Page 13

Bree

B ack in Calypso’s lair, I stared at the witch in horror. My ribs seemed to fuse and constrict, gripping my heart in a vise.

Oh, goddess…

What had I done?

"That can’t possibly be part of the deal."

Calypso sat on her bone-white coral throne, her red lips curled up as if she was enjoying my reaction. Because she was. "It’s the most important part, child. And you’ve already agreed to it."

She was right. I’d signed the contract, but I had thought the statement, "Service provider will have full access and authority over recipient’s magic," meant the sea witch could order me to use my magic however she wished.

I never would have agreed to give up my song completely, the very essence of who and what I was.

The witch wanted my magic as part of the deal to control me. She didn’t trust that I wouldn’t try to do to her what my father did.

"I’m not my father," I argued, clenching my fists by my side. "And you’re stronger now. Even if I wanted to try something like that, you’d overpower me easily."

The end of her long tail twitched against her throne in agitation. "It’s not up for debate, princess. The deal is done. Now sing."

There was no getting out of this—the consequences for backing out now would be fatal.

I’d willingly signed my life away without fully understanding the terms. The thought of relinquishing my siren song filled me with such a profound sense of loss.

There had to be another way, something I was missing.

Calypso extended the conch shell she gripped in her clawed hand toward me, demanding the vocal currency that would seal our pact. Tendrils of her dark green magic swirled around the shell, waiting to collect my magic.

Was I really about to do this?

Did I even have a choice?

As my inner voice tossed around arguments in my mind, I succumbed to the decision I’d already made. My heart was heavy with the bittersweet awareness that I had surrendered a piece of my soul to the sea witch’s enchantment. But in doing so, I had truly freed Marissa.

So, I did the only thing I could do—I opened my mouth and sang.

The magic twisting around the shell shot forward and wrapped around my throat like a noose. Instinctively, I reached up to defend myself, but my hands passed through the green swirls like they weren’t even there.

As I sang, they dove into my mouth and down my throat, reaching for my magic. I gasped at the feeling, which was unpleasant but didn’t cause me to gag.

"Keep singing!" the witch demanded, her eyes narrowed with excitement.

The invading tendrils wrapped around the core of my magic deep within me and tightened. If I’d thought heartbreak was painful, it was nothing compared to this. Every fiber of my being screamed out in agony and utter wrongness as the tendrils tugged my magic free and retreated through my open mouth.

The moment they left my body, I sagged, too exhausted to continue singing. I hovered in the dark water, my once vibrant purple scales now dull and muted. An emptiness resonated within me as the realization settled in—I had given away more than just a piece of my soul.

As I tried to summon the power to grasp the once-familiar currents, they slipped through my fingers like elusive memories. The ebb and flow of the tides, once responsive to my every thought, felt indifferent, as if losing my magic had severed my connection to the sea.

My magic had been an extension of my identity. Where I had once enjoyed creating a beautiful symphony with the natural forces of the sea, now I floated as a mere observer. I was no longer a participant in the ocean’s wonders.

And that realization hurt so much more than I ever thought it would.

The green tendrils sucked my magic into the conch shell, which glowed pink as my magic swirled within it, trapped. The contract I’d signed earlier appeared in a puff of green. With a snap of the witch’s fingers, the paper splintered into hundreds of pieces that drifted into the shell.

Calypso stroked the shell and smiled. "At last."

At last? I opened my mouth to ask her what she meant, but no sound came out. Trying again, I released nothing but a bubble, and my eyes widened. I wrapped my hands around my throat as true terror set in.

"Yes, child, no siren song means no magic and no voice. Period." She smirked as I met her amused gaze. "You should always read the fine print, you know. Ah well, lesson learned."

Ice crystallized within my veins as I realized how thoroughly I’d been deceived. I had known she was cunning, but I had grossly underestimated the depths to which she’d descend in her greed.

The melodies I had woven into the ocean, the laughter shared with my sister, the simple notes hummed during solitary moments—all of it had been silenced…

…forever.