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“Then have you thought about what you will offer me for my services?” he asks, turning his back to me as he goes to the jar on the table and picks it up.

“I figured whatever I thought of, you would have a better idea.”

“You’re probably right about that,” he says, peering at the jar in his hands. The bottom quarter is filled with some clear liquid, and there are some things floating in it, most likely my scales and strands of hair he unceremoniously plucked from my head the other day, along with some green herbs. Then, he picks up the two silver chalices he used to collect and drink my blood on the first night, placing them on the floor directly under my wrists.

I know where this is going.

“Can you not just bite me?” I ask, trying to keep the fear from my voice.

The corner of his mouth lifts. “Oh, I will. Don’t worry.”

He sets the jar under one arm as he places a spike against my left wrist and pulls out a rusty hammer from his pocket, the kind I used to see at Jorge’s shipyard.

I don’t even have time to brace myself.

He pounds the spike directly into my wrist with an explosion of pain that brings acid up my throat, causing me to scream in pure agony. Gray fuzz forms at the corners of my vision, and I feel myself starting to slip away.

“I thought you would be used to pain by now,” he comments quietly as the blood pours from my wrist into the chalice. “Perhaps you’re becoming more human by the second.”

He crosses in front of me and does the same to the other wrist.

This time, I bite down on my tongue until it bleeds. I’m reminded of Maren, how the sea witch cut out her tongue. Maybe it’s part of the bargain.

The blood spills from my wrists, and he places the jar underneath, letting a few drops splash into the contents. Satisfied, he takes the jar away and holds it out in front of me.

“I need you to drink this,” he says simply.

“Fuck you.” I scowl through the pain, unable to keep from whimpering. The sound of my blood hitting the chalices echoes.

He stares at me thoughtfully, and I’m tempted to spit on him again, but he would only like that, especially with the taste of blood in my mouth.

“Before you drink it,” he says, his voice measured, “I need you to agree to the terms of the bargain. I will do my best to grant you legs. In the process, I will do what I can to keep your Syren blood intact. This might mean you’ll have your teeth and your claws and your gills. It might not. It is a risk I am willing to take, but you must give me something more than just your blood.”

“What?” I ask through gritted teeth. I feel as if I’m growing weaker by the second.

“You must promise to belong to me forever, body and soul.”

I blink at him, the pain fading for a moment while I try to understand his meaning.

“Body and soul?”

His eyes darken. “You will always be mine, Larimar. You will always be bound to me.”

That’s all I have to do? I can tell him I will always be his, and he’ll just give me what I want? “Alright,” I say warily.

He gives me a cruel little smile and takes a step forward, still holding out the jar. “I’m no fool, little fish. You may think you can tell me what I want to hear, but this spell will bind you to it. No matter where you go, I will find you. I will take you back, take what’s mine. I know you mean to escape any way you can, but even if you’re successful one day, I will stop at nothing to hunt you down. This magic will ensure I find you, no matter how long it takes. And believe me, you won’t want me to find you.”

I don’t say anything to that, just continue to breathe through the pain, which is slowly abating. Why does he want me so much? Is it just because of my magic blood? Or does he actually want me? My body? My company?

“In addition,” he goes on in a clipped voice, “this spell will remain entirely at my bidding. If I ever need to turn you back into a Syren, tail and all, all I need to do is immerse you in the ocean. The salt water will reverse the magic. I can take it all away as easily as I can give it.” He waits a beat, long lashes flicking as his eyes scan my features. “Well? Do you accept this bargain?”

“Do I have a choice?”

His eyes dance at that. “Don’t sell yourself short, little fish. You know you always have a choice, even if it feels like you don’t.”

I exhale as heavily as I can. Even though I’ve gotten used to being tied to the cross with my tail supporting me from the bottom, it’s still challenging to get a proper breath into my lungs.

Though I suppose I won’t have to worry about my tail much longer. I only hope my feet touch the ground.