Page 18 of Storm and Sea (Storm and Sea Saga #1)

N yel wanted to talk to his brother, but Nephi was like a shadow—there one moment and gone the next. Anytime Nyel tried to get close, the figure hovered at the edges of his vision before vanishing. Days would often pass without a single glimpse of his half-brother. Yet inevitably, Nephi would slink back into the periphery, like a stray alley cat—always lurking, unseen but ever-present.

“I just want to talk,” Nyel grumbled after another failed attempt to catch his brother, watching the hooded figure dart around a shop and vanish.

It was obvious that Nephi wasn’t going to make this easy. Maybe he didn’t want a relationship with Nyel. Maybe there were too many years of damage. Too much pain to overcome.

That won’t stop me from trying, Nyel thought with determination as he watched Atreus and Leo return to the docks while he remained at the sorting tables.

Nyel didn’t mind the slimy work, and he’d finally stopped needing to stuff newspaper up his nose. But he couldn’t help the longing in his chest as he watched Leo and Atreus descend the hill and pad toward the floating docks, where fishermen waited for fresh bait or to unload a catch. Atreus was barefoot as always, which Nyel thought was risky—one stray splash could trigger Marvassa . But he trusted Atreus knew what he was doing; he’d been doing it all his life, after all.

Leo was helping at the docks today rather than fishing himself. Nyel sensed he was eager to get away from the nets for a while, and watching him simultaneously work and joke around with Atreus solidified his suspicions.

From his vantage point, Nyel watched as Atreus nudged Leo with his elbow, almost sending him toppling into the water.

“Watch it!” Leo barked, stumbling but catching himself on a wooden post. “If you weren’t such a Gatto I’d shove you in just for that.”

Nyel’s shoulders stiffened at the playful yet detrimental threat. But Atreus didn’t appear concerned.

“You know the rule,” was all he said with a good-natured smile as they lifted a heavier crate of bait together.

“Yeah, yeah. You’ve only reminded me a million times. My pinky still remembers.” Leo said, but rather than being angry at the memory of his broken finger, he smiled fondly.

Atreus told Nyel that early in their friendship, he’d set the foundation of his ‘water phobia,’ earning himself the nickname Gatto . But Leo liked to push his limits, especially when they were young, and had tried dunking Atreus in the fountain despite the warning. Long story short, Atreus came out of the altercation perfectly dry, while Leo ended up with his head in the fountain and his pinky finger snapped in two.

Safe to say they’d settled on a healthy understanding after that. Atreus was Gatto - which meant no water.

Still, watching him and Leo shove at each other on the ever-shifting planks of wood made Nyel’s stomach twist with worry. With the tolling bells of the boats now far in the bay, Nyel could hear the pair’s conversation.

“Ugh, I hate low tide. Always brings that nasty smell.” Leo said, scrunching his nose.

“I don’t mind,” Atreus said, organizing a pile of buoys and fishing line.

“Don’t mind, huh? But wait till you get a whiff of this,” Leo said, pulling off his shirt and throwing the sweaty cotton with the proficiency of a fisherman casting line. It smacked Atreus square in the face.

“What the f—Leo!” Atreus barked, peeling the cloth off him like it was toxic. “That smells like it’s been marinating in bait and regret.”

“Regret? That’s the smell of a hardworking man,” Leo shot back with a grin.

Atreus shook his head and tossed the shirt to Leo with far less enthusiasm. Both of them looked up when Nyel broke into a fit of laughter. Leo waved, and Nyel waved back, but when his eyes met Atreus’s, the other Mer quickly averted his gaze, pretending to fuss with the already neatly stacked ropes.

Nyel returned to his work, though his mind strayed from sorting sardines. Occasionally, he glanced up, watching the pair deep in conversation.

Leo hadn’t put his cotton tee back on. He was lean, narrower in the shoulders, but Nyel knew his frame was deceptive—his muscles honed from years of hard labor. His sun-kissed skin was smooth, not a freckle in sight, with only the faintest tan line suggesting he spent most of his hours on the boat without a shirt. Nyel wondered if Atreus might follow Leo’s example and remove his. It was a hot day, after all—it wouldn’t be unusual.

