The Sound of a Siren's Call

22.) The End of the Sea Voyage

Dedicated to Olivaughn whose advice helped me write the brief fight scene in this chapter.
I gaped at the still distant shore. I'd forgotten that we were trying to get somewhere. Dread built up in me. I was felt like I couldn't breathe. I took a ragged breath and then another.

I tugged on the rope in my hands and tried to ignore the sight, but we inched closer and it kept growing until specks grew into towering trees and it was impossible to ignore. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat.

The thud of the ship's hull on a sandy peninsula felt like a blow, even as I righted myself by force of habit.

I sat down, hugging my knees to my chest. Shadows clung to the trees. The shore barely existed before the forest engulfed it, covering the land for an undetermined distance. I didn't want to get off the ship. It felt more like home than a dark forest would.

I watched as people crowded on the deck, looking like ants on a little anthill below me. They crowded around each other. Then, they divided into clear lines. Three lines furled out under me. The Kiserites making up the outer two, the Regnese making up the middle one.

I saw the captain pull back and then the air seemed to freeze. Then the captain looked me in the eye. I stood and stared back at him.

Two men climbed up the mainmast, but I was ready for them. Something inside me knew it wouldn't work, but I itched to try.

They came at me tentatively, like they were trying not to startle me. I stood at ease and they were a bit more confident.

Then one lunged for me and I was ducking. He regained his footing easily, but my foot was already in motion. His eyes widened as he registered the small kick, but by then he was preparing to stay on the thick wooden beam, not stopping me.

The second man made a looping motion to try to pin my arms behind me, but I lunged forward, my head just under his fist, my shoulder barreling into his stomach.

I knew it was only a matter of time before I lost, but I enjoyed toying with the men. Their moves grew more desperate, but in the end, there were two of them and one of me. I could only deal with one of them at a time when they were on either side of me, and they used that to their advantage.

I still tried to kick and scratch for the sake of it when one slung me over his shoulder and crawled back down to the deck. He dumped me on the ground in front of the captain and it was all I could do to not grin up at him.

I saw Castor out of the corner of my eye. Juniper was signing at me, but I looked at the Captain's face. He'd turned red, and not in the rosy way I'd always heard about.

He jerked me to my feet and gripped my arm. His gait was quicker than mine, so I had to stumble along with him. With a few words from him, they lowered a plank down to the sandy shore below.

I tried to get the captain to loosen his grip by trying my best to keep up with him and resisting my instinct to struggle. My plan was to rip free and try to escape into the sea.

He didn't loosen his grip and any struggle only earned me a glare. We stopped on the sandbar and the captain passed me off to another man. One look at his build and I gave up my plan.

He kept just as firm of a grip, his toned arms flexing as though he was trying to make sure I knew that he was stronger than me.

I turned my attention to the captain. He was talking to a group of men, and I craned my neck to try to see them. They were too far away for me to try to lipread with any accuracy.

The new man sauntered forward to talk to one of the guards. I realized with dismay that my current arrangement meant I ended up next to Castor.

"Are you okay?" He asked, not looking at me, but his eyebrows were knit together.

"Yeah. You?"

"I've been worse." His hands crossed each other and I looked at him.

"You're getting better at sign."

He nodded. "J is teaching me."

"It's only been a few days." I accidentally bumped my captor's arm signing "day" and he glared at me.

"Actually a few—How do you sign W-E-E-K-S?"

I showed him, straining to get my other hand positioned to show him. My guard wasn't amused. and the conversation fizzled out.

My hand was starting to go numb from how tight it was being held. I curled my fingers and pins and needles spread up my arm. I curled my fingers in again.

"You're ok?" He was looking at me now.

"Yeah."

"Why did you put up a F-I-G-H-T?"

"I need my other arm to sign it, but I just didn't want to go."

Castor looked up and talked to my guard. It evidently didn't go well. Castor drew attention and eventually the guard moved his grip to my wrist and shoved me behind him.

I peeked out behind him and met Castor's eyes just before my guard stocked forward. He pulled me with him, and I stumbled. I wasn't looking at Castor anymore, but I knew what happened. He'd doubled over and the guard still stood over him.

I caught his lips. Want to say that again?

Castor shook his head and the man turned back to his conversation as though nothing had happened.

"Are you okay?"

He didn't answer for a moment. Eventually, he straightened. "I'm fine."

"Okay."

"You were saying you didn't want to go?"

"Ships," the sign didn't feel whole without my second hand forming the little imitation of a boat, "feel like home."

He nodded. "You're homesick?"

"In a way."

"So am I. We'll make it home. P-R-O-M-I-S-E."

I signed promise, and as my palm hit my restrained fist, it felt final somehow. It felt true, even if we both knew there was no way for us to promise that.