“The deeds of man disappear like footprints in the sand,” the raven-haired woman said as she looked out at the crushed turquoise sea. “Nothing lasts forever. Not this pain. Not this life. Not even this kingdom you seem so desperate to run away from. Remember—whether you stay or go in your lifetime doesn’t matter. At the end, everything will wash away.”

A wiry young man with dark red hair stared at the woman in awe. Until today, Glenn had mistakenly believed Madame Lennox’s presence was an indulgence of the captain. Now, it seemed to be the other way around.

Madame Lennox turned from the ship's bow and gave Glenn an appraising look before looking back to the sea. A distinctly uncomfortable sensation rose through his stomach as his face burned pink. A former street rat turned sea rat, Glenn didn’t know the manners necessary to interact with a lady like Lennox— so he offered awkward mumbles and half bows.

Cynthia Lennox soon had the bow to herself. She laughed at the youthful bashfulness of the deckhand. He had offered her an insightful comment on measuring the distance to the horizon before devolving into embarrassed babble. Cynthia didn’t mind either— it was nice to be admired by a pure heart from time to time.

Glenn cursed his nerves as he ducked into the hull. He didn’t understand how his crew mates talked to women. His brain seemed to short out once they smiled at him (maybe it was because of its rarity, he wondered).

Cynthia hoped there was someone sweet that prayed for Glenn. It wasn’t his fault that the captain didn’t know what she was. The crew wouldn’t make their intended destination— they would make hers.

***

Her voice held a queer tone as she told the men to aim toward the rocks.

She sang a keening lullaby— easing the pain of morality. The men, all save the young cabin boy, were caught in its spell.

The captain barked orders to have the men follow Madame Lennox’s commands.

Except Madame Lennox had shed her disguise. A woman no longer stood in her place. A scaled figure— glinting of blue-green and old fury stood there instead. Had they control of their minds, even the heathens abroad would have prayed. For here, upon open waters, they had strayed into the land of demons.

“Why are you doing this?” Glenn asked with a quivering voice. The siren’s gaze sapped the last shreds of meager courage.

“I’m following my nature— as these men have followed their’s.”

“What about me?”

“You’re a sweet boy, but if you hadn’t already made your choice, you wouldn’t be on this ship.”

The spray of salt and the whirl of wind through threadbare sails spoke as clearly as any bell. The sea welcomed the renewal of bonds as a solitary figure dipped below the waves before the crash of tempered wood upon hidden reefs.