Daughter of the Siren Queen

by Tricia Levenseller

  “Your body has been through an ordeal. You’re exhausted and you should drink something.” Mandsy isn’t intimidated by any of her patients. Ever. She’d treat a snarling bear if it was injured. She tries to bring the cup back to Riden’s lips.

  “What I want is to be left alone so I can sleep. Surely sleep is part of your treatment?”

  “Yes, but you could be concussed if you hit your head on something underwater. Someone should watch over you.”

  The ship rocks. Mandsy backs up to catch her balance, but some of the water still tips out of the cup she’s holding, and Riden braces himself with his arms from where he lies on the floor. When the ship straightens again, I step all the way into my bedroom.

  “Mandsy,” I say, “go below and check on Roslyn. Make sure she’s all right.”

  Mandsy treads past me as Riden looks at me in alarm.

  “Did she fall into the water, too? Is she—”

  “She’s fine, thanks to you,” I assure him. “I just wanted Mandsy out of here so you would stop being rude.”

  His worry morphs into a glare. “I said I didn’t want any company.”

  “This is my room, and I just saved your life. You could show a little gratitude toward all the people who are trying to help you.”

  He won’t look at me now. He finds his feet far more worthy of his fury.

  Riden’s managed to change into some dry breeches. (I’ve already dried myself off with my abilities.) A towel hangs around his neck, keeping his hair from dripping onto his bare chest. A dry shirt lies next to him, but he probably doesn’t have the energy to pull it on.

  “Do you want some help with that?” I ask, pointing to the shirt.

  “If you won’t leave, then I will.” He tries to stand; at least I think that’s what he’s doing. His legs are twitching.

  I rush forward and push against the idiot’s shoulders. “What are you doing?”

  He bats at my arms with flimsy pressure and tries to stand again.

  “Keep your arse on my floor,” I say.

  “Why don’t you make me?” he snaps. “You’ve already broken your promise today. What’s once more?”

  My mouth drops open. “Is that what this is about?”

  He still won’t look at me.

  “Would you really have preferred that I let you drown?”

  “I gave you my conditions for joining your crew. Under no circumstances were you to use your abilities on me.”

  “You were going to die!”

  He snaps his neck in my direction, his eyes finding mine instantly. “Then you should have let me. I practically killed myself trying to obey you. I can barely lift my arms, and forget about my legs. I feel as though I’ve been swimming for years nonstop. Not because I was fighting for my life, but because I was trying to heed the order of a siren.”

  “You’re being a prick. I did nothing wrong.”

  He mumbles something under his breath. I almost don’t call him out on it, but if he’s going to insult me, he better have the balls to do it to my face.

  “What was that?” I ask.

  “You were just like him.”

  My mind blanks. Him? “Who?”

  “Jeskor,” he breathes so faintly I almost miss it. His eyes take on a faraway look, reflecting on some former time. Some demon of his past, I realize.

  I know all too well what it is like being raised by a pirate. But I don’t know fully what life was like for Riden growing up. What did his father do to him?

  “What happened?” I ask.

  His eyes narrow on me again. “I want to be alone.”

  “Fine,” I snap. I throw the large feather blanket from my bed on top of his head. Maybe he’s too weak to adjust it and he’ll suffocate, but that’s probably too much to hope for.

  I leave before I can fantasize more about strangling him.

  How dare he scare me to death and then try to guilt me for it! I should dump his arse back into the sea.

  “Kearan, go below and tell Mandsy she should stay with Riden if Roslyn checks out all right. Then get some rest. I’ll take the helm for a while.”

  He opens his mouth.

  “If you’re about to argue with me, I suggest you don’t.”

  Something about my tone makes him go through the hatch without another moment’s hesitation.

  * * *

  Two hours pass. The hazy light of dawn finally peeks over the horizon, casting a little light for us to see by. Kearan is taking another turn at the helm while I rest my arms from the battle with the sea. The ship constantly has to be turned into the waves to keep it from capsizing. It’s as if the storm is a manifestation of my father’s wrath.

