Of Scallywags and Sorcery

A Saviour and A Sacrifice

***

The sky is a forget-me-not blue, a bright mockery of the dark magic I have been tasked with defeating.

The Cetus's scaly neck slips in my grip as we slither across the rippling mirror of the ocean. I've been at sea for so long that I've forgotten what it's like to be dry, to be surrounded by sturdy land as far as my eye reaches.

I hold on for dear life. I am a guppy to this massive sea monster. If I was lost to the endless ocean, I doubt he would notice.

I miss the Makara. He was snarky, sure, but at least he talked to me. The Cetus hasn't breathed a word, not even to the morgen who commanded him to transport me. Maybe he can't speak at all.

The water darkens. It feels cold, somehow dead around me. I trust my sense even though my eyes haven't adjusted to the watery world the Atlanteans and the morgens war within.

The Cetus rears above the surface. I gaze around in wonder, in fear.
It has been said that the song of the creatures I seek would steal my heart if their beauty didn't first. I dread falling foul of another enchantment. I dread our inevitable meeting.

Ahead, two rocky outcrops face each other. A watery passage separates them, wide enough for ships to pass through, but I doubt any ever has because the rocks are dotted with pale forms. As we near, I recognise them as beautiful women with fishtails half obscured by shadows. The sunlight glimmers off their other halves, catching the scales on their flickering tails.

I dare to hope that the Cetus and I have successfully escaped their notice.

Then the singing starts.

The ethereal notes float through the midday, livening the still air. I want to release the Cetus. I want to dive into the sea and swim over to the sirens. I want them to devour me if only because I want their captivating song to be the last thing I ever hear.

The tentacles around the Cetus's head stir. Before I know it, they've wrapped themselves around my arms, binding me to the sea monster. I tug at them, but they don't give.

Beneath the sea's salty touch, I sweat in exertion. My heart thuds in desperation to escape, to be near the voices.

We arrive within the sirens' range. The singing stops. The day sounds hollow, empty without its sound. I feel the blaze of a hundred pairs of eyes on me, burning hotter than the sun. There's expectation in their silence.

"My name is Chaitra!" I call.

The Cetus's tentacles still hold me fast.

"I have come on behalf of the morgens. A dark magic possesses them. Only you can free them."

The siren sitting on the highest rock smiles at me. Her beauty is unnatural. Her eyebrows are too arched, her nose too straight.
"You have a lovely voice."

I blink in surprise. "Thank you?"

She tilts her head. The sunlight glints off her wet, dark hair. "We will help you. The morgen's power is no match for ours. But we have one condition."

"What is it?" I ask too eagerly, but time is running out. For all I know, the morgens have overwhelmed the Atlanteans, and Queen Meda is dead.

The siren's deep-set eyes glitter. "In return for our help, we want your voice."

My mouth falls open.

The siren waves her pale hand. "I think it would add a nice undertone to our haunting melody. These aren't merely our voices, you know. They're every beautiful voice that ever tried to escape us."

I bite my lip. My life would never be the same if I sacrificed my voice. How could I go to school if I couldn't speak? How could I have friends or a job?

But the morgens must be stopped. Once they destroy Atlantis, who knows how much of the ocean they'll conquer? That could alter life on land. It could affect trade, stability and nature.

The djinn was defeated. The sirens are my only hope.

"It's a deal," I say even though my stomach twists into a knot.
I was chosen for this mission. I must see it through.

"We always keep our word." The siren smiles. "Only after our victory over the morgens will we take your voice." She looks around at her sisters. "To Atlantis!"

They fall into the sea like snowflakes but cut through the water like swordfish. The Cetus's tentacles hold me close as we follow in their wake.

Within minutes, we arrive at Atlantis. My head spins as the Cetus dives down to the kingdom resting on the ocean's bottom.

The morgens have gathered Queen Meda's last warriors into a small group and advance on them, spears drawn.

The sirens form a circle around them. They pull instruments made from bones and tendons out of nowhere. They play, their long, bony fingers rippling, their enchanting voices vibrating through the water.

The morgens freeze. They drift towards the sirens, drawn to them by their magical music.

When they're close enough, the sirens shoot out sharp-taloned hands that slice into the morgens' bellies. They stumble back as one, choking as darkness spills out of them with their blood, the same darkness that turned them evil.

The colour floods back into their skin. The shimmer returns to their scales. They open their eyes, their old selves looking out at a new world.

The mermaids embrace the sirens who have saved them, cheering for their freedom from the wicked magic that caged them. The Atlanteans rush out from their hiding places without fear for the first time in weeks.

I want to add my cries of joy to those erupting around me, but when I open my mouth, not a sound escapes me.

I knew the price I would pay for the sirens' help, but I wasn't ready for it.

They have kept their promise, and I've kept mine.