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“A Syren with legs,” I remark carefully. “How peculiar.”

“Yes,” she says, letting her hair back down. “It is very peculiar. I won’t go into the logistics of it, but since you were a witch, or are a witch, I’m sure you can guess what happened.”

Larimar’s words ring in my ears.

I know a Syren who wanted legs instead of a tail. She wanted to be able to become a human, to walk and live on land. The sea witch was able to do that for her.

My mouth feels full of sand, and I try to swallow. “A witch gave you legs,” I say hoarsely. “What kind of witch? How did that happen? When? Is that common?”

Her brows pull together. “It was a sea witch,” she says warily. “Her name was Edonia, and as far as I know, it’s not a common thing. I wanted legs so I could be on land.”

“But why?”

She shrugs. “I was young and terribly stupid. I was angry at my father for ignoring me, for paying more attention to my older sisters. So I made a deal with her…” She waves a dismissive hand at me. “At any rate, it’s a long story and, depending on how you behave, there are many days and nights ahead of us to tell it.”

I’m trying to remember if Larimar ever said anything about her family or her sisters, but she never told me anything.

“What do you mean ‘behave’?” I ask, thinking back to what she just said.

“I heard the rumors of a Syren being found in the waters by your village, and I heard your account of what happened.”

“From who?”

“From Abe,” she says with a coy smile. “You get that doctor some rum and he’ll tell you everything.”

Skip mews, and she reaches down to scoop the cat up into her arms.

“I know,” she says to the cat. “But I have to make sure he’s not a threat.”

“Are you talking to the cat?”

“And the cat is talking back,” she says frostily.

I ignore that. I suppose being on a ship for too long will do that to you. “What did Abe tell you?”

“That you hunted for the Syren, caught her, tortured her a little, fed from her, and then she escaped. How did she get away?”

I remain composed. “She was drying out. I put her in the surf to wet her tail, and that’s the last thing I remember. She must have hit me with it.”

“I’m glad she escaped,” she says.

“I’m not.”

She gives me a knowing smile. “And that’s why I need to know if you’ll behave. I can’t have you capturing these Syrens and trying to torture or feast on them.”

“No?”

“I’m a Syren, after all,” she says. “Even now. With magic, I can get my tail back anytime I am submerged. I’m still a monster, same as you, and I must protect my own kind, even if we’re feral beasts. You must have felt the same way about your kin at the monastery.”

I blink, still perplexed by all of this. “But if you don’t want any harm to come to the Syrens, why are you going after them? I heard this was a hunting expedition.”

“It is,” she says, a coldness coming over her eyes. “We’re hunting one Syren in particular.”

“Which one?”

“My sister,” she says with a raise of her chin. “Her name is Larimar.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven