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Chapter Four: Aria

Three hundred and forty-seven .

That’s how many things I have collected from the ocean floor. I clutch a small jeweled dagger in my hand, the silver metal glinting against my dark brown skin in the sunlight that streams in through a hole in the rock at the top of the cave. The green and purple gems catch the light and reflect tiny colorful flares—it’s how I had found the small weapon partially buried in the ocean floor’s sediment.

My small cave of keepsakes is tucked between an outcropping of ancient coral and rock, hardened and leached of color by time. I discovered this place by accident nearly two years ago, when my mother had made me take my first life. When she had forced me to —

I stop the thought before the memory can replay again in my mind. I lay the dagger on the naturally indented rock shelf next to a golden pin fashioned into the head of a roaring lion. Though the metal is rusted around the edges from its time in the water, the bright green of the emerald eyes still shines. My ruby-red braids float around me as I study my refuge, my one safe spot in the entire ocean because it is known only to me. Here, I don’t have to pretend to be anything harsher or scarier. I can honor those whose lives were cut short by my sisters and me. By my mother. By my kind. Though no one else—let alone the dead—will ever see it, I still feel a sense of duty to preserve their memory in some way.

To appease some of the guilt I feel.

The water is warm thanks to the summer sun, and though siren skin is made to withstand all temperatures under the surface, this time of year is my favorite. The warmth caresses my soft curves when I swim as opposed to the more piercing waters of winter. Plus, the need to change into my mortal form means that going onto the beach in the winter is extremely unpleasant. I shiver merely from the thought.

I wish I could stay here all day, basking in the sense of security this hidden cavern gives me, but I am due back in the capital for a party . Gritting my teeth, I cross a pouch made of deep blue woven eelgrass over my shoulder, its weight digging into my muscles, and slowly turn towards the sea kelp growing high from the ocean floor that hides the small second entrance to the cave. I prefer to enter and leave through this one, as it is less conspicuous than the hole in the rock far above. My hips undulate, working my red to yellow to green gradient tail in smooth motions to keep me hovering in place while I tentatively peer through the kelp.

When I see that no other sirens are nearby, I dart out, traveling quickly to a valley between two smaller seamounts that reach up about halfway to the surface. I propel myself with the help of the current back towards home.

Home.

It is the only place I have ever known, yet I often wonder if perhaps I am not meant for this world. It feels like a volatile, dangerous place, and I’ve never once known what it is to fully relax here. I may have been raised in a palace of gorgeous coral and seashell, but my soul often feels like I am entering a battlefield with zero advantage every time I go near it. And if the palace is a battlefield, then the other sirens who reside there are split into two hugely unequal groups: the too-few allies and the many I have no chance of befriending.

A passing school of zanclus fish draws me out of my thoughts, and I dip my chin in thanks to their thin black and yellow striped bodies as they separate so I can swim up the middle of their grouping. While siren magic doesn’t give us the ability to speak to the creatures of the sea, they do seem to know what our intentions are—good or bad. It is the way of all beings who inhabit the ocean, an instinctual understanding of not only the water we call home but the others who live here as well.

Some sirens have even made companions with different creatures. Like my sister Allegra, who managed to capture a delphinidae—the largest of its species and with a mean temperament that matches her own. With a sleek gray body and a long snout full of razor-sharp teeth, the delphinidae are nearly impossible to domesticate. Allegra had somehow not only caught her delphinidae, whom she named Mashaka, but she had also trained him to obey her every command. Together, they prowl these waters, ruthlessly striking fear into any and all who might challenge them or our queen.

There is no escaping what we are as sirens, what we are forced to become. It is beaten into us by words and decrees and sometimes by actual fists. In this queendom, compassion is a weakness and benignity a death sentence.

The miles that separate my secret cave from the capital city of Lumen are eaten up quickly with the current doing most of the work. Moving out of the valley and into more open waters, my eyes can’t help but scan along the ocean floor. I doubt I’ll find any new treasures this close to the city, but I still look on the off chance that I might. The ocean floor here is closer to the surface, the soft dark sediment of deeper waters turning to granular tan sand. Coral and anemones in tones of bright pink and sharp yellow dot along the sea bottom, interspersed between the bright green of the seaweed and deep red of the algae. Flowering enhalus plants dance in the undercurrent, their white and purple petals fanning open with the movement.

