall and, as luck would have it, landed on one of the colonial islands. A funny old bird came up to me in the harbour market and said she could see I was mourning a lost love.” He glanced at Ottilia to see if she was listening and was pleased to see she was obviously fascinated by his tale. “She said I should go back to a place I had just left - which just happened to be the place where I had seen my Siren - and look for my beloved.”

  Sebastian shook his head, marvelling at his good fortune. “Had I not followed that dear old bat - Horfence, I believe her name was - had I not followed old Horfence’s advice, I would have given up all thoughts of my Petra.” He patted Ottilia’s shoulder. “I can see you are really touched by my story. What a sweetheart you are!”

  Ottilia wasn’t so much touched by Sebastian’s tale as enraged! That rotten, sneaky old hag had known all along the Prince had wanted Petra! She had played them both off against each other and had conned Ottilia into signing that contract. And, like a fool, she had jumped at the opportunity to win the heart of a man she didn’t even know.

  Worse still, the sea-witch was still pitting the cousins against each other and was cheating Ottilia out of any chance she might ever have had of winning. And the worst of it was, there was nothing Ottilia could do about it. She had signed that contract. She had known her life was at stake. Yet, all she had seen was an opportunity to get one over on her cousin, Petra, and thereby played straight into the evil witch’s gnarled hands.

  Chapter Twelve

  The Manatee was becalmed. With Ottilia’s hair protecting the ship, there was no way for Petra or, indeed, her cousin’s new ally, Hortense, to attack her. So, instead, they had stopped her from moving. This was their second day stuck among the atolls and the mood on the ship was grim.

  All the men but Sebastian were now either wary or outright hostile towards Ottilia - and she couldn’t blame them. The storm had already destroyed most of their precious stocks of food and she had heard Colbert tell Gabe that, if they didn’t move soon, they would run out of provisions within a few days.

  Gabe was avoiding her and she saw no point in seeking him out: not while she had lost her voice. Even the dolphins had gone, no doubt having decided it was best to stay out of the way of two warring Sirens.

  Ottilia was alone.

  When evening fell and the crew trundled off to the galley to partake of their meagre rations, Ottilia stayed up on deck. She would not be the cause of the sailors having to go without.

  “Do you think she’s out there watching us?” Sebastian asked mournfully. Ottilia rolled her eyes. She wished the Prince would stop following her around and talking about Petra and his undying love for her. Oh, and how she wished he would stop spouting terrible poetry! Unfortunately, her lack of voice made Ottilia the perfect audience for his asinine commentary - as he proved now by filling the silence
with yet more lines of turgid rhyme.

  “Oh Petra, my beloved, where art thou hiding? Come to me, your Prince! Let us spend eternity … gliding? … residing?” he pondered. “I need a good word that rhymes with hiding.”

  “Idling!” Gabe snapped, coming up behind them. “It would certainly describe your life to date.”

  Ottilia snorted with laughter - just at the same moment her voice chose to come back. She might have hoped for a more elegant occasion but at least she was no longer mute.

  Sebastian looked at her reproachfully. “Why are you siding with him when it is I who has been your constant companion these past two days?”

  Ottilia remained silent. There was no kind way to tell him what she really thought without causing offence. Unwittingly, Gabe came to her rescue.

  “Go and eat something, Sebastian! I can’t afford to have you ill.”

  Sebastian sighed in a long suffering manner, gave a last, regretful look across the ocean then flounced away in a fit of pique.

  “I don’t know how much longer I can stand being cooped up on this ship with him,” Gabe growled. He handed Ottilia a plate of food. “Here, I want you to eat too.”

  “I’m fine,” she replied. He thrust the plate at her.

  “Just eat goddammit!” he snapped and strode away.

  “Gabe, wait!” she cried. “Please - let me explain!”

  The Captain whirled around. His face was taut with anger. “What is there to explain, Ottilia? We all know now that you tricked your way onto my ship to get close to my cousin. The Golden Prince of all things!” He laughed humourlessly. “Well, I wish you the joy of him!”

  “Gabe, please!” Ottilia sobbed. “I love you!”

  Gabe halted. His back was still turned to her. “I don’t want to hear any more of your lies,” he said wearily. “Thanks to you, my ship is a mess and we are trapped here with dwindling supplies. I think you have caused enough trouble already, don’t you?”