  A brutal gust of wind strikes the ship, and a crack slices the air. I assume it’s more thunder until I feel the ship start to tip. I can do nothing but watch as the mainmast snaps just below the second sail. It falls against the side of the ship, slicing through the railing and putting a hole through the deck. It’s held together by mere fragments of wood and a few lines of rope.

  I run for the trapdoor, open it, and scream, “Niridia, get the crew up here! Now! Before the tension drags us under!”

  There’s a blur of movement as the crew spills onto the deck, carrying knives and axes. They slice the ropes and hack at the wood weighing us down. Radita directs them so the task can be done in the most efficient way possible.

  The broken mast falls into the sea, and the ship sways far to the opposite side. We swing back and forth until the ship rights itself.

  Just as slowly as the storm came upon us, now it recedes. The sea rests and the clouds retreat. The sun climbs higher toward its perch in the sky.

  Radita lets the crew breathe for a moment before instructing them in cleaning the wreckage. Clumps of sea plants are tangled in the railing. Loose ropes lie everywhere. Wood fragments litter the deck. Radita tells them which pieces of the ship to save and which to toss over the side. Some of the girls start rebuilding the parts of the railing and deck that were lost.

  The mizzenmast and foremast still stand, but the rigging hangs limply to the deck, blowing about in calmer winds. The mainmast floats in the water a ways off, and a few girls take the rowboats to try and salvage the sails and crow’s nest.

  Only then does our new predicament fully hit me.

  A sequence of expletives leaves my mouth as I take in the carnage. I don’t even feel guilty when Roslyn turns to Niridia to ask what one of the words means.

  The ship barely crawls along without the mainmast. We can’t unfurl the sail on the foremast yet because the rigging needs fixing. The lateen on the mizzen doesn’t do much to push the ship forward. The pirate king will have no trouble catching up to us now.

  I can’t seem to stop looking at the missing mast. My father betrayed me. My mother betrayed me. Now my own ship has betrayed me.

  A feeling of helplessness pokes around the edges of my mind, wanting in, wanting to flood everything else.

  Three days.

  My father is possibly only three days away.

  And our ship is now drastically slower than his.

  He’ll be upon us in no time.

  The thought nearly leaves me breathless with fear. What more could I have done? We had a plan. We were doing fine—but I cannot control the weather. This failing isn’t my fault.

  Then why do I feel responsible? Did I do something wrong? I discovered my father was not the man I thought him to be. I thought being away from him would be the safest for my crew and me. But by ordering everyone to leave the fleet, I put us in more danger than we’ve ever been in before.

  But you gave everyone a choice, a small, rational voice argues in my head. You gave them the option to leave. They all chose to stay.

  Still. My. Fault.

  A body bumps into me, and I finally look up.

  “Sorry, Captain,” mumbles Lotiya as she carries a load of planks for repairing the deck.

  I take a good look around me, see the men hauling heavier pieces of d
ebris over the ship, see the riggers working on fixing the two sails left standing, watch Roslyn sweep the deck with a broom—the faces of my crew.

  They’re still alive. The pirate king is not upon us yet.

  I’d let despair win too soon. All hope is not lost.

  We need a plan.

  “Kearan, Niridia! Meet me in my quarters now.”

  Kearan has a fractured piece of wood thrown over his shoulder. He shrugs it into the sea before following after me, Niridia on his heels.

  We go to my desk, bypassing Mandsy and Riden on the floor. I don’t spare them a glance.

  We’re here for the map.

  “We need a new mast,” I say. We can fashion one ourselves, but we need a tall tree for that. Those aren’t to be found in the open ocean, but if we’re anywhere near land …

  “Yes, here!” I point to the island. The one where my parents met. It’s not far off.

  “We can’t just stop,” Niridia says. “We’ve no idea what’s out there.”

