Bound by the Depths

by Stacey Trombley

  I can only assume in that moment in the waves—when my mother arrogantly rubbed her victory in by allowing me to hold Whitley’s limp body—I was able to save some little piece of her within the river of power flowing through her body.

  But that was a fleeting victory.

  Whitley is a siren, no matter what happened before. I can no longer deny it.

  “She proved today that she not only doesn’t remember, but she couldn’t control the instinct. She killed a man for sport. How do you expect me to forgive that?”

  “Are you sure there wasn’t a reason? It was Lucky Seven, after all.”

  I freeze, body growing cold. “What?”

  She tilts her head. “That’s who she killed. Lucky Seven. I’d be willing to bet he did something to provoke her.”

  Shit.

  Luck Seven. I shake my head, remembering the shit he pulled the last time we were on The Freedom. I’d vowed to kill him myself if I ever got the chance...

  I can’t move for far too long. Shock fills my veins like ice. Finally, I suck in a breath, my chest heaving. I just called her a monster for killing a man I would have killed if given the chance.

  My teeth chatter as the realization hits me—she remembered. That’s why she killed him. And I called her a monster.

  The sirens are waiting in the depths for the right moment to take her back. And this time, if they get their hands on her, they won’t make the same mistake again. She’ll be dragged below, drowned a second time, and kept there until all doubt is extinguished. She will be a siren forever. Whitley will not resurface a second time.

  When my limbs finally fall back into submission, I rush back down to the main deck to find her.

  Whitley

  The look on his face will haunt me for the rest of my life.

  You’re a monster.

  My heart shatters. This pain surrounds me. Cocoons me.

  Bluff, I silently beg.

  I try to scrub the blood from my hands, but it only smears faded red blotches everywhere. My body stained in guilt.

  Earlier, I felt next to nothing. Now I can’t stop it. The feeling. The emotion. It’s drowning me.

  Rushing waves fill my ears, crashing against the ship—beckoning. I turn towards the railing. One jump. That’s all it would take to let all of it go. To sink into the depths where this will all just disappear.

  Perhaps his face won’t haunt me. Perhaps his rejection won’t matter.

  If I could just... forget.

  I stand, take the few steps towards the edge slowly. No one will approach me now. Most of the crew don’t believe what I am, but the ones who saw it are in shambles. Their panicked wailing can still be heard from below deck.

  But even if they don’t believe I’m a siren, they have enough sense to fear me.

  So when I put my leg over the railing and sit with my feet dangling over the water, no one says a word. Bluff isn’t here to stop me. He wouldn’t, I’m sure, even if he was.

  I’m not scared this time.

  I push off, wind rushing over me for just one quick moment, and then the sea envelopes me like the embrace of a loving parent.

  Welcome home, it says.

  Bluff

  I stop, heart hammering in my chest when I realize she’s not where I left her. The corner near the stairs to the helm is blood stained but empty. One cursory search over the deck tells me she’s not nearby, so I walk slowly towards the stains, praying she isn’t gone. Praying I’m not too late.

  The deep red splotches are largest in the corner, but a few drops travel across the walkway, right up the railing. My soul sinks.

  “Whitley,” I whisper, already knowing.

  She’s gone. And it’s my fault.

  I squeeze the wood, head hanging between my shoulders. I groan in frustration. I could give up now. I could let it end here. It’s not like there are many other options.

  I could collapse here and let my life fall apart. Lose the girl. Lose the war. All in one fell swoop. At least this time it’s my own fault. At least this time I can only hate myself. Or, I could keep fighting. I grit my teeth, then lift my foot up to the railing.

  “What are you doing?” Rosemera calls, rushing up behind me just before I leap into the waves. I don’t hesitate, and she is too late.

  “Bluff!” she screams after me, but her voice is drowned out by the rush of water, crashing over me. Slipping into the water is easy. I carve through the cool blue liquid like a fish, diving deeper and deeper.

  It’s a different world the second you’re under. First it’s blue, everywhere. The further I travel down the darker it gets. The sounds bombard me, taking a moment to become recognizable. Like the first time you step into the light after being in the dark for so long, it takes time to readjust.

  Then, the language clicks into place. Creatures miles away, sending calls to one another. I listen for her. For Whitley. But hear nothing.

  There is, however, a sudden siren call, clear and smooth. Like a melody, drifting up and down.

  This one is a call to action. As I expected, they’ve been following us, but were unwilling to attack head on—yet. They’d want to be prepared, catch us off guard, now that they know the kind of power we hold when we are together.

  The call is urgent, but cool. ‘Move now’, the call says, but it’s not panicked and not celebratory. They know something has happened, but based on the vagueness, they don’t seem to be sure what.

  There is no celebration, none of the whooping I’d expect if they had her.

  There’s still time.

  I keep quiet, not willing to expose my presence. But soon, that doesn’t seem to matter. I don’t know if they’ll find her, but they sure found me.

  Exposed fangs appear in front of my face. The siren’s shimmering body registers after the glint of her threat.

  “Where is she?” she hisses.

  You know better than I do, I think, but don’t say it.

  “Who?” I say innocently.

