Kingdom of Salt and Sirens

by J. A. Armitage

  Would she see him again? Or would she wake up soon? Whatever happened, she hoped it wouldn’t keep her from the water, her solace, for long. She truly wouldn’t survive if it did.

  3

  Fog

  Asaria moved the curtain and glanced out the window at the ocean as the sun sank low. She tapped her foot and kept her phone pressed against her ear while it rang. Uneasiness rose from someplace deep in her gut.

  A storm brewed, dark clouds boiling in the sky like a cauldron about to overflow.

  All throughout her shower, she’d replayed what had happened in her mind, attempting to come to terms with it. Over and over, she nearly drowned. Closing her eyes, she shook her head. “Quit drifting,” she whispered. Everywhere had criminals. She could focus on being the unlucky target, or she could focus on the fact it had opened an entire world up to her—if Yuval had meant what he’d said about showing her Ocea. A tingle ran along her skin, and she rubbed her arm. Magic and adventure lay before her. Something more thrilling than riding the tube, completely surrounded by a crashing wave and still breathing.

  She chewed her lip, heart racing. For once in her life it felt like she had a secret all her own.

  “Finally,” her mother’s voice buzzed through the line, and Asaria jumped, turning away from the window. Her mother continued, tone cold, “I’ve been calling you all afternoon, honey.”

  “Sorry, I was swimming.”

  A pause and a sigh. “Of course you were. I hope your friends aren’t still around?”

  Asaria ruffled her hair. That was the rule. If she was in the ocean, she wouldn’t be alone because God forbid anything happen to her while she was getting this little “hobby” out of her system. “No, they left.”

  “Good, good. Now, as we were discussing the other night, your sister is going to be graduating college soon, and that was our deal. You’d have your time until she graduated, and the Lord knows you’ve wasted enough of it on a low-income job and frolicking. It’s time to start thinking about your real future. Acacia decided she was going to be a doctor, and that leaves . . .”

  Her mother paused, waiting for Asaria to finish, so she swallowed the bile rising in her throat and whispered, “That leaves the Layre Stationary and Co. to me.”

  “Correct. Oh, don’t sound so glum. Financial stability isn’t the end of the world—” Her mother continued droning on, but Asaria kept her mind focused on taking even breaths. All her life, she’d heard this story. Her older sister was the smart one while she was the athletic. Her sister wanted to be a doctor. Her sister could make that decision for herself. Asaria ended up with the leftovers. And perhaps that’s all a mistake like her deserved.

  “Asaria? Are you listening?”

  Asaria held back the choked tears fighting to make an appearance. “Yes.”

  “So your father and I will see you in two weeks at the graduation?”

  “Yes.” Her father hadn’t come to her graduation.

  Her mother’s voice changed, as though she were smiling. “Good. I love you, honey. Have a good night.”

  “I lo—” The line went dead.

  Asaria closed her eyes, biting back her tears, and left the phone pressed against her ear. When she finally lowered it, the dim glow of the screen burned her eyes. When had it gotten so dark?

  The cell dinged, and she sucked in a breath, her heart thundering at the sound alone. When she had settled enough, she tapped the notification, pulling up the group chat she had with her two friends.

  Ashlyn: Sup nerds. Girls get in free before 10. Who’s coming?

  Emilia: Who’s driving?

  Despite everything, maybe a distraction was what she needed right now. Asaria touched her shell necklace, took a deep breath, and remembered her secret. She blurted things when she got drunk. But she didn’t need the fog. Just a little company to keep her mind from straying to darker thoughts. Maybe they could listen this time and help.

  Me: I’ll drive. Pick you both up in twenty.

  ↜❀↝

  “I don’t really see the problem, sweetie.” Ashlyn rolled her eyes and swirled her drink as though the margarita were a fine wine. “You’ll be the boss. If you want to take your vacation hours to surf, that’s your choice. You’ll have a cushy office job and everything you could ever want. Far better than the dump where we work now.”

