The Red Revenge had a smug air about it. I'd decided to wave it down from the land. I let my hair drip down my back as I trudged down the beach.

A rope was tossed down to me. It wasn't even worth taking a break from the celebration to lower a gangplank. I took a deep breath and walked out the few feet to the ship. I had to walk so my waist was submerged before I could reach the rope.

My body's lower half didn't decide it wanted to become a fish until I took a breath of saltwater. I kept my head above the water, leaving me human, wet, and miserable. I pulled myself on board to be wrapped in my father's arms. 

"You had a big night." He pointed out.

I nodded.

"Get some sleep, child!" His hand motions were big and excited as he led me to his cabin.

I didn't object as I flopped, wetness and all onto the little hammock he'd hung for me ever since I was little. Sleep came easily for me.

ψψψ

I liked breakfast at the Red Revenge. Anyone that was worth talking to had already gone deaf from the cannon blasts years ago. They signed quickly, with ease that drew me to them.

They narrated their exploits with a vitality that made me smile and forget how horrible it had been. Their stories had cannons running down an immoral enemy and sirens bestowing justice in the waters below. The story had the sea wiping everything away, not drowning someone who could've been them.

Eventually, the attention turned to me.

"And you sirens! We can't thank you enough."

"Yeah. You had them taken care of for us," my father interjected. "Give your mother our appreciation."

I nodded, not sure how to articulate my disgust at the whole thing.

"Dad," I signed carefully. "Do you really mean that?"

"Yeah. Thank you, baby." He signed "baby" with his arms like he was swaddling an infant. I looked at him incredulously.

"You know the other ship drowned," I prompted, leaving out the fact that a good amount of them hadn't actually done that very thing.

"That's a sailor's lot," he beamed.

"Wouldn't you do anything to help them?"

"It was them or us." He went to his go-to defense. He gestured away from him, banged his fists together and then gestured to loop in a small group made of the people closest to him. 

"What would you do if it wasn't them against us?"

He shrugged, picking up his fork to shove food in his mouth.

Juniper had offered before I left to include me in the voyage she'd decided was necessary. She decided we had an obligation to the survivors.

The horrible thing was that she was right.

"Dad," I signed again. "What would you say if I went away for a little while?"

He furrowed his eyebrows. "Go away?"

"Yeah. Me and some of the other sirens want to go up the coast."

"It's dangerous," he warned condescendingly.

"I'm not scared," I rebutted.

He looked down at his food. "After breakfast, we're going to talk."

We both finished our food quickly so we could have our coming argument behind closed doors.

He closed the door after me and went to his grand desk to pull out his conversation ending documents.

He practically threw a map at me. 

"Every 'X' on there is where I knew a man that died."

I ran my fingers over the little red Xs. "I'm not a man," I smiled coyly.

He huffed. "What does your mother say?"

"She doesn't know," I signed. "And I assume you don't want to tell her?"

He shuddered. "No. I don't want to tell her."

I sat on my hammock. "I thought you were grateful."

"Not grateful enough to give her a chance to murder me," he scowled.

"Whatever you say," I said, knowing if I infuriated him too much, he'd stop arguing for my safety to throw me off the ship himself.

"She's a monster."

"Whatever you say." I looked at his worry worn face. "But she is the mother of your child."

His face turned to beat red. I watched as he quickly changed tactic. "Why do you want to go anyway?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, it matters. I'm not going to have my only daughter traipsing around the world on a whim."

I took a deep breath. "I want to get away from all this. It's too much, Dad."

"You can stay with me if you want," he tried.

"And what? Replace your figurehead?"

"You know how to run the ship, Arriana. Don't try to make it like you'd be useless. We'd all love to have you."

"And you think Mom would just be fine with that?"

"We can deal with her." He said, the lie showing in his eyes.

"We?"

He sighed. "You?" He tried.

I shook my head. "No, Dad. I'm leaving."

"Where are you going?"

"Carnma."

"Why?" He was trying to fish the truth out of me.

I shook my head and made for the door. He blocked me, his body filling the whole door. "Why," he repeated, his feet planted, blocking my exit.

"I need to get away. I already said." He didn't move.

"Why? Ariana, you're not leaving until you tell me why."

I didn't move.

"Does it have something to do with last night?"

I looked at his beard rather than his face.

"I thought so. There were survivors, right?"

I looked up so I saw his whole face.

"You don't get it," I said, my finger flicking disdainfully to the ceiling.

"Arriana, are random strangers really worth the effort? Just stay here."

"You don't get it," I repeated.

"I can talk to your mother. We can take care of it."

"How? I don't want more death."

He wouldn't meet my eyes. "Your mother and I will take care of it."

"How?"

"Arriana," he signed, moving towards me. "This isn't enough to change your whole life for."

His arms wrapped around me, partly in a hug and party to keep me from responding.

I struggled against his hold. He let me go eventually.

He looked at me as he moved to the door. "You really don't get it," I told him.

He shook his head, left, and closed the door behind him. I ran forward and felt the lock click as my hands were on the doorknob.

I took a deep breath. This hadn't gone well.