“Oh,” her father said, but now his voice was hushed, and he reached an arm to her. “Well, we’ll find her. I’m sure she’s not far.” He drew her close to him, and she folded her head against his. She could feel her father’s love for her, like warmth in the currents, like lights in the darkness.
“I’m worried … something happened to her,” she said.
“What makes you think that?”
“She told me she went in a human house.”
“Are you sure?” He stopped. “When have you girls been speaking to humans?”
“I haven’t. Just Dosia. You know how she likes to sit on the rocks by the point.”
“But … surely she has the sense to— You’re sure she went in the house?”
“She told me last night. I would have told you, if I thought—” If something happened to Dosia, Esmerine would never forgive herself for not trying harder to convince her to stay away from the humans.
He smoothed her hair one last time. “We should tell your mother.”
It was more difficult to tell her mother, because her mother overreacted to everything, and this was no exception. She gathered all the neighbors, even the ones she didn’t care for, questioned everyone about whether they had seen Dosia, and before long a search party was combing the village for her. Esmerine began to dread Dosia’s return almost as much as her disappearance—Dosia would be so mortified by all the commotion.
But Dosia did not come home that night. It was difficult to search the sea in the darkness, but some of the traders went to the point to inquire about her at that grand house. Esmerine had never spent a night without Dosia, and she swam little circles in their cave, unaware that she had slept until she woke to the serious voice of a trader in the entry room.
Chapter Four
Esmerine slunk from her room to find her mother clutching Tormy’s hand. Merry was likely still asleep, and her father must be out searching.
“They said they had no idea what we were talking about,” the trader was saying. “But it might not be the truth. It was just a lad I spoke to first—must’ve been sixteen, seventeen. He seemed a little dumbstruck. But it doesn’t mean he wasn’t lying. You know what a prize mermaids are to humans.”
“Did you look for her?” her mother said. “Of course you can’t simply take his word for it!”
“I can’t storm into a human gentleman’s house and search it up and down, madam,” said the trader, a strapping man with a long bluish tail and a calm demeanor.
“But how am I ever going to know if they have my daughter?” Her mother was shaking Tormy’s arm, apparently unaware she was even holding it.
“Sometimes … we lose sirens,” he said carefully.
“Dosia wouldn’t be that stupid!” Esmerine’s mother snapped. “She’s had it drummed into her head all her life to stay away from humans.” Tormy managed to wrest her arm back from their mother’s grasp as she started crying.
“I can send Lady Minnaray to speak with you, ma’am,” the trader said. He lowered his head and touched his tail to the floor in a gesture of respect, then departed.
Yesterday, Esmerine had been frightened for Dosia, but today felt more like a dream. Dosia had always been fascinated by humans. Everyone expected her to be named a siren from a young age. And everyone knew sirens might follow their fascination with humans too far. When Esmerine was eight, they had lost a siren—an unmarried woman from a wealthy family. She had been out alone, taunted a fisherman, and he managed to grab her. At least, that was the story they were told.
Had Dosia been unhappy? Or was it something they had done? But Dosia had always seemed cheerful. Her only complaint was a yearning to see the surface world. Was that really enough to provoke her into such a dire act? No, surely she would have told Esmerine …
Esmerine recalled the trapped feeling that had closed around her when she made her siren’s vow.
“If I’d known she was speaking with humans …!” Esmerine’s mother sobbed.
“It’s not your fault, Mother,” Esmerine said. “You know how they say sirens become enchanted with humans. It’s just an enchantment. It’s no one’s fault.”
“Dosia and Esmerine always wanted to go be humans,” Tormy said, her eyes flashing at Esmerine. “They were always putting on legs and showing off around the islands.”
“You think this is my fault?” Esmerine cried. “Dosia didn’t even tell me she was talking to humans!”
“Be silent, Tormaline!” Esmerine’s mother shouted. “You could display at least one iota of pity for poor Dosia. It’s one thing to walk about on an island as a child, and another to be kidnapped by a human man.”
Tormy slashed the water with her tail. “Pity her? She should have known better! I miss her, but she’s gone because she always liked humans better than anything else!” She fled the room.
Esmerine, too, returned to her sleep room and curled against the floor, clutching the winged statue to her chest. Her despair felt bottomless. There was no balm for Dosia’s disappearance. She didn’t even want to talk to her parents. She did feel guilty in some way—should she have tried harder to stop Dosia? If only Dosia hadn’t gone to the human house without Esmerine in the first place, this wouldn’t have happened. She still couldn’t believe Dosia had done all this without her.
Esmerine kept replaying again and again the vision of Dosia being taken by human men, the gruff hand tearing Dosia’s belt from her waist, the terror Dosia must have felt, knowing she’d been wrong about the humans and no one from home could help her.
Of course, everyone in the village knew Dosia was gone by day’s end. Friends called, bearing gifts of sympathy. When Lalia Tembel and her mother came by, Esmerine said she was sick and hid in her room. Every time Esmerine passed one of Dosia’s friends they would embrace her, and the tears would begin again. For a week, they had no theatricals, only songs of blessing for Dosia and mourning for themselves.