  Three more appear, blocking my way. I swallow. I knew finding her this way was a long shot, but I had to try. It’s still promising that they haven’t pulled her into the depths yet. But a lost siren wandering the seas... isn’t much safer.

  I look back up. The surface is only barely visible, the sun a small glare above. I know I must give up—for now. Perhaps there is another way. But if there is one thing I realize, is that giving up too soon is what put me in this mess. Fear of failure caused me to lose my shot at success.

  But not again.

  Until she’s controlling my every move again, I’ll keep trying to find her. And pull her back up to the surface.

  Whitley

  Water fills my everything. At first, it’s the exact comfort I’ve been longing for. It’s what I’ve needed.

  But soon it’s pushing and pulling at me, pressuring me to move this way, not that. Then the sounds come. The melodies, eerie and distant. Those are the sounds of my nightmares.

  I wanted to join the sea so I’d be away from the pain. Away from the confusion and hopelessness. But images of those creatures pulling me under, as I struggle to get away, suffocating in their grasp, sends a panic through my whole body. They’re memories perhaps I shouldn’t have. But I do. And I will use them.

  More memories—her face, the queen of the sirens, smiling as they taunt him on the deck of a ship. Pain stabs my stomach. I swallow and quickly push away from the pull. I know it’s her on the other end. I know those sounds will lead me back to the Siren Queen.

  She only wants to use me.

  She wants me to hurt someone I love. Even if he hates me now, I won’t let her do it.

  So I use my power and bolt—flying through the water at a speed that surprises me. The cool of the salty liquid drifts over my body, filling me. It soaks in, healing my thirsty skin.

  I’m able to move the way I want to, and it feels good. It’s so freeing to be what I am, but not submissive to someone else’s command. They can’t control my mind. They
can’t control my body—not if they don’t catch me.

  So I keep moving. I keep swimming. Away from any melodies I hear. The whoops and the calls that I can only barely understand.

  They can’t have me.

  Bluff

  Rosemera shouts to the crew to toss me a rope the second she spots me in the open water. The climb back on board is a difficult one. The barely healed wound over my heart burns, but I manage it in a few minutes time.

  She grabs me under my arms and helps with my last heave to fall onto the deck, waterlogged. Then she smacks me against the head.

  “The hell are you thinking?” she asks.

  I laugh, coughing and gasping. “You’re the one that told me to fight.”

  “Well I didn’t mean an entire army of sirens by yourself, dummy!”

  “I wasn’t going to fight them. I just wanted to find her first.”

  She sighs. “I suppose that didn’t work?”

  I shake my head. “Not yet. But they don’t have her either, and I have a plan.”

  “Do you?”

  “Crew won’t like it,” I can’t help a smirk despite the acid stinging in my stomach. “But yes.”

  ROSEMERA IS ON BOARD with my plan, but we elect not to tell the crew—or the captain.

  “I must admit, I’m surprised you’d accept my insane plans.” I raise my eyebrows, waiting for a response. I know she said she wanted me to be happy, but to this extent? Risking the crew for it? I’d anticipated needing to do this my own. Regardless, I’m relieved to have an accomplice.

  I can just make out the silhouette approaching from across the dark ship. She’s on crow’s nest duty, and everyone else has made themselves scarce. We only have an hour or so of quiet, though, before we’ll very likely have a visitor or two. Wordlessly, we grab the longboat and put it into place through strenuous effort.

  My plan was just to dive straight into the dark water and figure out a way back aboard later. But Rosemera wouldn’t have it.

  “You’re not getting in the water with those vicious things!” she whispered-yelled at me in the galley while we talked through our options. She’s right to think it’s riskier if I’m in the water, but only marginally. It would be all too easy for Azelea, or any other siren, to tip the boat over if they wanted me. She must realize this, but I pass up the opportunity to point it out.

  I almost wonder if Rosemera doubts my self-control around a siren I’ve had...history with. I pray that’s not true. I wouldn’t ever consider touching her.

  Coming face to face with any siren is unpleasant; this one even more so—but it’s worth it. She’s the only one I might, possibly, be able to pry a bit of information from.

  Rosemera doesn’t speak as we work, which makes sense given the situation, but there’s still tension here that feels wrong. She’s more nervous than I am, and I suppose I can’t blame her. No one likes sirens. Calling one sounds like insanity. Talking to one... even stupider.

  I take this as a testament of her trust in me.

  I step inside the longboat and pause, studying her shadowed face.

  “Why are you doing this?” I ask.

  She bites her lip and grips the rope tightly. “I just think love should be fought for.”

  That’s new. “Well, if I can ever return the favor—be sure to let me know, yeah?”

  She ignores the comment. “Besides, I know you’d do something even more stupid if I don’t help you.” She awkwardly avoids eye contact and begins feeding the rope with tense effort as I’m lowered towards the water and away from her. She’ll stay on deck as a lookout and to help be back on board when the time is right.

  I purse my lips, wondering if there’s something she hasn’t told me. Have I been too wrapped up in my self-pity to pay attention to her? She did mention she had quite the adventure—but she’d never told me about it.

  Was there a... love interest involved in that adventure? I suddenly long to ask, but I’m already half way down the ship, near the rocking waves.

