Chapter 69

  Nereida’s first instinct when she had been ordered below had been to argue. She was awash in hurt and anger, fearing that her wife still did not trust her to be on deck, that her wife saw her as a liability. But when Ael had spoken in the strange, not-quite-her tones that Nereida had come to think of as Ael’s prophecy voice, she gave in. Who was she to argue with fate? She huddled in the darkness below deck, a candle her only light, while Kana and her husband prowled around as well, waiting for the worst. Neither of the other sirens had much in the way of sea-legs, and they stumbled and tripped, banging their shins on shelving, their elbows on barrels and their heads on doorways.

  They had been beneath in the hold for more than an hour before the ship began groaning as it was tossed about. Nereida worried something terrible was happening above deck, but there was nothing she could do now. Everything below was secured, but she had concerns about rope snapping and dropping a barrel on one of their heads. That concern fluttered away when a much more pressing concern presented itself. The ship crashed into something outside. The sound was horrific; splintering wood, the rush of water. Nereida cried out for the others, and they scrambled, faltering and falling, until they found the wound in the side of the ship. The water poured in, relentless, uncaring. The ocean would cim the whole ship if they did not do something. Nereida began to sing, loudly, a tune the sylph’s had taught her. The other two sirens made their own harmonies. Together they wove their magic, pushing the ocean out the hole it tried to bleed in through.

  The magic pulsed, danced. It was painful to keep singing, to deny the ocean what she wanted. But Nereida and the others kept singing. More than three hundred souls would die if they faltered. She thought of Ael, of Epelda, of Basiano, his daughter and the egg. They mattered more than the three hundred. She could not falter! She reached for the hands of the others, letting her magic join with theirs. Combining songs was a heady feeling, and her vision swam. Terror and self-preservation warred with duty and love.

  Time had no meaning, only the song and the water. She was not sure how long they sang, but she could feel herself weakening, she could hear the man faltering. And then something cut through the darkness. A new voice, vaguely familiar. Jules! His song joined theirs, and she felt a moment of respite. And in that respite, a new terror. Jules was supposed to be with her sons! Where were they? Her question was answered within moments of it popping into her head. Joining in their song were two small, high voices, singing a child’s nursery rhyme in unison. Her heart wanted to stop. She wanted to yell, to send them to safety. The children should not be helping! But they sang on, and she could not stop her song without risking others. Tears flowed down her face. She couldn’t see the boys, just hear them.

  Nereida prayed as she sang; prayed to the ocean for mercy and prayed to the moon that she might calm her beloved. Her voice hurt, her eyes stung with tears she did not dare shed. She could feel the male siren’s grip beginning to slip. The magic would kill them all soon. Had Ael sent her down here to die? No, she wouldn’t! Not even to save the crew….

  A final violent motion sent all the singers hurtling into walls, barrels and shelves. The ship was tilted on her side, the gaping wound opened up to the air. Seagulls called out in the distance, and thunder answered, echoing farther and farther away. Nereida pulled herself to her feet, staggering about because of the sudden stillness of it all. Her head hurt and something warm oozed down the side of her face. Was she bleeding?

  “Mama!” Alejo’s voice cut through her confusion. “Mama!!!” She heard his panic, and focused on that. She picked her way across the tilted floor, to where the stairs were. Alejo and Egaz were at the bottom of the stairs. Jules was between them, his head bleeding, his eyes shut, his breathing ragged.

  “I’m here,” she managed, pulling the boys into her arms. “Help me. Sing the moon’s lulby.” They nodded and sang, their voices shaking with fear and exhaustion. Nereida joined them, her own voice hoarse with strain, but with the help of her children’s magic, she was able to close the wound on Jules’s head. She felt strange, joining with her children in song, and something seemed off about Egaz’s magic, but she chalked it up to his terror. The poor little one was shaking in her arms.

  A cry came from above, voices all echoing the first cry.

  “Abandon ship!” Nereida felt her stomach clench at that. Ael must be beside herself! She called out to the sirens, warning them. They called back that they would go out the hole and assess the damage.

  “We will meet you at the isnd. Give us the Storyteller. He won’t survive long in the air.”

  “Take care of him, please.” Nereida bowed to them, and then scrambled up the stairs with her children.

  Climbing the stairs was difficult, but navigating the halls of the tilted ship was nearly impossible. Her children clung to her tightly, as sailors pushed past them. So many were simply trying to get to safety. Once she reached the deck with the children, it became obvious why. There were not enough row boats to get everyone to shore, and the tide was coming in. The fear in the air was thick enough she could taste it. Two boats were at sea, more than halfway to the isnd already. Three more were being loaded, but two of the rowboats had been damaged by the storm.

  Nereida looked out at the two boats that were halfway to the isnd. She saw her brother, Epelda, Dymion, Evander and two others on one. Dymion held her egg, and Basiano had a bundle tied to his front that was likely his daughter. Nereida felt a surge of relief. Her family was safe. Where was Ael? She looked around, spotting her wife at the helm. Ael was as pale as a demon, her hands locked to the wheel, her eyes staring ahead, almost unseeing.

  “Put the boys on the next boat,” she said to the crewman who seemed to be in charge of loading the boat they were lowering.

  “There’s room in this one,” he replied crisply. “Admiral’s orders, children are first.” Egaz cried out in fear.

