Cory, Jack, and Albacore stood at the far end of the dock. Cory’s face lit up with relief. She ran to him without hesitation, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.
“You saved him,” she breathed. “I didn’t think you’d make it. When they pulled you under, I thought?—”
Jack stepped forward, drenched and shaken, but standing. “I don’t know what you did,” he said hoarsely. “But thank you. They were going to drown me.”
“It’s stopped… for now,” Jabir said. “But it won’t last.”
The words hadn’t finished leaving his mouth when a low hum of muttering broke out behind him. He turned.
A cluster of villagers had gathered—mostly women, their faces drawn and wary, their arms folded tight. Their gazes flicked between the water and Jabir like they weren’t sure which posed the greater threat.
“We should send the men away again,” one woman announced. “Before it starts up. We should’ve kept them away like before.”
“Take up arms,” another said. “End it. Destroy them. Drive them out once and for all.”
“No.” Jabir’s voice rang out like steel striking stone.
The crowd quieted, startled.
“They have as much right to this lake—no, more—than anyone here. They were here first. And they believe you have stolen something precious to them.”
The women scoffed. One crossed her arms. “They’re lying! You’re just a boy. You’re not even from this world. What do you know?”
Jabir straightened to his full height, his spine rigid with fury and purpose.
“I am Prince Jabir Reykill of Valdier. And whether I come from this world or another, I am a protector. That means I speak for those who cannot, and I stand where others back away.”
The hush that followed was palpable.
It was Albacore, the elderly Minotaur, who broke it.
“Technically,” he said with a clearing of his throat, “what the boy… Prince Jabir… said was true. The sirens were here first.”
Jabir turned to him, his eyes expectant.
Albacore shifted uncomfortably, rubbing at the back of his neck. “When we first settled here, the sirens weren’t hostile. The lake… it was full of life. Fish, eels, shellfish, edible kelp. Enough for everyone.”
He paused, glancing at the villagers. No one interrupted him, though several stiffened.
“We took too much,” Albacore continued, his voice quiet. “Over-harvested. Pushed too far in—especially during their mating season. We even tried to take over the island—which was their home. That’s when they fought back. Then came the flood.”
“The flood?” Jabir asked, frowning.
Albacore nodded. “Spring runoff from the mountain snows replenish the lake, making the soil fertile. But when the village grew, we built too close to the edge, and when the floodwaters rose one spring, part of the village was swept away. A lot of villagers died.”
He swallowed hard. “We blamed the sirens. Claimed they caused it. Used it as a reason to wage war against them.”
A heavy silence settled over the dock.
Jabir’s voice was low, but sharp. “Did they?”
“No,” Albacore admitted. “But we needed someone to blame. And the sirens… well, they were angry. Hurt. They tried to fight for their home, but we were more organized. We built the dam—cut off the river that fed the lake. Forced the sirens to stay on their side of the lake.”
Jabir’s dragon stirred uneasily inside him.
“You cut them off from something else, didn’t you?” he said. “Something vital.”
Albacore looked away. “Their males. They were foraging farther south when the dam was built. The female sirens can shift. Take on legs. Walk among us if they want to, but only for a short time. They grow very weak above the water. The males don’t have the same ability. They’re bound to the water. When we cut off the river, we didn’t just divide the lake—we divided them. Husbands from wives. Fathers from children. We told ourselves it was for the best. Eventually, the females would die off, and there wouldn’t be any more sirens in the lake. When the queen rose in rebellion, we threatened her mate—and the mates of the others. We demanded no more drownings, no more missing men. We made a deal—split the lake, keep to our side, they keep to theirs and we wouldn’t hurt their mates.”
