I reach out, afraid she’ll vanish if I blink. My hand trembles as I brush her cheek, her freckles scattered like tiny stars across her skin. Relief floods in so sharp it aches. The thought of losing her is unbearable, even in a nightmare.
I pull the covers higher around her shoulders, tucking her into the warmth, as if I can protect her from the ghosts still clawing at my mind. Then I stand, dress, and buckle my sword to my belt. My legs feel unsteady, like reality could give way and toss me back into the nightmare at any second.
Outside, the night air is cold, salt biting at my lips. I head for the helm, breathing in the crisp morning air, trying to believe. The dream still clings to me, heavy and wet, like blood that won’t wash away.
Some of it was real. I did kill my father last night.
“Taika, my love. Free me.” The echo from his words haunts me.
Dawn creeps over the horizon in a slow bleed of gray. I’m at the helm, guiding us toward Alek, the place Mira said we’d find her. They say Alek is where witches are born from bone and salt, where the fog is so thick it weeps. Where the sea bows out of fear. You can only enter if you’re expected. If not, the fog will find you, and it will suffocate you.
My father’s words churn in my gut. “The woman chose power over you. Over us,” he rasped, eyes already dimming.
I don’t want to believe it. Gods, I don’t. But the truth is pressing down on me like a rising tide. I thought I was the only one in my family alive who had magic. But now, the pieces are clicking into place.
“She is a witch, son. A powerful one.”Taika.The name crashes through me, sharp and final. The most powerful witch the world has ever known. The oldest. Untouched by time or death. Nothing has ever been able to take her, not war, not sickness, not even death itself. If death dared to knock, she’d answer the door and walk away untouched. She’d bargain with it and win.
She is my mother. Taika is mymother.
I grip the helm until my knuckles whiten, the wood biting into my palms. Between the sting of sleepless nights, the poison burning slowly beneath my skin, and the storm of thoughts clawing at my head, I feel like I’m going mad, coming apart one breath at a time.
The siren I spoke to that night knew. She knew that once I found out, I’d hesitate. That I wouldn’t have the heart to hand over my own mother. That blood might win.
But what she could never understand is that my blood isn’t what defines me. Taika may have given me life, but she also left me with a father who was barely human. A man who wore his legend like armor and raised me with fists and fear. She knewI had magic. She knew I could die from it if I used it wrong, or worse, I could kill someone else. She knew he wouldn’t help me. That the crew would be the ones to raise me.
Still, she left. For what? Power? What kind of mother chooses power over her son, her family?
Now I’m faced with the same choice, but it’s already been made. I would do anything for Mira.
I would drown the world if it meant getting Mira to that fountain. What I once thought I’d wish for has long since faded, swept away like dust in the wind. Everything has changed since her. With my life now being tied to hers, I have to make sure this sinister scar doesn’t take me down. I have to wish for my health, to save us both.
But the sea is still watching. Waiting.
Until the ocean and everything in it sees her for who she truly is, she’ll always be hunted. They either see her as a threat or a prize. Some might have already made deals with witches, or with sirens who’ve long since turned wicked, just to get close. They’ll come for her. And when they do, I’ll be ready.
I lean against the helm, watching the world wake. The crew shifts with the light, those who manned the night slipping into rest, while others take up the ropes and scrub the decks. The scent of breakfast curls through the wind, tangled with salt spray. It smells like home, bread, pork, potatoes, and yesterday’s fish frying in a blackened pan. Grease and smoke cling to the air, thick enough to taste. It’s the smell of survival.
Above us, the sky blooms with soft pinks and molten gold, the clouds glowing like they’ve been lit from within. Light dances on the ocean’s surface, painting it in pastel fire. And still, through it all, I can’t stop thinking of Mira.
I’m too deep in my thoughts to notice the shift at first. My mind is spinning, unraveling the knot of truths I wasn’t ready to face, until I hear it. Singing.
An alluring siren song thrums through my skull, pain and sweetness tangled in every note. Images of drowning in black water rise up, dark, merciless, and somehow disturbingly euphoric.
I look to check but there’s no black water, no dark magic creeping along the tide, just a clear morning, the sea glowing a brilliant crystal blue.
I can’t make out the words, but I feel them. Feel them down to the marrow of my bones. Like something or someone is trying to speak to me through my blood.
“Cap’n, I can take over from here. We’re headin’ west?” Jay’s voice cuts through the haze. I don’t answer right away. “Cap’n? You alright?”
“Fine,” I mutter, trying to ground myself. “Yeah. West. We’re looking for a city called Alek.” Jay gives a grunt and takes the wheel, pipe hanging from his mouth. He smells like he just ate pork and potatoes from the kitchen. Smoke coils upward, twisting into the morning light like it’s listening too.
I watch him for a beat, heart hammering. How is he not hearing this? “You don’t hear that?” I ask, voice lower now.
Jay raises his brow. “Hear what?”
The chill hits me instantly. “The singing,” I say. “You don’t hear the singing?”
His stare doesn’t waver. “Ain’t no music but the sea today.” I turn back toward the horizon, the voice still floating just at the edge of my mind, distant but insistent. A sharp pain shoots down my arm, the scar pulsing like it’s alive. There has to be more to it—more than flesh and bone. The siren isn’t just in my blood anymore. She’s in my head.