  “You’ll probably find a nice man at one of those fancy events your family’s always having too.” Emilia bumped Asaria’s shoulder, brown eyes glimmering. “You aren’t getting any younger after all.”

  “I can’t run a business. The only time I feel comfortable is when I’m on the waves. I can’t tell people what to do. I—”

  “You’re selling yourself short, Asa,” Ashlyn mumbled. “You’ll grow into the position, and you’ll be living the dream. You’ll have power and money. With those, your possibilities are endless.”

  Asaria’s gaze dropped to her water glass as her chest pinched. Her options would be limited. Until her parents passed on, she’d be under their thumbs no matter who sat in the big chair, and by the time things were truly hers and she could explore the world power and money made available, she’d likely be married with kids like her mother wanted. Her prime would have passed.

  Ashlyn set a hand against Asaria’s shoulder and waited until they met gazes. “You’ll be fine, okay?”

  “I don’t feel fine.”

  Gentleness filtered away as Ashlyn’s lips pursed. When she spoke again, her tone came out sharp. “You always work yourself up over nothing, Asa, and you’re going to wear yourself out like that. Think of the positives and make your plan with what you have. It’s stupid to whine over what can’t be changed, so figure out what can.”

  Asaria sank into the noise of the club. She couldn’t argue with them; somewhere she knew they were right, but they made it sound so easy. And it wasn’t for her. Maybe it should be, but something always ate away at her, telling her she wasn’t good enough, telling her she couldn’t do so many things.

  She inhaled deeply and sat up straighter. “I’m sorry.”

  Emilia tutted, her round, honey-toned cheeks rising into a goofy grin. “We’ve told you about saying sorry before.”

  Asaria wet her lips and corrected herself, shrinking as she did. “Thank you for listening.”

  “God, that sounds so elite.” Ashlyn took a sip of her drink and laughed. “Okay, now that that’s taken care of, we’re here to have fun, get away from life’s troubles while summer lasts! Who wants to pretend they know how to dance?”

  Emilia’s hand shot up as she giggled, but Asaria only stirred her water. “I’ll finish this first and maybe order a snack.”

  “Suit yourself.” Ashlyn winked, holding a hand out for Emilia, who took it as though she were a sober queen. “We’ll leave a spot for you when you’re ready.”

  Asaria watched them carve a line through dozens of other bodies like two forces of nature. Bold, beautiful, brave. All things she aspired to be, and all things that felt so far away. She shook her head. For now. “Think positive,” she whispered just below the music. Her hand lifted to touch her necklace, and she closed her eyes, imagining magical worlds and hidden secrets.

  Ashlyn’s words resounded in her head. Get away from life’s troubles. Her eyes opened, and she looked down at the pink shell. Maybe she could get far away. At least until the graduation. Yuval was a stranger, but there was something about him, like he was just another piece of the ocean she loved. Or like there was a tide pulling her toward him.

  If he agreed to take her to Ocea, maybe she could get far enough away to breathe and piece together a plan. Maybe she could find herself and finally change into the kind of person she wanted to be.

  4

  Swallow

  Emptiness suffocated Asaria. It appeared suddenly, and she gasped awake, feeling like she couldn’t inhale. The black room filled her vision, closing in, and thunder shook the world outside.

  She swore after she’d returned from the cl
ub and had gone to bed she was okay, but now all her peace had fled. Something had slithered into her mind while she’d slept. Something had curled up in the corners to eat her away. Something wet. Something dark.

  Her hand fumbled toward the nightstand in her room, and she scooped the shell necklace up to press against her chest. Why did its presence calm her? Was magic therapeutic?

  Forcing herself to breathe in until her chest hurt, she counted down from ten and tried to find the reason behind the persistent onslaught of negative thoughts.

  Living in her sister’s shadow. Feeling belittled in every way. Invalid opinions.

