Thick fibrous vines cut into the palm of Sorcha's hand as she leaned back and pulled with all her might. Gendry looked down at the three layers of knotted vines that pinned him to a palm tree at the edge of the beach. The vines groaned against Sorcha's weight, but her knots held.

"Are you sure about this plan?" Gendry eyed the choppy sea. Foam washed ashore, reaching towards them with spectral fingers. Soon its call would be irresistible to him.

"Would you like me to lie to you?" She asked, entirely serious. From the moment she'd explained her plan, Gendry had been worrying. Both for her safety and his own. "I have no idea if this will work. But at least I know I probably won't drown you." Sorcha stepped back to assess her work. Gendry stood with his arms pinned beside him, firelight flickered across his skin, and even at the forest's edge, the heat was sweltering. A mountainous bonfire of sticks and leaves and anything dry enough to burn would serve as a beacon for their soon-to-be rescuers. She bit her lip as she caught his eye and saw the fear behind them.

"Don't get too close, okay?" His voice was soft but loud enough that she could hear it over the crackling fire and roaring waves. "Fishermen put their nets over the side. If you get tangled it won't end well for either of us."

"I learned my lesson the last time. Trust me." Sorcha swallowed hard. Dyvon was first the victim of her naivety, and she wouldn't allow Gendry to be another. Sand sank between her toes as she stepped towards him. He searched her face for a sign. Of what, she did not know. But she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his cheek. His skin was warm and flushed from the heat, and Gendry was glad that this hid the blush that tinted his cheeks. "See you soon," Sorcha whispered and turned towards the sea. Her oversized undershirt lay in the sand beside him, and the moonlight reflected on the perfect skin of her back, accentuating the lines of her shoulder blades and the exaggerated curve of her hips. Gendry watched, lips taut with worry, as she dove into the midnight blue waters. Her tail flashed a moment later, and then the sea returned to its push and pull as if nothing had disturbed it.

Sorcha's hair rippled behind her as she flicked her tail hard. A grin graced her lips despite the severity of her situation. She was once again free and untamed in the ocean. If she shut her eyes, she could almost imagine Dyvon was beside her, racing to the last piece of coral at the reef's edge. Now and again, she would pull herself skyward and let her head breach the surface. Fire blazed in the distance, as visible as Gendry had promised it to be. The light would guide her back to him, and she would bring their salvation along with her.

If ever she lost sight of it. Gendry had pointed to the brightest star in the sky and told her that if she was lost, to follow it back to him. She kept glancing between it and the fire. Praying that neither would wink out of existence while she was off in the pitch black of night. But alas, her fears were confirmed. To find a ship, she would have to venture further than the light, far from Gendry and the safety of their island. The silence was deafening. Beneath the sea all alone. Occasionally she would pass a school of silver-scaled fish or a group of sea turtles, but between there was nothing but silence.

She remained close to the surface, popping up to scan the horizon every few moments in case she were to miss something. The stars welcomed the company, looking down upon her like a bloom of glowing jellies. Sorcha found herself growing tired and had to halt her journey for a while. Floating on her back in the middle of an endless ocean, she prayed for a sign.

It came not long after, in the form of a floating light on the horizon. Not Gendry's fire, and certainly not a star. It bobbed and grew brighter as she watched. Hope sparked within her, and without a second thought, she dove into the water and shot towards it.

The light was undeniably a ship. The closer Sorcha got, the easier it was to distinguish. Massive white sails reflected the light of lanterns scattered across the deck. No one was singing. There was no drunken laughter like with The Carnivale. Most of the men must've been below deck. As she got close enough to make out the deck, she only saw two heads. Neither was too joyful at being awake at such an hour. One manned the helm, keeping their ship on course, and the other monitored the sails. They were none the wiser to the Mermaid watching them from the waters below. Sorcha looked to the brightest star in the sky and smiled.

"My Bonnie lies over the ocean

My Bonnie lies over the sea

My Bonnie lies over the ocean

Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me..."

Her voice drifted up the side of the ship like a spectral wind. It echoed all around the sailors, coming from every direction at once, yet none at all. Their heads snapped up, eyes glazed and haunted. Gradually more and more sailors emerged from the belly of the ship. No matter where they looked, Sorcha remained unseen. Dipped and bobbing, she dodged their sight. Still, her song was heard by all. She was a Siren, just like the warriors that protected the Pod. This was what she had aspired to be. The ship's captain ordered his men to turn the about, to chase after the beautiful voice of a woman fair. Had he been in his right mind, he never would've led his crew astray. But the Siren song was a powerful sound, a spell over all who had the pleasure and misfortune of hearing it. Every seaman knew the legends, the vile creatures that lead men to their watery grave in the halls of The Drowned God. Once a man heard her song, all would be forgotten. He would do anything to reach her. Few had ever heard one, or if they did, few lived to tell about it.

