Page 36 of Storm and Sea

“What is?” Giovanni asked, his mustache twitching.

“The ships. The water. It’s already making the kelp below the surface sick. Some people—I mean animals are getting sick too.” Noticing the other men’s quiet shock, he added, “I heard that from a friend. He likes to dive and see stuff underwater. But not me! I- I hate swimming.”

Atreus stiffened as the word ‘people’ slipped from Nyel’s lips. This was getting dangerous—time to wrap it up.

“Maledizione!” Giovanni cursed, slamming his fork to the table. “I will have to speak to Mayor Gianfranchi about this, see if we can widen the island boundary, push those ships farther away.” He sighed, and the sound was heavy. It was tired and worried. Atreus itched to take some of that burden.“I fear for our home ragazzi.”

When the stillness stretched to painful lengths, Atreus rose without a word to clear plates.

Giovanni emptied his glass of wine in two gulps. “I will retire early this evening. This home is yours; please make yourself comfortable.” He bid them goodnight, and Atreus hated how his massive shoulders slumped.

“Did I say something wrong?” Nyel asked the moment Giovanni’s bedroom door closed.

“No,” Atreus said. “He gets like this. We all do when we see what’s happening to our island.”

“Our?” Nyel asked.

Something in Atreus’s chest twisted. “Theirs, the humans.”

This island doesn’t belong to you.

You don’t belong at all.

You’re lucky to be here.

“I thought the ships were helping the humans. Turns out it’s hurting them just as much as the Sireni in Corallina,” Nyel mused.

“Something you’ll learn is that there are good humans. And there are bad.” He paused, considering his words. “And all of them are just scared.”

Atreus cleared the kitchen, doing everything he could besides washing the dishes. Giovanni might come back while his hands were in the sink. He filled a glass full of water and walked Nyel to his room.

“Here,” he said, setting it on the nightstand. “Human bodies need to drink. A lot. Practice until you can make sure the water only touches the inside of your mouth. You’ll have to drink in front of humans at some point or another.”

Nyel rounded on him. “You say that like I might interact with them for a while.”

Atreus chewed his lip. “You’ve made it pretty damn clear I can’t get rid of you. Not unless I want to make a scene, which I don’t.”

“That’s right,” Nyel confirmed, lifting his chin haughtily.

Atreus narrowed his eyes. “Don’t tempt me.”

“I won’t,” he deflated a bit.

“If you’re going to linger, then you might as well learn the basics. I collapsed from dehydration once. We don’t have to worry about it as Mer, but the land dwellers do. Practice.”

Nyel lifted the glass, holding it with both hands like a child, but didn’t bring it to his lips. His gaze fixed on the clear water as he readjusted his hold again.

“Sometime tonight would be nice,” Atreus said impatiently.

“I don’t know how,” Nyel bit back.

Atreus rolled his eyes. “Here.”

He guided the glass to Nyels lips, which parted over the edge and allowed the water to slide into his mouth. Of course, it dribbled from the sides, running down his neck and into the collar of his shirt. Nyel sputtered, coughing and spitting.

Atreus chuckled. “Not as easy as it looks, huh?” He smacked Nyel on the back as he choked.

“I’ll need more practice,” Nyel said with tears in his eyes.