  Pressure. Expectations. Inadequacies.

  No matter what she did, she always felt wrong. It burned in the back of her mind like a hot coal, and sometimes, late at night, when no one was watching and the darkness was almost too much, she fed the fire.

  She was a Layre, the second daughter of two prominent business owners. Her purpose was to be strong, graceful, change the world, but she wasn’t like her parents or her sister who saw the city calling them to opportunity. Asaria looked out at the ocean, saw the rising tide, watched the ebbing waves, and wanted to let her spirit ride on the current.

  Before she could think, she threw the covers off and left the room. She padded to the back door and yanked it open. Wind whipped the salty air through her hair, but no rain fell as she looked down at the crashing waves and building storm. Gripping her necklace, she leaned back against the door and watched, hoping the sight of chaos would rinse her mind and free her.

  You’re stupid to whine.

  Lord knows you’ve wasted enough time frolicking.

  Asaria fought to swallow the lump in her throat while she battled the voices in her head. They rumbled like the thunder in the distance, and they always repeated the same lies.

  A bother.

  An inconvenience.

  Not Acacia.

  Not good enough.

  Never enough at all.

  Lies. She knew they were lies. But each broken thought still hurt because there was always a lingering question: what if they were true?

  She blinked, letting tears trickle down her cheeks in the silence. She had to get through the mire. Things like this, thoughts and feelings, they all passed in time. In the morning she’d be thinking straight again, and she’d be strong enough to rationalize all the pain away.

  “Come to the water.” A voice dripped into her mind, and her eyes flashed open, head turning to see if anyone were near. No one. “The water will wash it all away,” the voice added.

  “Who’s there?” she choked, scrubbing her cheeks, because if her mother had taught her anything—never let anyone see you cry.

  “A friend.”

  Something tugged on her chest, as if all her dark thoughts had created a rope between her and the ocean. It pulled her forward, and she leaned back, dread overcoming anxiety. Panic clutched her in a different way once she lost control of her legs.

  The water drew closer with every stiff step, and blood rushed from her cheeks as her whole body went cold. Cool liquid ran over her toes.

  After a blink, the storm surrounded her. She stood on the water in the middle of the tempest, her heart echoing the raging booms of thunder. Lightning sparked through the swirling masses of dark clouds, and she gasped in a breath. Eyes wide, her gaze soaked in the scene around her as her breaths shortened. Her fingers worked quickly to clasp the necklace around her neck, because she couldn’t help feeling it would be the only thing that could save her now.

  The water bubbled in front of her at her feet, and a man with tentacles instead of legs rose from the ebony pool. Water skimmed off his grey skin as his lower half writhed, flicking this way and that along the surface of the churning waves. When Wyre had risen fully to her height, his lips parted in a pointed, white smile that froze her blood. “Hello, Asaria.” His voice slipped from his lips smoothly, like an ink blot that steadily grew. “What’s troubled you this evening?”

  Fear chained her in place, turning her mouth dry.

  “Now, no need to answer. I already know.” He crept along the water’s surface, circling her, and she let her gaze follow him though she didn’t dare move her feet. “You feel like you don’t belong. And you’re right, you know. You never belonged on the land.”

  “How can you know something like that?” She spat the words but feared they left her mouth as little more than a squeak. She’d only touched the idea of magic this morning, and now she was in the center of it before her mind could catch up.

  Wyre chuckled. “I could tell from the moment I saw you.” He leaned close in front of her, a slimy appendage tilting her chin up. His eyes flicked down to her shell necklace, and she clapped a hand over it. His lips stretched with humor at the motion. “I’m not going to hurt you. I want to help you.”

  “It didn’t feel that way when you nearly drowned me this afternoon.”

  Lightning glinted across his teeth, and she bit her tongue. She had to remember to exhale. Inhale and exhale. Count down from ten.

  How could she rationalize in this situation any more than she could while drowning before?

  “Do you want to leave your problems behind or not? You have to know you could never escape to Ocea with your prince charming unless you could breathe there.”

  “What?” A shiver wracked her, and her shoulders bunched.

  “If it wasn’t obvious, Ocea is underwater, and you’ve a surprising lack of gills.” His eyes flicked between hers, then he slipped back. Raising an arm, he flourished his fingers, and a single crystal vial appeared in his hand, blue liquid glowing within. “Just one swallow, Asaria.”

  “I must look like an idiot to everyone if you think I’d drink that. What do you want from me if that really is my answer?”

  “Just the pleasure of helping someone like me, someone who never quite belonged.”

  A wry laugh spilled from her lips, and that’s when she knew she was losing it. Fish people. Magic. Insanity. “Sure.”

  His hand clamped around the bottle as his expression darkened. Lightning sparked behind him as though confirming the change of mood. “You have two options, dear girl. Take the bottle and the chance at all of your dreams coming true, or drop into the water and hope you survive the storm.”

  She glanced down, then swallowed. “You have a shitty bedside manner for someone claiming to help me for sentimental reasons.”

  The foundation beneath her feet vanished. She jolted, water reaching her thighs, and a scream poured from her mouth a second before her body stopped, just above the waves that would take her.

  Wyre leaned close. “You’re rather bold once you’ve given up hope. I can’t decide how I feel about it.” He curled her fingers around the vial. “I’ll drop you in ten seconds. You have a choice and a chance to be the person you want to be. The person no one believes you can be.”

  Asaria stared into Wyre’s cold, dark gaze and felt like she was looking directly into the blackest parts of her mind. When his hand fell away from hers, she held the bottle. With another strike of lightning, the cephalopod man was gone.

  This wasn’t a choice. This was an ultimatum.

  Ten.

  She glanced at the vial, anxiety and fear strangling her like they always did.

  Seven.

  She had ten seconds; she had to take a deep breath, let it out, count down.

  Four.

  Lifting the glass to her lips, she threw the liquid back.

  Three, two.

  And swallowed.

  One.

  5

  Free

  Pain woke Asaria with a start, and she gasped in the pitch darkness. Pressure constricted around her head; thick air filled her lungs, leaving her mouth in an exhale as bubbles. Panic made her scream, but the sound barely traveled out into the water.

  Some part of her brushed the sand below, and she grappled for footing, but her legs wouldn’t separate, and she couldn’t push herself up. Deep breaths of water filled
her lungs, the heaviness choking her from the inside without doing so much damage.

  Air. She needed real air. And light. Whatever light she could find so she could figure out where she was.

  Brushing sand again, she positioned her body away from it and plowed through the water to reach the surface. Her head crashed into the night, dozens of stars surrounding her as the moon gleamed upon the stretch of still ripples. She turned and twisted, searching the edge of the black water, where it all met the dark sky, but nothing rose on the horizon or lightened like distant land.

  She shook, hands trembling, and she closed her eyes before she began reaching down her body. Her blue camisole remained intact from what she could tell, but her pajama shorts were gone. Her legs were gone.

  Asaria tilted her face up and continued to breathe in steady motions as her fingers ran over fins and scales instead of flesh. Leaning back, she flicked her tail up, and the translucent membrane of her fins glinted in the moonlight when they peeked out of the water.

  Her hands clapped against her mouth to hold in another scream. She scrubbed her face and looked at her tail again. Her chest tightened, and her stomach twisted. This couldn’t be happening.

  It couldn’t be.

  If she had a tail, how could she surf?

  Heart pounding, her fingers dropped to her neck. Closing her eyes, she held the shell and wet her lips. She tapped it twice, her throat stinging when she spoke. “Yuval,” she whispered, “please help me.”

  Moments transformed into minutes, questions bombarding her mind and crushing her under their weight. What if he hadn’t heard her? Did she do it right? What if Wyre had done something to it?