Flashes of their night on the beach surfaced in his mind: Atreus, with his finest button-up reduced to rags, draped over his torso. Even in the dim light, Nyel would’ve had to be blind not to notice the sculpted ridges of Atreus’s body. Each muscle was perfectly toned, balanced against his broad shoulders. Freckles dusted his skin like the starry sky they stood beneath. Nyel found himself wondering just how far they went. Did they… go all the way down?

“You need to come with me.”

“Sharks!” Nyel yelped, jumping and sending a tray of sardines clattering to the ground. He scrambled like someone caught doing something indecent, though there was no way his brooding half-brother could read his thoughts. Still, the evidence was plain as day, glowing red on Nyel’s face as he struggled to gather the slippery fish.

“Spirits, Nephi! What was that for? Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“You need to come home,” Nephi said, another stolen jacket covering his scars.

“What are you—? I’ve been trying to talk to you for days, and now you decide to?—”

“It’s your aunt. The baby is coming.”

Panic seized Nyel’s stomach. Had he been gone that long? How had so much time passed so quickly? On the heels of panic came guilt. He hadn’t thought about his aunt nearly enough in the passing weeks—Sonia, who was always on his side.

“Ny, what’s going on?” Atreus jogged up, his eyebrows pinched.

“I have to go,” Nyel said, spinning around, only to find Nephi already gone.

“Going? Going where?”

“I have to go home. My aunt, she’s— I promised I’d be there,” he said, every second ticking like a bomb.

The docks were unusually busy this morning. The fishermen were eager to get on the water, yelling for bait and supplies. But he couldn’t stay.

“I’m sorry,” Nyel said and darted in the direction of the beach.

“Ny, wait!”

Atreus followed him, and somewhere in the distance, he faintly caught Leo’s voice calling, “ Gatto , what are you doing?”

But Leo was far behind now.

Nyel had to get to the beach.

He had to get home.

Nyel scarcely checked the beach to ensure he was alone before diving into the waves. A second later, Atreus was beside him, dark blue and purple scales matching his pace with a few easy strokes of his barbed tail.

“Ny, what’re you doing?” he asked but didn’t try to stop him.

“My aunt is having a baby. I promised her I’d be there.”

Corallina was a shorter swim than he remembered, and Atreus followed Nyel to the outskirts of the village. They reached the landing of the sand-hut home, gills fluttering for breath. Nephi beat them there; his red fins flared with irritation.

“Took you long enough. From the sounds of it, you’re right on time.”

Nyel heard it too. The labored cries of his aunt as she endured contractions. He pushed open the wooden door, nearly slamming his tail as it closed behind him.

“Sonia, Sonia, I’m here!” Nyel yelled.

A moment later, his father emerged from the back room, his eyes widening in alarm at the sight of his son. He looked older now, the years showing in the harsh lines around his mouth. How had so much changed in such a short time?

“Nyel?” he croaked.

“Yes, I’m here. Is Sonia okay? Is there anything I can do?”

“N-no. Your mother and a few other sirena have it handled. It shouldn’t be long now?—”

The water vibrated with the high-pitched wails of a babe. Tears brimmed in Nyel’s eyes. His tail drooped, and his shoulders fell. He’d made it.

“Can… can I?”

His father nodded, allowing Nyel to swim into the other room. Inside, Sonia lay under a shellweave blanket, her scales pale and her eyes bloodshot. But the smile on her face was more radiant than Nyel had ever seen.

“Sonia?”

She spotted him, and fresh tears broke free from her face. “Nyel. I knew you’d come.”

Nyel approached slowly, hardly noticing the two sirena and his mother busy with a small bundle on the other side of the room.

He took Sonia’s hand gently in his. “I promised I’d be here,” he said, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Sorry, I’m late.”

When his mother turned, she held a tiny bundle wrapped in a soft coral silk blanket. From one end, a short green tail peeked out, the tip still curled. Baby Mer were always born with their tails curled tightly from months spent in the womb—it would take several hours for the muscles to relax and straighten completely. The sight was a reminder of just how new this little life was.

His mother froze at the sight of him. “Nyel!? When did you?—?”

Nyel raised a hand, stopping her. “Later, Mom. I promise.”

Bianca looked like she wanted to get into it then and there, even with an infant in her arms. But she composed herself, gently handing the bundle to Sonia. His aunt took the swaddle, and more tears mixed with the water. Nyel peeked over her shoulder.