  “Would you rather sail around aimlessly until we run out of food?” Kearan asks her. “Or worse. Until the king reaches us?”

  “We could replace the mainmast with the mizzen, attach the mainsail to it, and—”

  “It’s a good idea, Niridia,” I interrupt, “but we’ll never outrun my father that way. It would speed us up some, but not enough. We’ve no choice but to stop.”

  It’s in Niridia’s nature to be cautious. She always suggests the safest and most practical course of action, but she never fails to follow orders when I say otherwise. She’s the reasonableness to my recklessness. And I always need to consider reasonable options, even if I don’t always end up taking them.

  “Get us here, Kearan,” I say. “And let’s pray to the stars we can find a suitable trunk ashore.”

  “Aye, Captain.” He leaves us, and I say a silent prayer of thanks that the rudder at least isn’t damaged. Then we’d really be in trouble.

  * * *

  I crawl into my room long after nightfall. After two days without sleep, I’m practically sagging from exhaustion.

  “Get out,” Riden demands.

  Oh, no he doesn’t. I saved him. I worked out saving the ship and the rest of the crew. I’ve worked too hard and too long. I will sleep in my own bed tonight.

  I offer him a vulgar gesture in response before stepping over him to reach my bed. “You didn’t see it,” I say, realizing it’s pitch black, “but I just suggested you go—”

  “I think I can guess,” he says. I hear a shuffling noise, and I realize he’s trying to push himself off the floor to leave, just like he did before.

  “You’re not leaving this room, Riden. Try it, and I’ll have Mandsy tie you down.”

  He growls at me. It’s the last thing I hear before falling asleep.

  Chapter 11

  Clever, Alosa. Sending the land king after the keep. Oh, yes, I’ve heard word. My men are fine. The land king fled with his tail tucked between his legs. We’ll have to relocate now, thanks to you.

  Your list of crimes is growing. I don’t know if there’s enough skin on your bones for the lashing that’s coming your way.

  The last yano bird returned rather quickly. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say we were catching up.

  MY FATHER’S LATEST NOTE sends a shiver down my back.

  Land could not have come any sooner.

  I reach for my telescope and peer toward the line of green on the horizon. Tall trees stand sentinel over the island. They slope with the rolling hills. Gray clouds hang over the island, and an instant later, the ship passes into a light drizzle.

  It is not unlike Lemisa, the closest island to the keep, save the weather is a bit warmer. At last, a bit of luck. Cone-bearing trees are the best to make masts out of, and this island is covered with them. Those closest to the shore are relatively small, but if we traverse inland, where there’s sure to be a freshwater source, we’ll find taller trees.

  “Ladies and gents, we’re almost there!” I call out to the crew. Hearty shouts go up in response.

  “Begging your pardon, Captain,” Enwen says, inching closer to me, “but are we sure going ashore is the best idea? The island could be haunted.”

  “Sirens roam these waters, Enwen, and you’re worried about ghosts?” I ask.

  “Ghosts, ghouls, banshees, wraiths—”

  “Don’t exist,” Kearan cuts in from where he steers at the helm.

  “Do so.”

  “Have you ever seen one?”

  “No, but there are stories.”

  “Stories parents tell their children to make them behave,” Kearan says. “Nothing more. They’re not real.”

  “You said sirens weren’t real once. And now look at our captain!” Enwen looks to me. “Meaning no offense, Captain. You’re all right.”

  “Thanks, Enwen.”

  “You happened to be right one time,” Kearan says. “That does not make the rest of your superstitions real.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because—” Kearan cuts himself off. “How am I having this conversation? Enwen, go blather to someone who wants to listen.”

  “You like listening to me.”

  “I really don’t.”

  “Stop it,” I say to the two of them. “We’re going ashore. End of discussion. Niridia! Get everyone on the deck.”

  Though I don’t have eyes on her, she answers from below. “Aye, Captain.”

  In a matter of seconds, everyone is amassed together, the crew eager for change after two days of our slow pace.

