Calista
The skiff cuts through the cold mist as it glides along the calm ocean. The only sound is the steady rhythm of Valther's paddles breaking the surface.
My heart is beating frantically. I keep my eyes locked on the dark mass bobbing in the light waves, terrified I’m going to lose sight of him. The sun has fully set and the moon is nothing but a sliver over our heads, barely lighting our way.
“Be careful, Captain!” Edrik shouts from the ship behind us.
I’m not worried about myself right now, only the figure in the water. I can’t take my eyes off him. I’m staring at him, completely enthralled. Like my heart will stop if I can’t get to him in time.
It’s the strangest feeling and it gets stronger with every inch we get closer to the man. It feels as if I’ve been heading toward this exact moment my whole life. Like I just found something I didn’t know I’d lost.
My whole body is on edge with impatience as we glide closer.
“Hurry,” I snap at Valther. “Put some strength into it, man.”
He picks up the pace, paddling harder. It doesn’t do anything to stem the need to get to him.
Something’s up…
This is not normal.
I’ve spent my whole life surrounded by men and not one of them has ever made me feel a pull like this. So why is this man, half-dead and unconscious, pulling these sudden, intense feelings out of me?
It may be a trap.
I’ve heard all of the old stories. Every sailor has. The hungry sirens of the deep who call to you in the dark—urging you forward with a feeling of irresistible need and promises of overwhelming beauty—and by the time you understand what’s happening, you're already in the water with something cold and ancient’s hands around your throat.
This could be that. A hungry siren playing games with my mind, tricking me with an irresistible allure and feelings of inevitability.
It may be something dangerous.
But I’m going anyway. That’s how strong the pull is. That’s how powerful it’s seizing my soul.
I can’t imagine turning around right now. I can’t even think about leaving him on the open sea. I’ll take my chances that I’ll be pulled into the dark waters and devoured by a siren. At least, I’ll have this warm, wonderful feeling to keep me content in my final seconds.
A gentle wave turns him just a little as we get closer and I suck in a breath when I see his still face. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. The sight of it stuns me to my core.
I’ve navigated violent storms that have made grown men weep and call for their mothers. I’ve jumped between giant livid men—knives in their hands, mead on their breaths—and stopped them from killing each other. I’ve faced down bloodthirsty Sea Wraiths in the dark with nothing but my emerald sword in my hand and an unbreakable fierceness in my heart.
I’ve done all that… And I’ve never felt so helpless as I do right now, looking at this man’s still face.
I want to save him. I want to put myself between him and whoever did this to him. I want to hold him until the cold leaves his body and his eyes slowly open. I want it so badly it frightens me.
“His shoulder is mangled,” Valther says. I’m so focused on the man in the water that I forgot he was behind me. I nearly jump out of my skin, I’m so startled.
“Yes,” I whisper, still keeping my eyes on him. “He’s been through something terrible.”
As we get closer, I see the extent of his gruesome injuries and tears wet my eyes. His arm is pinned to a branch, caught where the thick branch meets the trunk of the tree. He must have fallen from a tremendous height and the force yanked his shoulder into an unnatural angle. It appears to be wrenched out of the socket.
It’s not the only injury on him either. He’s bruised and bloodied, and I see several deep gashes and open wounds on his body.
“Reckon he fell off the waterfall?” Valther asks.
“Whatever happened to him,” I answer, “it messed him up good.”
Finally, the boat pulls up beside him.
“Careful, Captain,” Valther warns as I reach over. He grabs the back of my leather vest, holding onto me with his thick fist.