Captain Hornigold had heard of Sirens in these waters, though never in the way mariners spoke of the northern waters. The North was a rare place ventured by sea. Creatures far worse than he had ever encountered plagued any who dared to sail that far north. Sirens were among the worst. Now, The Captain found himself a slave to the song of that very predator. Despite ages of warnings and foreboding sea shanties of the like, he couldn't help but follow.

"Last night as I lay on my pillow

Last night as I lay on my bed

Last night as I lay on my pillow

I dreamt that my Bonnie was dead."

Sorcha swam at pace with the vessel, always a safe distance ahead. She heeded Gendry's warning, though she suspected this was not the same type of ship that had taken Dyvon. A thrill of adrenaline warmed her to the core. It was easy to see how one could become drunk with the powerful hold she kept the sailors. With the slightest shift of her voice, Sorcha could convince them to throw themselves into the sea. From what she'd heard of the northern Merling pods, it was altogether possible to become vicious and cold as the sea itself.

Her eyes remained trained on the brightest star, the compass to guide her back to Gendry. It had been hours since she'd left him, and she hoped he would be alright tied to a tree. It would be awfully uncomfortable. But Sorcha couldn't risk Gendry hearing her song and following blindly to a watery death. Now that she had a hold over the ship, the trip back to their island would be a swift one. The moment Sorcha caught sight of the flickering golden light in the distance, she relaxed into the waves. Muscles uncoiled, and she let out a breath of relief. She had found him again.

"Oh blow ye winds over the ocean

Oh blow ye winds over the sea

Oh blow ye winds over the ocean

and bring back my Bonnie to me."

The flames had died down significantly, and now the blaze was just a small campfire. It would take a bit more effort on her end to convince the ship to investigate their signal. Her voice drew them just beside the island. Sorcha had the good sense to keep them far enough that it didn't look like the siren had been taking them to the island intentionally. But the fire was undeniable. When her song concluded, the ocean returned to its methodical push and pull. Sorcha dove towards the shore.

Aboard the ship, sailors stumbled and swayed. Suddenly the allure of a divine voice was no longer, and they abruptly returned to their senses. It was like being dumped in a bucket of Ice water after a luxurious bath. Their nerves, played like the strings of a violin and drenched in warm honey liquor, were ravaged and burnt. Some emptied their stomachs over the side. Others, the more seasoned sailors, set their jaws and swallowed the rising sickness.

"What the fuck was that?" The First Mate clenched the rail until his knuckles turned white. Captain Hornigold spared him not a glance, for his gaze locked on the brightening horizon. His entire stance was stiff with tension, from the set of his shoulders to the lines of his neck.

"That, my friend, was a Siren." His voice was as rough as gravel, from years of shouting orders and smoking more than his share of Volantian cigars.

"Cap'n!" Hornigold looked up towards the glowing lantern illuminating the crow's nest and the Barrelman leaning over the side. "There's a flame off the port side! Looks like a distress signal!" The man pointed off to the left, and the captain unhooked the spyglass from his belt. It was a small uninhabited island. One overgrown and surrounded by rocky waters judging by the way the sea moved in choppy patterns. He could faintly make out a fire on the beach, just as the Barrelman had claimed. Hornigold snapped the spyglass shut with a snap and turned to his men. Some color had returned to their faces, but it was a motley crew, to be sure, some better off than others. There would surely be a need for new crew members when they docked again.

"We make land." He shouted. "Perhaps this castaway has something of value." A few men looked about to argue, but Hornigold was a steely, frightening man. Questioning him would be a mistake. From the water, Sorcha smiled as she saw the two rowboats launch towards land, carrying five men ashore.

Blood tainted the water of Dyvon's tank as she pressed herself against the side. A storm of gnashing teeth and glittering scales was all she could see. Dyvon had come to dread mealtimes with all of her being. Chunks of fish flesh floated about, swirling wildly in the current. She wouldn't dare venture into the fray, even if it meant getting a larger portion than the scraps left behind. She waited until the worst was over, and the most dangerous of her companions had their fill before darting out from the shadows and snatching a handful of shredded meat. A territorial and feral hiss escaped her as a fat, bulging-eyed fish took hold of her prize and tried to rip it from her grasp. It hurried away from her, knowing that in this situation, she was the apex predator.

