Page 20 of Finding Her (Lore of the Fields #1)

“Graysen, is that a person?” I whispered.

He leaned in, and our foreheads nearly touched to allow us both to view out the window. “Your seventh lesson in our people. Sirens.”

I startled at a sudden thud against the glass, knocking my skull into Graysen’s.

A webbed hand nearly the size of the frame had slapped the window right in front of my face.

As I gripped my chest and took a deep breath to recover from my surprise, a humanoid face appeared and stared back.

The fucker was laughing at my reaction, as was Graysen despite his attempt to hide his amusement within a cough. I narrowed my eyes at him.

The Siren’s body was hairless, and his smooth skin shimmered with what little light made it this deep.

His flesh was honey-toned, fading to a counter-shaded burgundy along his back.

His hair was a warm brown and wisped around his face in a feathery cloud.

His eyes were solid black, much like Mykie’s, but were encased in narrow almond-shaped lids that tilted at the outer edges.

He smiled and waved at us, his teeth tiny and pointed, with an obvious chunk of flesh stuck between them.

“Not mermaids?” I mumbled under my breath. The term “ Siren ” resonated with me as a monster of mythology. Mermaids sing happy songs. Sirens hunt, calling men to their doom. I wondered why this species harbored the more negative fish-person namesake. I didn’t find this man’s little prank malicious.

Graysen leaned in closer to the window and pointed at his own teeth.

The Siren tilted his head curiously for a moment, then seemed to understand the message.

He used a claw from between the webs of his fins to pick out the fleshy chunk of meat and gave Graysen an unsure thumbs up.

Graysen nodded and mouthed, “ You got it .”

Having already lost interest, the man started to swim away, revealing a muscular tail with a spiked sail lining his back.

“There must be a colony of them nearby,” Graysen remarked.

“Are they friendly?” I searched for more in the distance, but the water had become too dark for me to see much beyond our immediate vicinity.

“I’ve never met a mean one.” He shrugged his lax shoulders.

“Then again, I haven’t met many of them.

They live in deep water away from other people.

There are caverns that roughly thirty to fifty Sirens will inhabit at one time.

The caves are beautiful. The walls are covered in crystals, and they chisel away at large rocks to create magnificent furniture and décor.

I visited one once when I was in my nomad phase of life. ”

Anticipation growing into enchantment, I kneeled on the bench and stared out the window.

All shapes, colors, and sizes of marine life flicked past us as we soared ahead.

The ocean floor was in view a few yards below us, and the faint glow from the carriage illuminated what would have otherwise been total darkness.

“Why does the sand shift colors like that?” I asked, noticing that the pink sand faded to orange, then back to pink again. As if they couldn’t blend.

“Are you asking me about science again? Or will mythology suffice?”

“Mythology is perfect.” Frankly, I didn’t want to bring up scientists again on our road trip-sea voyage-expedition-odyssey.

“Lore claims the lines would paint a picture if you viewed them from the heavens. Although, opinions differ on what you might see.”

“What do you think the painting is of?” I asked, watching another section of orange twist beneath us.

“Most people just say it’s a map of the world. My preferred theory is a longer story.” He avoided my question with a hint of self-consciousness, quieting his typically confident voice. “You’ll find I’m full of them.”

My heart panged in response to his hesitation. “I’m all ears.”

Graysen telling stories was exactly what I wanted.

I had an insatiable hunger to learn more about Trebianna, its people, him .

The fact that he hadn’t picked up on that yet was frustrating.

It felt as though I was walking around with a large question mark mounted to my forehead that he regularly ignored.

He came off guarded, even about subjects that I felt were surely inconsequential.

It was as if every word that left his lips had to be filtered.

How exhausting and unnecessary. Over time I would have to prove my eagerness to absorb, and my strength to handle the less palatable.

I lowered myself so that I was mostly lying on my stomach, assuming the most attentive position I could muster. I used my elbows to support my chin so that I could still comfortably peer over the lower sill of the glass while listening.

He observed me for a moment with an appreciative smile before beginning, “I think the painting is of the god of the sea’s lover.

Legend has it that the god of water once fell in love with a beautiful female, and he gave her everything she wanted.

He gifted her colorful stones in the form of jewelry and created new species for her to keep as pets, just for her amusement.

These aquatic pets lived in the lake outside of a castle he built for her in a desolate desert of sand where the ocean now resides.

“One day she demanded that he create something larger for her—something more exciting.

She was bored with the cute and graceful creatures he made: she desired a being that was powerful and frightening.

And she wanted complete rule over that creature.

He complied, generating a beast the size of a castle with teeth as large as her whole body.

This was her favorite pet of all, and she would watch it eat the other creations with joy, knowing that while it was the boss of the lake, she was the boss of it.

“One day, while walking along the shore, she saw one of her oldest pets whom she had always loved dearly.

In fact, this was the first creation that the god had made for her.

She smiled to herself and spoke to it about how happy she was.

The god had recently proposed marriage and she shared the wedding plans with excitement.

“When the massive shadow of her ego swam near, she became afraid for her beloved first gift.

Bending over quickly, she reached into the water to scoop it out before it was eaten.

She decided she would keep it in a tank by her bed to always be treasured.

But she was too late. As her hands went in to lift out her cherished pet, the predator of the sea leaped forward and swallowed them both whole.

“The god was heartbroken. He tried with all his power to get the animal to give him his lover back. But unfortunately, in giving his love complete control over the beast, he had neglected to give himself any power. When he realized this, he wept so heavily that his tears of overwhelming grief created the very first ocean. Ever since, he’s walked the sea floor with an orange brush, painting her portrait in the pink sand in remembrance and honor of her. ”

Surprised by the depth of the story Graysen had taken the time to explore, I nodded as he spoke. A new tenderness for him ached my chest as I considered the tone of his tale. Is Graysen a romantic? He had certainly been engaging, his voice following the rhythmic melody of a seasoned storyteller.

“That’s beautifully tragic.”

He pulled himself to his knees next to me and pointed out of the window. “See the line? That could be the soft curve of her cheek… or maybe the indent of the waist that he held at night.” His slate eyes shone with childlike imagination.

“That story is significantly more compelling than a map of the world,” I offered, placing a hand on his thigh supportively.

He needed to understand that I wanted us to daydream together.

I was entering this world with infantile naivety, and needed a guide who could incorporate the wonder of youth and fairytales into their lessons.

Resting on folded knees, Graysen was a good two feet higher than my reclined frame. Our height difference doubled, and I found my mouth inches from his abdomen, which rose and fell with deep breaths. A shiver went up my spine when he gazed down at me, the situation undeniably intimate.

“The map of the world theory is overwhelmingly more popular,” he breathed softly. His voice was low, steady.

“I like the painting one more.”

Our eyes locked. His breath fogged the glass behind me.

A tantalizing feeling crept up in me, telling me to lean another inch forward so that I could feel the radiating warmth of his core against my lips.

It was comforting to be so close to another person, physically and emotionally.

For the first time I could remember, I didn’t feel completely alone.

As if the space between us was magnetically charged, my body seemed to drift towards fulfilling that desire for touch, my lips parting to inhale him greedily as the gap between us closed.

Suddenly, his eyes snapped away from mine and shot down to his watch, “If my Silvates are on schedule, then we should be arriving shortly.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll go sit on the other bench so we don’t fall into each other when we break the waves.”