Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Maren looks at him. “Y-yes. My sister. That’s why we’ve g-got to rescue her.” Then she looks to me and frowns. Despite her blue lips and her chattering teeth and the news that her sister has been captured, there’s a look in her eyes that says she underestimated me, probably because Abe just proved I never told him about their relationship. That I can keep a secret.
But that look is short-lived.
Suddenly, determination comes across her brow, and she gets to her feet, shucking off her blanket. “I’ve got to swim ahead and get her.”
“Maren, no,” Ramsay says. “We’ll get her together.”
She shakes her head violently, her wet hair flying. “Nill said the storm is bad, enough to slow down even the Nightwind. I’ll be able to go under the waves. Nill will lead me there. I’ve got to go ahead—it’s the only way I can try and save her before the ship leaves with her on board.”
Did you know her sister is Larimar? Abe asks me. Ah, but you have known and you didn’t tell me. Frankly, I’m hurt.
I don’t have time to try and explain to Abe why I didn’t tell him, because Maren suddenly starts running across the deck and leaps over the side, Ramsay screaming after her as she disappears.
A storm is coming.
And my Larimar is out there, captured by some other ship, by some other person who means to do her harm.
I wonder if now, of all times, my beast should be invited to return.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
LARIMAR
Chaos.
In seconds, my world descended into chaos.
The nets were drawn up to the deck of the ship, and I was dumped there in a heap. I don’t remember much of it, except that I was kicked, poked, and prodded by various boots and weapons. I heard men laughing, calling me names. I didn’t understand their language, the sounds harsh and guttural, but I knew when they were insulting me, spitting on me.
I must have snarled at them, swiped at them with my claws, tried to bite them, but they were prepared. It wasn’t their first time hunting Syrens, and they knew what to do. They came at me with chains and a heavy object to the head.
The world was full of pain and stars before it went black, and when I came to, I was in this glass box, barely long enough to fit me, my tail curling up at the end. It’s filled with murky salt water, my gills just getting enough in, though I don’t think the water will sustain me for long. It’s hard to say if they know much about Syrens and that we can breathe air if needed. I would rather breathe the air than be stuck inside this glass cage with filthy water.
Larimar.
I tilt my head to the side, wincing through the pain as I look over to see Vialana in the box beside me. We’re in a ship’s cabin, the water in our boxes sloshing as the ship slams into wave after wave.
You shouldn’t have come for me, Vialana says, sorrow in her anguished eyes.
She’s right. I shouldn’t have. But I felt so powerless when I watched Asherah get taken by the pirates that I couldn’t just let the same thing happen to another Syren.
Though I don’t think these men are pirates. I had glimpses of them when Asherah was hauled up—they spoke another language, English, I think, and weren’t dressed the same way these men are. These men remind me of that soldier back in Chile.
And I have a feeling they have the same thing planned for me.
My blood runs cold at the thought. I would rather take my own life than be subjected to the torturous, immoral whims of these men.
Ullan must have known, Vialana says. But how?
The thought of Ullan kicks rage into my heart, but all the fury in the world won’t help me now.
Maybe he saw them in the area and led them into the bay, making sure we were there already, I say, pressing my hands up against the top of the glass, testing the strength. Maybe he knows them somehow.
But a Syren making friends with a human? she asks.
It happens, I tell her.
And sometimes, they fall in love with them.
Silence stretches between us. I wish I had known Vialana better before this. She seems a lot sweeter than I thought. Perhaps I could have made more of an effort to get to know the Syrens instead of relying on Sipha.
But I’m tired of having so many regrets.
I’m so tired of everything.
My eyes close, and I drift off to sleep for a few minutes before I hear Vialana say, What do you think they’ll do to us?
I don’t know, I say. I remember what Priest said about exhibitions and museums and being kept in a glass box much like this one, people tapping on it, trying to taunt you, but I don’t want to tell Vialana any of that. If a Syren’s freedom is taken away, she loses all hope. She loses everything.