Dyvon nibbled on the repulsive rubbery scrap, only gagging twice in the process. The attractions, as Captain Slank liked to call his prizes, were fed the scraps of what the sailors got. It was unclear how edible the fish was, to begin with, and by the time Dyvon ate, it was partially rotted and unrecognizable. A thick layer of sharp bones had settled at the bottom of their tank, and each day the pile grew.

Dyvon stuck close to the surface, close enough to see the faint beams of moonlight filtering down through the grate. The other creatures rarely bothered her there. She spent most of her hours in a state of limbo, her mind on the comforts of home and the people she loved most. Sorcha was the one she thought of the most. Her sister was likely tearing herself apart with guilt. She wondered if the Sirens would come to rescue her from The Carnivale. Somehow, Dyvon knew that they wouldn't. The Pod would grieve, sing a song of lament for her lost soul. The Drowned God was her only companion now, and even he did not return her prayers.

"Hello?" Dyvon's head snapped towards the sky, her hair dragging through the water behind her. There was a shadow cast over her, rippling with the sloshing water of the tank. Squinting, Dyvon tried to make out who it was. Was it Slank, back to taunt her with his plans for her? Or one of the sailors, smearing down at her like she was a piece of meat dangled before starving dogs. This was a much smaller shadow knelt beside the grate.

Navi peered through the holes of the grate with a mix of fascination and fear. His call felt much louder in the quiet of the night. A ripple of terror ran down his spine at the thought of what Slank would do if he caught the boy meddling with his attractions. There were only a few men above deck that night, and from where they stood post, none would see him.

He saw the pure porcelain of her skin move beneath the murky waters, and when her face parted the surface, he didn't flinch. He was scared enough, having seen her hissing and spitting, clawing at the sailors who tried to capture her. Navi didn't want to think of what she might do to him if the lock came undone. But as his eyes met hers, glittering onyx in the hazy moonlight, there was no malice behind them. He saw only terror, sorrow, and now curiosity. Her head cocked, brows knitting together to form the slightest crease in her forehead.

"Can you understand me?" Navi whispered, studying every pull of her face and twitch of her brows. Gradually, Dyvon nodded, dipping low in the water, so it came to just below her lips. She assessed the boy from below, his wide innocent eyes, hair the same as hers, but cropped short and uneven. His skin was warm and deep, the color of dark sands marred with puckered scars a few shades lighter. He was different from the other men who had come to taunt her. He didn't reach through the bars to try, and snatch her hair or laugh at the way she shrank back in fear.

"Are you going to hurt me?" Navi pulled back in surprise. Her voice was light and melodic, as pure as the wind that swept over land and sea. It didn't belong to a monster. Navi hadn't expected the Merling to speak, let alone the same language. Leaning in closer, he couldn't hide the growing intrigue in his eyes.

"I don't want to hurt you." He hesitated, biting the inside of his cheek. "Do you want to hurt me?" Dyvon frowned, her eyes drooping with sorrow. She shook her head. Shoulders relaxing, Navi crossed his legs beneath him. "My name is Navi. What's yours?"

"Dyvon."

"Huh," Navi mulled the name over in his mind. It suited her, though. He'd half expected her name to be a series of clicks and squeaks like a porpoise. "That's pretty." Navi reached into the little pouch he'd brought along. "Do you want something to eat?" He brandished a piece of dried and salted meat. It wasn't much, but Dyvon began to salivate at the sight of something other than chum. Navi tugged it in two with a bit of effort and warily dangled it through a hole in the grate. Dyvon looked at it for a moment, searching for any sign of deceit. There were none. Slowly she reached up towards him and took the offered meat.

"Thank you." Tears sprung in her eyes. Such a tiny gesture of kindness he had given her, but the only one she had received since being taken. She took a bite, and Navi began to nibble on his half. Navi didn't ask for anything other than her name but watched as the Merling shut her eyes to savor every bite of something he often took for granted. He knew then that Dyvon was not a monster, just a girl, lost and afraid, just as he had been.

NOTE

I'm so excited for the next chapters because the story is really starting to get going now. What are your predictions for their encounter with this ship? Will they be friendly or not? - Vi