“They’ll come to you if they want to speak,” I tell her, hoping she’ll listen. We step deeper into the water. Fog creeping in, curling across the surface, making it harder to see.
The water around us begins to glow, a soft blue pulsing from beneath the surface. Then they appear, sirens, silent as ghosts, moving through the black like shadows. One swims forward. I recognize her as the same one from the night Smith betrayed us.
“Mira and the Pirate Lord,” she says, her voice cold and lifeless. “You are not safe here.” She came to warn us. “This island is infected. Possessed. Mira cannot stay.” She moves closer, her webbed hand reaching for Mira. “Take her and go, boy.”
“His name is Kai,” Mira says firmly. The siren’s expression shifts, her head tilts, eyes narrowing.
“My apologies. Kai.” She apologized? Mira has that kind of power now? To make even the most stubborn of species bend at her word?
“What happened to the island?” Mira asks.
“That is not for you to know,” the siren replies, dark eyes glinting under the moonlight. “It is not safe. You must go. Now.” Mira steps forward. The siren blocks her path, voice sharper now. “Go no farther. The waters aren’t safe either…”
“It's dark magic,” I tell the siren.
She grins, slow and sharp. “Hmm. Smart boy. Smart Kai. But you are not strong enough to be near it, not yet. You must have found out who you’ve come from.”
I say nothing. She swims closer, dipping beneath the surface, then rises again, eyes narrowing, amused. “Do you still wish to complete the task I gave you?”
I open my mouth, but Mira steps in. “He won’t be making any promises.”
The siren snaps her gaze to Mira, the water stilling around her. “Do you know what will happen once we are rid of her?” shehisses. “Do you understand what will be unlocked for him? He will possess all of her power and more. He is the heir to magic. The holder of it. You hold him back, girl, and it is you who will suffer. He could die.Youcould die.” Heir of magic? The only thing I’d ever inherited was my ship and crew. Not this.
“I’ll get you the witch,” I say, the words like stone in my mouth. I feel Mira’s fury before I see it. She turns, livid, trudging through the black water, walking away without a word. “Mira,” I call after her.
The siren speaks. “It’s what’s best. If you want to reach the fountain, this is what she commanded. Bring us the witch, and she will take you to it.” Mira stops and turns around.
“She?” Mira’s voice cracks like a whip.
“Your mother,” the siren replies with a gleam of cruel delight. “She’s alive. And she will take you to the fountain. Personally.”
The siren turns with a single motion and vanishes into the depths.
Chapter thirty-two
Mira
Every Breath
The siren’s words pulse through me like thunder. Disbelief drowns out everything else, and Kai grabs my hand as we make our way back to the ship.
“She’s alive,” I whisper, as if saying it aloud might shatter the illusion. I had a feeling after reading the journals, but hearing it, knowing it as a fact, feels like my heart shattering all over again. I don’t remember the walk back. I black out everything aroundme, my thoughts hijacked by memories of her. Her lullabies and her warmth. The way she used to brush the salt from my hair. For a moment, I feel like a little girl again, standing on the deck ofThe Siren, safe under her shadow.
But the joy is short-lived. Uncertainty creeps in like a rising tide. What if she’s not the same woman I remember? What if the years or her grief have changed her? What if she never knew what became of my father? Or worse, what if he didn’t die that night?
We leave the island and set course for Alek. It’s about a day away now. “Are you okay?” Kai asks as he sits beside me on our bed. I’m wearing nothing but his long-sleeved green shirt, which drapes over me like a dress.
“Shocked,” is all I manage to say.
“We’ll find her,” he says gently, reassuring me.
“If she’s been alive all this time, why hasn’t she come for me?” My voice cracks a little.
He shakes his head. “I could ask the same question,” he replies, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “You're not alone,” he says with the gentlest tone, and for some reason, as twisted as it is, it’s the most comforting thing he could have said to me.
I smile, leaning into the comfort of him. My back rests against the headboard, and he shifts, laying his head across my lap. I run my fingers through his curls. He smells of sea salt and tobacco, like home. His hand strokes my thigh slowly, grounding me.
“She might not remember me,” I whisper. “Or maybe she’s been watching. Every time there was a siren attack, they never came near me. Never touched me.” I pause. “Not even once.”