A deep thumping sounds in my ears as I see Lumen near. At first, I think it might be thunder from a storm overhead, but as I look up at the clear blue sky through the shimmering Spell, I realize it is the sound of my heart. My hands ball into loose fists, stopped short only by the sharp black talons that tip each of my fingers. No one knows where I was. It is not abnormal for me to explore the ocean. I remind myself over and over again.

The capital, Lumen, isn’t the only city in our realm, but it is by far the largest and where the majority of sirens reside. Scattered around the outskirts of the Continent are a few small towns and outposts, mostly there to serve as stopping points to rest on the journey north to the only land mass that is part of the Siren Queendom—the Northern Island.

Centered in Lumen is the palace where Queen Amari Malika and her five daughters live, as well as a menagerie of nobles and friends close to the Crown. Beautiful homes decorated in crushed pearlescent seashell and colorful sea glass surround the palace, lush plants and water flowers growing in between them. On the edge of the city live sirens who were unable to keep their homes in the chaos that occurred after the Spell was put into place, when they were labeled as traitors. They have carved homes into the inclines of the looming seamounts, the dwellings crude in comparison to the finery at the center of Lumen.

The shimmering veil that floats at the surface above has left our people more secluded than those above the water. Though I am much too young to know what life would have been like before the Spell separated the kingdoms, many sirens—my mother included—have vivid memories of sauntering down the streets of the lands above in their mortal forms. Those that remember tell their stories in bitter detail, loathing and longing both woven into their voices. I have never known a world where I can traverse another realm without dire consequences—and that includes the one I am currently swimming in.

I feel the eyes of the sirens in the seamounts as I advance past, their jewel-toned irises boring into me intensely, as if they can see down to my very soul. Perhaps they can. I am not like other sirens, and sometimes I feel it is very obvious exactly how different I am. If that were the case, however, my mother would have disposed of me long ago. Diving deeper towards the base of the mount, I watch a group of siren offspring playing in a small circle on the ocean floor.

The females here were skittish when I first arrived, but once they realized that I wanted to help them in the only way I could, most of them turned a blind eye to my visits. That doesn’t mean there aren’t a few that hate who and what I represent—the oppressive monarch that is forcing them to live in rudimentary caves instead of in the city like every other siren. But at least they don’t try to hurt me for it.

“Aria!” The small shrill voice brings a smile to my face as the rest of the young sirens turn their colorful heads towards me.

“Hello, young ones. How are you all today?”

“We’re playing naughts and crosses, and I have the most wins!” Tiana, a siren of eight, says. My knuckle gently brushes her cheek, making the dimpled smile there grow. Her hair is of similar color to mine, but where my reds are deep and rich in color, hers are bright with undertones of orange. They gleam beautifully against the soft dark brown of her skin.

“And you are playing fairly?” I ask with a mock serious tone and a lifted red brow.

She scoffs, crossing her little arms over the burnt orange scales on her chest. “I always play fair!”

“Not always! Yesterday you cheated!” I look over to the little female hovering above the ocean floor, her short yellow braids dangling above her ears. She watches me with wary eyes, a look that I’m not unfamiliar with. I force a smile to my face, hoping it conveys that, while I may live in the palace, I am not like the majority of those who reside there.

Tiana draws my attention back to her, her voice high-pitched as she asks, “Can you play one round with us?”

“No, I don’t have—”

“Please? Please, Aria?” They all start to chant loudly, surrounding me with their excited voices.

“Okay, okay. Just one round.” I don’t have time for even that, but staring at these young sirens—forced to live in near isolation for things that are no fault of their own—temporarily quells the need to make sure I am at the palace with more than enough time. If I swim fast enough, one game shouldn’t matter.

Except one game quickly turns into five.