Esmerine continued her work as a siren, but Dosia’s departure had drained the joy she should have felt. Fear for her sister twisted to anger and back again as she sat on the rocks with the other sirens.
Sometimes Esmerine found a solitary rock and watched birds fly overhead. She glimpsed winged people gliding on the western sky, near the mountainous cliffs they called the Floating City. She remembered how Dosia used to yell at Lalia Tembel for her, defending Esmerine’s friendship with Alander. Now Dosia was experiencing things Esmerine couldn’t even fathom, and worse, she didn’t know if Dosia was all right.
For all that Esmerine and Dosia had dreamed of changing their legs to tails and exploring the human world, Esmerine was sickened at the thought of her sister living the rest of her life with legs, sleeping close to a human man, talking only to humans and never again to her own people.
They would never be traders. They would never go looking for Alander together. They would never even be sirens together.
The world couldn’t stop just because Dosia was gone. The other sirens urged Esmerine to go to a dance with them. Esmerine had always loved to sing and dance, and she had just begun to miss it, but it still felt wrong to enjoy herself. She lingered by the walls.
She noticed Jarra looking at her. He had always been nice to her, and he had bright black eyes and a quick smile. She lifted her face as he swam nearer.
“I was wondering … er … did Dosia say anything about me before she left?” he asked.
“Well … I know she liked your company.”
“I really thought we might have a future together.” He curled one hand into a loose fist. “I can’t believe everyone’s just sitting around when she’s been kidnapped. Someone should go after her.”
Esmerine agreed, but few merfolk could stand the pain in their transformed feet for long, and it was even more unlikely they would confront the humans, who would surely have hidden her belt well. Her sister was as good as a slave. Esmerine couldn’t think about it. She wished Jarra would just leave her alone if he only wanted to talk about
Dosia.
He noticed her crestfallen expression. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right …”
“I know how close you two were.”
“Yes … we were.” Esmerine ran her fingers through the braids she had so carefully woven that morning. Dosia used to have a sure and willing hand with braids, but now Esmerine managed alone. Her mother and Tormy both yanked too hard.
Jarra bowed and turned to go, but she caught his arm. “You—you don’t want to dance?” she asked, sounding more desperate than she intended.
“Oh. I didn’t know you wanted to.” He shrugged and pulled her into an awkward hold, but she imagined he was thinking of Dosia. Well, so was she, for that matter.
It was no better to be home. Her mother fretted all the time, wondering aloud how Dosia was doing. Tormy and Merry sang songs of how they might save her. The two younger girls even went to Olmera, the village witch, to ask if they might do something, and came back sulking and silent.
If Esmerine still knew Alander, he could have brought paper and helped her write Dosia a letter. Maybe he would have even flown around and looked for her. She asked the traders to look for him in the city.
“That winged boy? But I haven’t seen him around in years,” her father’s friend told her. “He’ll be all grown up.”
“But he’s—well—just see. He was tall for his age, and he always had a book. Brown hair a little lighter than mine, brown eyes too.”
“All right. I’ll ask. But those winged people all look the same.”
Esmerine was now the oldest sister left, and more invisible than ever.
As weeks passed, life began to tingle back, and she wondered what would happen if she were to look for Dosia. Most merchildren tried walking once or twice, giving up after the first few twinges, but Esmerine and Dosia had persisted, bounding weightless on the ocean floor, standing on the shore of the tiny islands that dotted the bay, clutching rocks and trees for balance. Esmerine didn’t think that the pain of walking could be worse than the pain of wondering where Dosia was.
Chapter Five
It was a daunting prospect, to imagine going after Dosia. Not only would her feet ache, not only would she be in an unfamiliar place, but even if she found her sister, the humans who had taken her belt surely wouldn’t make it easy to get back. As much as her mother fumed at the traders, Esmerine understood they really couldn’t help.
They needed someone who could move easily around the human world, someone clever who understood how things worked on the surface.
Someone like Alander.
She hadn’t seen him in four years, but she knew he would remember her well. Their friendship had lasted for almost that long, and they had been the most memorable years of her life. Alander had driven her crazy half the time, bringing her chemises to wear while they played so she would be properly clothed, and preceding far too many statements with “Of course,” making her feel stupid for asking questions. But he never failed to bring her a book, a different book every time unless she asked for an old favorite. He had taught her to read and write, scratching letters in the sand. She figured she knew as much about the human world as any trader, thanks to Alander’s books and the things he told her.
His visits hadn’t ended by choice. “I can’t come anymore,” he had said. “I have to go to the Academy.”
“I thought you already went to school.”
“That was just juvenile school. Father says I won’t have free time anymore. I don’t know what I can say. He still doesn’t know I come to see you, and he’d be mad if he found out. But after I complete my studies at the Academy, Father says I’ll work as a messenger for a year or two. I’ll travel all over the country, so maybe I can visit you then.”
Not long after that, he said a final good-bye and had never come again, although Esmerine kept waiting for his time as a messenger to begin. Esmerine knew from talking to the traders that many winged people worked as messengers, because they could travel faster than a horse or a ship. Esmerine supposed the work could have taken him to some far-flung direction. But it couldn’t do much harm to look for him, at least.
