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“I’ve never tended to a male human before,” she said thoughtfully. “The compassion I felt for him surprised me.”

“Why’d it surprise you?”

She shrugged. “I guess I never thought about men feeling vulnerable before. It didn’t occur to me. Although, you don’t, of course,” she added. “You’re invulnerable.”

“Just because I can’t die doesn’t mean I can’t be destroyed,” he murmured, thinking of his mother and her fate. Though she lived, she was destroyed beyond recognition, and by her own hand, too. “Sometimes, death can be a mercy.”

Riella’s voice softened. “Do you wish you could die? Would you give the protection up, if you could?”

“It’s not as simple as wishing I could die. I wish I had something I’d give my life for.”

“Everyone wishes that, don’t they?”

“Not everyone. But the ones worth knowing do.”

They were quiet for some time, the bow slicing through the dark water. It was incredible to think that Riella lived down there, just days ago. If he was honest with himself, he held a private, selfish desire that she’d not regain her tail anytime soon. He wasn’t ready to let her go yet.

Then, he remembered his conversation with Ulyss. “I’ve got some bad news for you. We’ll be stuck on an island while the crew fixes the hull. A week, give or take.”

Riella’s face fell. “A week? But Seraphine could be dead by then!”

“I’m sorry. Nothing about today went to plan.”

She sighed. “I suppose Polinth needs her alive. That might tip the odds in my favor.”

Jarin’s so-called invulnerable heart flared with warmth for the siren. She was so determined that he almost wished he could make her a Dark Tide pirate. If only the rest of the crew wouldn’t mutiny if he tried.

He nudged her. “From what I saw today, my money’s on you.”

She smiled sadly and looked to the horizon, where the obsidian-dark silhouette of Hieros Isle loomed against the twinkling navy sky.

CHAPTER 14

Riella awoke to jungle sounds and dazzling yellow sunshine.

A breeze from the open treehouse window slid over her bare legs. Sitting up in bed, she wriggled her toes and sighed. Unfortunately, she had not magically reverted to her full siren form during the night.

Jarin had brought her to the treehouse after they disembarked the Pandora in the dead of the night. Hieros Isle was one of dozens of Dark Tide hideouts on remote islands dotted throughout the ocean. Sentinels had immediately been posted all around the perimeter of the isle, to provide warning should Artus and his crew attack.

She thought glumly of Seraphine, and willed the elf to hold on for another week. What if Polinth drained her of life completely during that time? And Riella was stuck here on an island with a bunch of stinky pirates.

The day was already hot. She still wore the dress from Madame Quaan’s, the layered skirts tangled in the white linens of her brass-framed bed. Tearing the fabric, she shortened the dress to above her knees and removed the sleeves. Her boots lay on the floor where she’d kicked them off last night. For now, she left them there, wandering around the treehouse barefoot instead.

The floorboards were smooth, and the rooms were furnished simply in brass fittings and cane, with cream linen curtains billowing in the salt-scented breeze. Excited bird chatter was the only sound apart from the distant crash of waves on the beach.

Riella drank the pitcher of water on the small round table. Hunger prompted her to search the shelves and drawers for food, but there was nothing. Her stomach ached as she wistfully recalled the fried potatoes Jarin gave her in Klatos.

She decided to go and find him. He’d know what to eat, and if he couldn’t help her, the ocean was right there. She could always dive for kelp.

As she stepped across the threshold of the front door, her head spun. The treehouse, connected to several others by a complex network of narrow wood-and-rope suspension bridges, was far higher off the ground than she thought. Last night, she arrived in the dark with Jarin leading her and hadn’t realized.

She gripped the railings as she navigated the structure, trying to find a way to the ground that didn’t involve falling to her death.

The treehouses were made of bamboo and wood, covered in snaking vines and surrounded by palm fronds. The jungle was dense on all sides and she seemed to be alone. She was struck by the horrible possibility that Jarin and the crew had abandoned her on this island. Marooned, pirates called it. What would she do?

Then, the bubbly sound of children’s laughter came from somewhere below. Riella followed it, eventually finding her way to the ground, touching down on the soft white sand with relief.

A path under the canopy led her to a clearing. In the middle of the clearing was a fire pit, ringed by overturned barrels and lean-to bamboo shelters.