  Wallov has Roslyn on his shoulders so she can see me from the deck. Lotiya and Deshel have Riden cornered at the edge of the ship, where he’s sitting atop a barrel.

  He slept for a full day after his accident. Once he could stand on his own, he left my room, left my sight. He won’t even look at me now as I give out orders.

  “We’ve no clue what we’re going to find on this island,” I say, “so everyone needs to be on their guard. What we do know, though, is in the past, my father’s men met a group of sirens in the water off this island. Very soon I will order the men to have their ears covered until we’re far enough inland that it shouldn’t be a problem. Is that understood?”

  I pointedly look at each man on the ship. They in turn nod their heads. Except for Enwen, who seems to have covered his ears before I reached the end of my sentence.

  “Though sirens are the only creatures we know exist for sure, we need to understand that there could be many other sorts of magical beings out there. Don’t be afraid, only cautious. We’re in uncharted waters, but remember, my ancestors reached the siren island just fine, and they couldn’t have had half of our talents.”

  The girls laugh lightly.

  “We’re here to find us a new mast. I want to be on and off the island as quickly as possible. We stick together. I’ll pair the men up with women while their ears need covering. Someone will always be on watch. Radita will take the lead.” She’ll know the perfect tree for our new mast. “As soon as we have this ship sailing again at full speed, it’s on to the Isla de Canta and treasure beyond our wildest dreams!”

  “Rah!”

  And then I will take everything from my father. It is the greatest punishment I can think of for him, but it doesn’t nearly equate to keeping a girl from her mother.

  “Allemos,” I shout. “Get over here.”

  I worry he’ll defy me in front of the whole crew and I’ll have to punish him again, but to my relief, he obeys. He can be furious with me all he wishes, but I am still his captain.

  I pull him off to the side so we can have a private conversation.

  “You can stay on the ship to guard it while we’re gone or you can come help us find a new mast. Those are your choices at this point. Regret it though you might, you’re stuck being a member of this crew. It’s impossible for you to leave, and I won’t have you being an idle passenger the rest of the way.”

  His face is unreadabl
e. “You’re giving me a choice?”

  I don’t break eye contact. “I think you’re an idiot. You’re alive because of me, yet you’re determined to hate me for it.”

  His jaw twitches. I know he means to argue, but I press on. “Nevertheless, I did break my promise to you. That is why you have a choice.”

  He’s quiet for a moment. “I don’t hate you.”

  “All evidence to the contrary.”

  He doesn’t have anything to say to that. I think he won’t respond at all. Then—

  “I’ll go,” he says. “I’m a member of this crew. My strengths are best put to use obtaining a new mast. I’ll see you ashore, Captain.”

  Captain.

  It wasn’t enough that his tone was indifferent, accepting of his fate to be stuck on my ship. Now he has to distance himself from me further by refusing to call me by name, as he usually does.

  There is so much more I want to say to him. So much I want to demand from him. An apology, for one. Whether his captain, friend, or something more—he should not have spoken to me the way he did the other night. I won’t let that slide so easily.

  And then answers. What plagues his mind so much that he’d rather die than be saved by my abilities?

  Those conversations will have to wait until another time. For now, we have a tree to find.

  “You’re to pair with me on the island,” I say. I don’t give him a chance to respond before leaving to help drop anchor.

  He can be upset with me all he likes. I won’t apologize for saving him.

  But if I have to watch Lotiya or Deshel leading him through the island while he cannot hear, I won’t be able to focus on the task at hand.

  Damn him.

  Damn everything about him.

  * * *

  The waters are clear as we row toward the shore. The waves aid us, pushing us closer and closer to the island. The men have their ears blocked, even though all signs point to no siren life. We can’t take any chances. It’s not as though I can sense them. I lived my whole life not knowing my own mother was living on the same isle as I.

  If only I had known, I could have spared her years of enslavement.

  Would she still have run out on me then?