“I really have to leave,” I say, rising from the ocean floor. “But before I go, will you give these to your mothers? And anyone else who needs it.” Reaching into my small satchel, I begin to pull out little bundles of gold coins wrapped in large blue kelp leaves. Each young siren eagerly lines up, the pouches barely in their palms before they are swimming away.

My anxiety builds as I race away from the seamounts, a line of more finely crafted homes appearing beneath me. The residences sparkle, their outsides made of coral, seashells, sea glass, and rock. Bright green seaweed and waxy-leafed waterweeds grow tall from the sand between them, providing a sense of privacy. Bathed in light, it’s easy to see how Lumen got its meaning: “a glow in the dark.” The city itself is an illuminated beacon.

My gaze is drawn back up towards the white palace ahead. There is a celebration tonight to honor the birth of my eldest sister. I swim high above the capital for as long as possible until I can no longer avoid my destination. Gliding through the water, I descend into the chaotic center of the main waterway that we use to traverse the city. Merchants line both sides, selling and bartering for goods. I think briefly about browsing the merchant stalls for something to gift Allegra, but I might as well slap myself in the face instead. It’s what she would do if I presented her with anything. Internally sighing, I pick up my pace, knowing that, though the party hasn’t officially started yet, I can’t afford to be one of the last ones there.

Water glides along the red scales that cover my breasts and sides, the shiny colorful crescent shapes going down and changing in color from yellow to green as they near the end of my tail. Nearly there. The grounds surrounding the palace are free of homes, instead filled with small hills of flowers, anemones, and coral reefs. I swim up to the palace entrance, meeting the members of the Queen’s Legion that are guarding it.

“Well, well, well. Look who is late again,” Sarina sneers at me. She looks menacing in the legion’s armor, which is carved from the tritonelli seashell—the largest and thickest seashells in our ocean. A breastplate in sandy tones protects her front, while spiky shoulder plates connect it to a back piece. Horns made from white and brown striped conch shells stick out on the top of her helmet, giving her a deviant appearance. I will my face into neutrality, having to work at putting on the mask of indifference that seems to be ingrained in every other siren. Through the small opening of her helmet, Sarina’s topaz eyes seem to glow as she lifts her lip in the smallest hint of a snarl.

I force my body to relax as I tell her to let me pass. Sarina doesn’t move, and Hova, the other legionary guarding this post, rolls her eyes at my command. My heart flutters fast as I force myself to look down my nose at them. Silent moments slide by, and though I can’t exactly sweat in my siren form, the anxiousness building within me makes me believe that I will be the first to do so. Finally, they both move out of the way, uncrossing their spears so I can pass under the arched doorway.

“Enjoy the party, Your Highness ,” Hova deadpans. Sarina snorts, grumbling something quietly that I am happy I can’t hear.

I focus on my breathing, relaxing each part of my body as I go farther into the glimmering white palace. Jaw and shoulders relaxed, lips flat, spine straight, and attitude vicious. Over and over, I repeat the instructions my sister Lyre taught me as I approach the large blue and purple sea glass door. A handful of legionaries glance at me quickly before turning their attention elsewhere.

Pushing the door open myself, I dart down a long hallway, the floor made of crushed seashells. It is open to the waters above, but only those given approval by the queen can swim within the palace itself. Stone pillars line either side, leading to corridors that branch off into various different rooms.

I swallow, the salty taste of the sea lingering in my mouth as I begin to pick up the low murmurs of voices beyond an opaque yellow sea glass door. Running through my list one last time, I roll my shoulders back and push through the door as though arriving at this exact moment was absolutely intentional. As if I decided to grace those here with my mere presence. Lyre had made me practice this cold face of apathy relentlessly, but I’ve never been the best at pretending and, somehow, the queen can always tell.

The throne room is brimming with sirens—all laughing and moving languidly about. They fill most of the space, their shiny scales sending small flares of light all over the chamber from how they reflect off the glowing crystals embedded in the walls. I brush past them all without a second glance as I make my way to the stone dais. The room is lavishly decorated, no corner left unadorned. Long strands of silky sea kelp painted with bioluminescent bacteria wrap around every pillar, glowing bright neon green and blue. Vines of red and orange are strung above me, their large yellow cup-shaped pondily flowers hanging heavily every few feet.

Despite the fact that I am one of the five daughters of Queen Amari, I am still expected to bow before my mother as if I was no better than someone born without a title. It’s not the show of respect that bothers me; it’s how she makes me feel like I’m doing it wrong . There is neither love nor regard freely given by my mother. I have to earn her affections by being as wicked as Allegra or as cunning as Sade, both sisters my mother favors feverishly above the rest of her offspring.

Queen Amari sits upon a wide throne of aged brown bones and decayed gray coral. Seashells in tan and yellow dot between the dead minerals, the only bit of color to be found not on the queen herself. The macabre mixture of the extravagant chair towers high into the water above, the sight of it making my stomach churn.

“Greetings, Your Majesty,” I say, bowing deeply at the waist and keeping my gaze drawn down. Her dark purple tail fin whips back and forth harshly, disturbing the water and creating swirls of small bubbles. I stay bowed, my upper body completely still and my abdomen muscles straining, as I wait for her to release me. Though the revelry of the other sirens still sounds around me, I can now feel the heat of their gazes searing through my scales and skin.

Still, I remain submissive.

“You may rise now, Aria.” Her voice, like all of our kind, is melodic though her tone is deeper—more amplified by the ancient power coursing through her and stronger than any other siren here. The hair rises on my arms as that magic washes over me in a sickly wave. “I’m so happy you decided to arrive, even if you are late. I must know, what took your attention so thoroughly that you nearly missed your eldest sister’s birthday?”

It takes all my effort—all the training Lyre worked on with me in secret—to remain completely relaxed. To not show any weakness like a quivering lip or trembling fingers. I am right on time, the party having only just started. However, I can’t say that. I can’t question the queen or suggest that she is wrong in any way. So I dip my chin and draw my gaze down again.

“Nothing more important at all, Your Majesty. I simply lost track of time.” I force the embarrassment from my cheeks as the chuckles of the partygoers behind me claw at my back. The foolish, weak youngest daughter of the siren queen, that’s who I am to them.

But it is better than them all finding out the truth.

With a tap from her massive golden trident—each tip adorned with a large jagged cut diamond—my mother silences the crowd’s ridiculing. I finally let my gaze rise again to meet her deep purple eyes, the color so dark it looks obsidian. Her thick black braids, each one embellished with gold beads stacked in various heights, writhe around her head like sea snakes. Her dark skin glows with the light of the neon sea kelp, making the gradient shades of purple on her scales stand out in stark contrast. Like all sirens, her form is supple and soft, giving the illusion of a gentle creature. It is part of how we lure others in. Yes, our magic makes it impossible for any males to resist, but being beautiful also calms victims. It makes them less afraid of us than they should be.

My mother smiles, her bright white teeth looking sinister as she flashes them at me.

“Do try to keep your mind under the surface where it belongs instead of in the clouds, yes?”

“Of course, Your Majesty. My apologies,” I concede before movement draws my gaze to the space next to my mother. Allegra treads the water gracefully, her dark blue tail undulating like a predator lurking in the shadows. She watches my interaction with our mother hungrily. Deep sapphire eyes set within rich dark skin meet mine, her lips tugging up to the right in a sharp smirk. “Happy birthday, sister. May you be blessed by all the queens that have passed,” I tell her. She narrows her eyes, her half smile dropping quickly.

“Today is a lovely day!” my mother shouts, lifting her trident high in the air as she raises both arms. While the words spoken are joyous, the underlying lilt is one of warning. I spot Lyre and my other sisters off to the side of the dais and swim their way quickly. The crowd turns rapt attention to their queen, all of them wide-eyed and eager for her words. With another tap of her trident, the yellow sea glass door I came through swings open. Every head turns to look, the room falling into complete silence. “Not only is it Allegra’s birthday, but we have even more reason to celebrate.”

A few of the party attendees bristle with movement as someone travels up the center aisle. I glance at my mother, and the feral glint in her eyes causes my stomach to bottom out. Whatever is about to happen, it makes my mother happy , and that means we are going to witness something horrific.

“My dear subjects, we have found a traitor in our midst.”