  “Mommy! Come too!”

  “I can help here, little loves,” she replied. “I will be alright. Trust me.” Alejo was crying, but he let himself be led into the boat. He sat between two sailors, leaning on one and sobbing. The startled sailor patted him awkwardly, clearly unsure of how to comfort a small boy. Egaz crossed his arms and huffed.

  “Don’t let step-mama get stuck,” Egaz said softly. “The Ocean is sad today but she didn’t mean it. Her feelings are just too big.”

  “I know, Egaz. Please go with your brother. Let him protect you.” Nereida was not quite sure what her child was trying to get across to her, but she did not have time to parse it out. She needed her children to be safe.

  “Fine, mama. Love you.” And the boy went without further protest.

  Nereida picked her way through the chaos to her wife. Gregors was still tied to the wheel, his colour nearly gone. She could not tell if he was breathing, but there was so much blood.

  “If you heal him, love, I don’t know if you make it,” Ael said, still staring into the distance. She blinked slowly, as if it were painful to do so. “Please, love, get on a boat.”

  “Not without you.”

  “Captain’s st. That is my duty.”

  “Ael!”

  “Admiral.” She finally looked at Nereida, her expression hard. “I must be the Admiral now. Are you refusing a direct order?”

  “What order?” Nereida returned, crossing her arms. Ael faltered, and her mask, her armour, all of it fell away until only her vulnerability was left.

  “Don’t make this harder, love. Please. Ner. I can’t… I can’t be hard if you are here. I can’t make the tough choices.” She gnced down at Gregors.

  “Hard things snap,” Nereida replied. “Let me help. Please.” She took a step toward Gregors, and then another. She could see Ael was fighting tears. “I can’t drown, love. I’m not in danger.”

  The Admiral nodded once, stepping back to let Nereida work. The dark-haired woman began calling out orders again, sending all non-essential crew to the shore.

  “I need ten volunteers to stay,” she added. “Ten who are willing to risk themselves for the ship alongside me.” She paused and gred at Nereida. “Not you,” she added in a quiet tone. “I need to know our children are safe. They need a parent, if this goes sideways. Promise me, love, that when the st row boat goes, you are on it.” Nereida closed her eyes, hating herself. She wanted to say no, to stand beside her wife and prove she was not useless. But her children needed her more.

  “I promise, Ael.”

  She helped with the chaos by taking charge of one of the boats. She put on a mask of calm. This was not an emergency, she told herself. This was a drill. Gregors was breathing, and he had been evacuated. There were no other major injuries, except to the Tooth. Everything was fine. Everything was fine.

  It took hours to fully evacuate the ship. Hours that she pstered a false air of calmness on herself. Hours that she had to force the image of her children from her mind. Hours that she spent not knowing if her magic was enough to save Jules. And when the st row boat was filling up, she went to her wife.

  “I love you, Ael,” she said fiercely. She kissed Ael’s cheek. Not the goodbye kiss she wanted, but she knew more would make Ael deeply uncomfortable with their audience. “Don’t be stupid.”

  “I’ll see you in a day or two,” Ael replied. It was not quite the promise Nereida wanted, but she knew it would have to do. “And I love you too. Now leave. That’s an order.”

  Tears stung her eyes, but Nereida forced them away. She made herself be the Princess, a figure who exuded calmness and confidence even as her world crumbled around her. She held on to her feigned confidence until their boat was nearly ashore. She could see the rest of her family on the shore, gathered around Dymion and Evander. Once they were in the shallows, before they could properly moor the boat, Nereida leapt out, running through the waves until she reached her boys, her daughter, and her brother. It was only then, seeing them safe, that she let the torrent of emotions wash over her and drown her. She sobbed into her brother’s chest as her children clung to her legs.

  Just when it seemed like they were able to catch their breath, it felt as if fate pulled them under again. She felt her son’s small hands clinging to her.

  “It’s okay to cry, mommy,” Alejo whispered. “We have you.” Her heart shattered. It should not have been up to her children to comfort her at all. She pulled them in close, knowing the boy was just mimicking what she would say to them.

  “I know,” she whispered. “I love you.” She felt Epelda’s slender hand on her shoulder, and she looked up through her tears, repeating the words “I love you,” to her daughter as well.

  “Mom?” Epelda signed.

  “Still aboard the ship. I will go talk to her in the morning.”

  Nereida finally let herself look around. They were on a rge isnd, the sandy beach they had nded on giving way to a thick forest. There were birds singing merrily, having been woken up by the loud noises of the crew. Nereida recognized some of the pnts from her st isnd, and warned Dymion about two that would cause irritation on the skin if touched. The gnome nodded, and asked her about other pnts, edible ones and ones that burned well. They needed to know what they could safely harvest if they were trapped for a while. She went over what she knew, finding soce in being helpful.

  The sky was still dark with clouds, the sun not quite ready to rise. Nereida brought her children to the dry sand, encouraging them to rest on her p. They were asleep quickly, exhausted from their ordeal. Dymion put the egg in her p as well, before he set off to find some ferns for people to start sleeping on. Around them, the beach hummed with worry as the crew stared out helplessly at their ship. The Tooth was visible from shore, caught on a sandbar. And from the worried whispers, the crew were concerned that her wound was a mortal one, that this new isnd would be their new home… or their graves.