“She’s beautiful,” he said, admiring the plump face of his new cousin.

“She looks like him,” Sonia gasped, a sob catching in her throat. The babe in her arms didn’t share their jade hue but was the spitting image of her father, Nyel’s late uncle Santé. She resembled the other Sireni of the village, with moss-green tones around her eyes. The markings curved gracefully around her finless head, forming a pattern like a crown.

“What’s her name?”

“Sabella,” Sonia said, kissing her daughter’s head. “It’s what he wanted.”

Nyel squeezed her shoulder. “You’ve done an amazing job.”

She pressed her lips together, fighting off the lingering waves of grief. “He’s here. The Opikun would have brought him for this. I know it.”

Now Nyel had to fight off the sting in his eyes. “I think you’re right.” He kissed her gently on the forehead, hoping she could feel how loved she was.

He didn’t know if his uncle Santé was with them, but if anyone could sense his visiting soul, it would be his mate—bound by a Bond that transcended the planes of the living and the dead .

“Okay, Sonia, we need to get you cleaned up,” one of the sirena said. “Nyel, let’s leave it to the women, yes?”

Nyel nodded. “I’ll stay long enough to see you again,” he promised before joining his father in the main room. A few minutes later, his mother and the other sirena entered.

“She’s resting,” Bianca announced.

His mother thanked the other two women and closed the door behind them. And it was the three of them: Mother, Father, and Son.

“I know we have a lot to talk about,” Nyel began.

“You’re sure as sharks we do!” his mother bristled, her fins standing on end.

“Bianca, please. Sonia needs the quiet,” Donato said, urging his wife to calm down.

She lowered her voice, though the manic energy remained. “Start talking,” she hissed. But before Nyel could open his mouth, she cut him off: “Do you know how worried I’ve been? I swear I’ve aged a decade. Are we not enough? Was I such a terrible mother? Do you hate me so much you’d rather live with those land creatures?!” she said hysterically, her volume rising with each word.

Again, Donato placed a calming hand on her arm, quieting her.

Nyel waited patiently for his mother to finish, and when her words finally ran dry, he said softly, “I don’t hate you, Mom. I never did, and I never will.” He searched for the words he’d rehearsed a thousand times, but they evaded him. “I couldn’t go on the Tideway with Chel. I don’t love her, Mom.”

She huffed. “You didn’t even try.”

“It would never have worked. You never asked me what I wanted. Nobody even discussed it with me, and when everything started happening so fast I… I had to get away.”

“Well, forgive me for knowing what is best for my only son,” she whined. “And to think you’d go so far as to risk death to avoid your mother. I’m such a sea witch. ”

Nyel took a calming breath.

“Mom, that isn’t what I said. Don’t put words in my mouth. I didn’t plan on going to Baia Vita. It just happened. I met a Mer who’s been living with them for years. He showed me how to do it safely. I’ve started a life there, Mom, and I love it. I’m not leaving.”

For the first time in his life, his mother looked too shocked to speak and Nyel took the opportunity to continue.

“And there is another thing I need to say. But we need to invite in some Mer before I start. I’ll get them.”

Without waiting for permission, Nyel opened the door, letting himself outside, happy for the walls separating him and his parents for a moment. Like he’d suspected, Nephi and Atreus were nearby. Nephi sat with his usual bored expression, picking at his talons while Atreus scratched a very excited Ripple under the chin.

“He likes it right behind the antenna,” Nyel said, showing Atreus where. The sandwinder made a low groaning sound before kicking all three legs on his left side.

“I’ve never seen one,” Atreus said, mimicking Nyel’s movement, which caused the beast to roll over for belly rubs. “What is he?”

“He’s a sandwinder, and his name is Ripple. You can visit him anytime. He loves the attention.” Nyel said, knowing full well he was stalling.

The flat ends of the sandwinder’s antenna reached for Atreus and began running up and down his torso with unnerving dexterity.

“Uuh, what is it doing?” Atreus asked, frozen in place.

Nyel laughed. “It means he likes you. He’s getting a good look.”

“Isn’t that what the four eyes are supposed to do?”