She didn’t know how to go about leaving, that was the trouble. Besides the fact that her parents would never give their approval, she had promised Merry she’d help her practice for her school theatricals that week. She was the eldest sister now, and it seemed there was always so much to be done. Her family needed her.
One day, she was at the market with her mother and sisters when one of the traders came back with a rumor about a mermaid wife in Sormesen.
“I don’t know if it’s your girl,” the man said. “But I don’t know of any other merwives in Sormesen. They said the girl was beautiful but looked unwell, and that her husband was taking her to live in mountain country.” He gave her mother a meaningful look. “They don’t like the mermaids they steal to be too close to the sea. They think it makes ’em homesick.”
Esmerine’s mother stopped moving. She seemed afflicted by a sort of paralysis whenever anyone talked of how miserable Dosia might be. Esmerine and Tormy each took her by a hand and led her away.
“Oh, gods, gods, gods. It’s Dosia, I just know it,” she was muttering, and her hands started to play with her shell necklace.
“Mother,” Esmerine said. “It’s all right.”
“If she had only resisted her impulses!” Mother cried. “She never would have been taken! And now she’s moving farther and farther away. I can’t bear having my girl so far away, and not even knowing—it’s the not knowing that’s going to send me to an early grave, I tell you!”
Merry’s eyes were huge and alarmed, as if their mother might really perish from her grief. Esmerine didn’t think she would, but something had to be done.
“We have to bring her back,” Esmerine said decisively. “Mother, please! Listen to me. I could go on land and find her. We know she was in Sormesen, and that she went to the mountains. If I could just get some information—”
“Esmerine, that is ridiculous. What if—what if it isn’t even her? It could be a siren from another village.”
“You know it’s her.”
“And you can’t walk. I know you and poor Dosia used to play at it, but real walking—it’s too much.”
“I know I could. I used to play with Alander for hours. The pain isn’t so bad, and I’m good at it. I can even climb trees. I could go to Sormesen and—at least I could bring word.”
“We haven’t the money for clothes and carriages and—”
“I’ll sell all my bangles and hair beads and shells and I’ll sell that statue Dosia gave me for my debut. I don’t care about any of it. I just want to see her again.”
Esmerine stayed calm. Her mother always responded to calm people, likely because she had such trouble keeping calm herself.
Her mother took Esmerine’s hands and squeezed her fingers. “You really love your sister.”
“Don’t we all?”
“But … we can’t just—go after her.”
“We can too. There is no reason why I can’t at least try. We’ll regret it the rest of our lives if we don’t try.”
“Yes, we will. You are right about that …” Mother looked over her shoulder, as if searching for something. She sighed again. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t lose you both … but if Dosia needs us … Your father is hopeless on legs. The traders are absolutely useless.”
“I know,” Esmerine said, trying not to sound impatient. “That’s why I have to go. I’ll be careful. My siren magic will keep me safe, should anyone try to hurt me. I’ll find Dosia.”
Chapter Six
Esmerine thought her father would never let her leave, but even he admitted it would be reasonably safe for her to go to Sormesen and ask after Dosia. Besides, none of them would have any peace unless an attempt was made.
“Esmerine, you are a sensible girl,” he said. “If anyone can find a way to bring Dosia home, I believe you would. Just be very careful and com
e back as quick as you can.”
Esmerine draped all her beads on her neck and loaded her arms with bangles, trying not to think how she would soon give them all away. Clutching the winged statue close, she set off for the House of Decency.
Because merfolk didn’t wear clothes, the humans required them to stop at a certain point on the outskirts of the city where they could rent the proper attire for venturing on land. Like every young mer, Esmerine had swum close enough to the House of Decency to gaze at it from afar, and also like every young mer, she was disappointed the place didn’t look more exciting. Beyond the sandy beach, a small wooden house with arched windows sat between two tall wooden walls. A weathered sign with a painted picture of a shirt and breeches hung from the left wall.
Esmerine pumped her tail forward until the water was no deeper than the length of her body, and then she forced the change. She had gotten much better at it over the years, but it was never pleasant. She doubled over as her very bones shifted. Her long fins drew themselves up into tight, dense little feet, then spread into toes that barely glanced the sandy ocean floor, sending a faint, almost ticklish pain across her newborn soles.
Even though the shore was lonely, Esmerine made a point not to show even a hint of pain as she placed one foot in front of the other and her head emerged from the water, her hair clinging to her back and breasts in tendrils. Dull pain shot from her feet to her knees with every step. She’d heard traders compare it to knives, but it never felt like that to her. The ache was familiar, almost welcome, for she associated it with better days, before Alander and Dosia had disappeared.
It felt, she thought, like heartbreak, only physical. Like she was tearing apart from the sea with each step. She almost expected it would vanish if she could only put enough distance between her body and the rush of waves.
Her body felt heavy in the air. Every bangle and bauble suddenly weighed on her neck and her arms. Only her golden siren’s belt still seemed to rest gently against her skin. She trudged across the shore, adjusting her balance as the sand shifted under her feet. By the time she reached the blue door of the House of Decency, she had to force herself not to grit her teeth.
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