  The boat stops just about a foot or so above the rushing water below, and I brace myself. “Ready?” she calls. The ship is still moving—we slowed it down considerably, but stopping it altogether would require an anchor, and that the slumbering crew would surely notice. This part is rather delicate.

  “One,” I count. “Two. Three.” We both release the ropes enough for it to land in the water. It crashes and wobbles in the rushing waves. The front hits the side of the ship and dips down, almost enough to be pulled under. I yelp and barely manage to keep a hold of my slippery rope—the only thing keeping me from being left behind by the still moving ship.

  The longboat stabilizes, and I pull back on the rope, letting my little boat drift back, back, back. Until there is only enough rope to get one good knot at the front loop.

  I secure a good tie and catch my breath, shaking out my burning limbs. Swimming was definitely the better idea. Waiting until we docked would have been a much more ideal—at least Azalea’s power would be dimmed in shallow water— but it would have taken too long. Time is of the essence now.

  I tap my toe nervously and peer out over the black water, barely able to see a thing. Then I take in a deep breath and sing out one long, somber note. It floats through the wind, almost disappearing completely. But I know she’ll hear it. It’s my note. She’ll be listening for it, the way she’s been listening for it for years.

  She may not want me the way I once wished she would, but she’s certainly eager for me to want her again. She’ll be disappointed. I’ll never desire her again.

  Once I’m content with my call, I lie back to wait and stare up at the dark blue sky.

  Less than five minutes later there is a stirring in the water.

  Bluff

  Her head rises from the water slowly, dark hair glistening. Her eyes are silver, glowing like the moon. Freckles scatter across her cheeks, her lips full and inviting.

  The moment those lips are visible, they curl into a smile. Her eyes dig into me, pinning me down—or trying to, as least. The terror and disgust that fills me is enough to fight off the draw. Or perhaps it’s my own siren magic that makes me immune. Either way, I won’t fall under her hypnosis.

  Unsuspecting sailors may tell another story. Sirens have a way of making them think they want them. Desperately. For those moments, they feel more desirable than any man on earth.

  Luckily, I know better.

  So even though her expression says she’d love to rip my clothes off right there on the spot, I stare her down and remember what I need.

  “Bluff,” she purrs seductively, pulling herself up and propping her arms on the edge of the longboat, chin resting on those. Eyes sharp and fierce.

  “Azalea,” I say flatly.

  “I’ve been wondering when you’d call.” Her voice is so soft, floating through the cool wind. Her head tilts to the side so innocently.

  I clench my jaw. There was a point in time when I’d melt with just this one look. I was so desperate to be wanted. Desired. Especially by a siren. It’s not like I can be a victim; she doesn’t want to drown me the way they do other humans. She couldn’t feed on me.

  But what I learned the hard way with sweet Azalea here is that a siren still desires control. Whether she ever cared for me at all is moot.

  “I’m desperate.” I shrug.

  “Oh, don’t say that. You only want me now that you lost your little human toy? I’m no backup plan, Bluff.” She slithers her way up, pulling her glistening body, covered in onyx scales, onto the side of the boat, which rocks and tilts so that gravity pulls me towards her. I wedge my foot against the edge to resist.

  “Well you certainly aren’t my first choice,” I roll my eyes.

  She pouts her lips. “Why don’t you come for a swim?” she asks, and bats her eyes.

  “Not a chance,” I say, suddenly glad Rosemera convinced me to use the longboat, despite the inconvenience. I could have talked with her in the water just as easily, but then I’d be in h
er territory, where she could push herself on me as much as she wanted.

  “You know why I called you, and it wasn’t for a tumble in the waves.”

  “No?” she says with a mischievous smile.

  I clench my hands in tight fists, half tempted to shove my boot right into her scaled hip and send her back to the depths where she belongs. But I came out here for a reason.

  “Where is she?” I say firmly.

  “Who?” she sings.

  “Holy shit, Azalea. Stop playing with me.”

  Her smile grows.

  I close my eyes and try to remember that Azalea is supposed to be an ally. An ally who brings with her bitter memories. An ally I’ll never fully trust, but still—someone I need to trust me or she’ll scuttle off without giving me what I need. “Did you ever care about me at all?” I say in a near whisper.

  She grows still. She doesn’t swallow or shift her eyes. I’m unsure if she’s even breathing for that long, silent moment.

  “Of course I did,” she whispers. “Is that—”

  “No,” I cut her off with a quiet but firm voice. “That’s not what this is about. But if you cared about me, even the slightest bit, you’d do me this small favor. It wouldn’t even compromise your allegiance to my mother.”

  “What do want?” she says, her voice suddenly flat. She casts her gaze across the open water.

  “Just to know if you have her. That’s it.”

  She doesn’t turn to me again. She remains in the boat, body twisted and bent in an unnatural way, glistening and dripping wet. I find myself wondering what I even found alluring about her in the first place.

  Probably just the way she looked at me. I was young then, and being wanted was a new experience. The idea of belonging to the sirens—where I assumed I was supposed to belong—was another major piece to that embarrassing puzzle. If she could love me, perhaps my mother could too.