Page 109 of Storm and Sea

“I’m sorry,” Nyel said and darted in the direction of the beach.

“Ny, wait!”

Atreus followed him, and somewhere in the distance, he faintly caught Leo’s voice calling, “Gatto, what are you doing?”

But Leo was far behind now.

Nyel had to get to the beach.

He had to get home.

Nyel scarcely checked the beach to ensure he was alone before diving into the waves. A second later, Atreus was beside him, dark blue and purple scales matching his pace with a few easy strokes of his barbed tail.

“Ny, what’re you doing?” he asked but didn’t try to stop him.

“My aunt is having a baby. I promised her I’d be there.”

Corallina was a shorter swim than he remembered, and Atreus followed Nyel to the outskirts of the village. They reached the landing of the sand-hut home, gills fluttering for breath. Nephi beat them there; his red fins flared with irritation.

“Took you long enough. From the sounds of it, you’re right on time.”

Nyel heard it too. The labored cries of his aunt as she endured contractions. He pushed open the wooden door, nearly slamming his tail as it closed behind him.

“Sonia, Sonia, I’m here!” Nyel yelled.

A moment later, his father emerged from the back room, his eyes widening in alarm at the sight of his son. He looked older now, the years showing in the harsh lines around his mouth. How had so much changed in such a short time?

“Nyel?” he croaked.

“Yes, I’m here. Is Sonia okay? Is there anything I can do?”

“N-no. Your mother and a few other sirena have it handled. It shouldn’t be long now⁠—”

The water vibrated with the high-pitched wails of a babe. Tears brimmed in Nyel’s eyes. His tail drooped, and his shoulders fell. He’d made it.

“Can… can I?”

His father nodded, allowing Nyel to swim into the other room. Inside, Sonia lay under a shellweave blanket, her scales pale and her eyes bloodshot. But the smile on her face was more radiant than Nyel had ever seen.

“Sonia?”

She spotted him, and fresh tears broke free from her face. “Nyel. I knew you’d come.”

Nyel approached slowly, hardly noticing the two sirena and his mother busy with a small bundle on the other side of the room.

He took Sonia’s hand gently in his. “I promised I’d be here,” he said, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Sorry, I’m late.”

When his mother turned, she held a tiny bundle wrapped in a soft coral silk blanket. From one end, a short green tail peeked out, the tip still curled. Baby Mer were always born with their tails curled tightly from months spent in the womb—it would take several hours for the muscles to relax and straighten completely. The sight was a reminder of just how new this little life was.

His mother froze at the sight of him. “Nyel!? When did you⁠—?”

Nyel raised a hand, stopping her. “Later, Mom. I promise.”

Bianca looked like she wanted to get into it then and there, even with an infant in her arms. But she composed herself, gently handing the bundle to Sonia. His aunt took the swaddle, and more tears mixed with the water. Nyel peeked over her shoulder.

“She’s beautiful,” he said, admiring the plump face of his new cousin.

“She looks like him,” Sonia gasped, a sob catching in her throat. The babe in her arms didn’t share their jade hue but was the spitting image of her father, Nyel’s late uncle Santé. She resembled the other Sireni of the village, with moss-green tones around her eyes. The markings curved gracefully around her finless head, forming a pattern like a crown.