“They’re virtually blind. He’s getting a good look through the electric signals in your body. That’s how he herds the fish, by sending invisible waves through the water and gathering the school. It leaves patterns in the sand when he does it, hence the name. ”

“I’m honored,” Atreus said as the pad of one appendage wiped over his face. “I think.”

“Ripple is a good boy,” Nyel said, patting a chunky webbed foot. “Sandwinders have been herding schools for the Sireni for generations. But there aren’t that many around anymore. We have the only one in all of Corallina.”

“That’s too bad,” Atreus said, pushing away an antenna that was starting to make its way up the leg of his shorts. “How is your aunt?”

“Good. I have a baby cousin. Her name is Sabella.”

“That’s amazing. Congratulations.”

Nyel looked to his half-brother, who did his best to pretend they weren’t there. He didn’t offer any congratulatory words.

“I need both of you to come with me. We… it’s time for a talk. It’s long overdue.”

At this, Nephi raised his head, his expression skeptical. “Really?” he asked sarcastically.

“Yes, really,” Nyel snapped, “I said I wanted to, and there is no better time than the present. C’mon.”

Nephi floated to him, looking about as happy as a molting shrimp.

“Why me?” Atreus asked, “Isn’t this between family?”

“That’s a stretch,” Nephi said but went quiet as Nyel shot him a look.

“You’re part of this, Atreus. You’re the one that showed me the world I want to live in. You’re also a halfling. And…” The words were heavy on his tongue. He forced them out anyway. “You’re important to me.”

“Guh, stop stalling, and let’s get this bullshit over with,” Nephi said, pushing Nyel to lead the way.

Nyel bit his lip as he took in the horrified expressions on his parents’ faces when Atreus and Nephi swam through the door .

“What? Forgot what I look like, Dad ,” Nephi snapped, accenting the last word with cruelty.

“What is the meaning of this?” Bianca’s posture was tense, like Nyel had allowed a Great White into their home.

“Mom, Dad, we need to talk. I’ve figured some things out—about us, about everything—and the truth is, we’ve been wrong.”

His parents said nothing as their gazes continued to dart between the three of them.

“Everything we’ve been told, or invented, about halflings is wrong.”

Nyel let that sink in, and he could have sworn he heard a muffled, “Oh shit, he actually said it,” from his half-brother.

“W-what do you mean dear?” Bianca asked.

“The rumors, the stories, all those nasty things Sireni say about halflings—it’s wrong, Mom. I don’t know when it started, but I know when it’s going to end. And it’s now.”

“What rumors, dear?” she asked innocently, eyes darting.

“Oh, don’t pretend,” Nephi cut. “Don’t pretend like you haven’t treated me like a bastard-born monster that might ruin your perfect life.”

Both Bianca and Donato flinched, and the room went still, the water going stagnant with razor-sharp tension.

“Well, what did you expect me to think?” she finally snapped, her voice shrill. “You come back every three or four years with nothing but scars. No explanation.”

“I don’t owe you a damn thing, let alone an explanation,” Nephi hissed.

“Mom, we never even tried to understand.” Nyel pleaded.

“Well, excuse me for trying to protect my family from all of this,” she gestured at Nephi— covered in burns.

“Alright. If all of this is your excuse, then what about him?” Nephi said, jerking his head towards Atreus .

“I don’t even know who that is,” Bianca retorted.

“This is Atreus. He’s the one I told you about,” Nyel said. “He’s the one that taught me how to live safely on Baia Vita. He’s my friend.”

For a moment, Bianca said nothing; then her eyes went wide as she gasped. “I remember you.”

The water shifted as Atreus’s tail swished behind him, nerves billowing.

“What do you mean you remember him?” Nyel asked, looking from Atreus to his mother. “Have you two met?”

The look on Atreus’s face made Nyel’s stomach churn, a nauseating wave of guilt washing over him. Despite being the largest in the room, his friend looked impossibly small—shrinking under the weight of something Nyel couldn’t fix.

“Atreus?” he asked, but his mother cut in.

“Oh, it was years ago. He came by while you were doing chores. Of course, I did the right thing and told him to go away, given what he is. I wasn’t about to let anything happen to my baby.”

“Is that true? We’ve met?” Nyel asked, appalled that he hadn’t remembered. That Atreus hadn’t told him.

“It was a long time ago,” Atreus said.

“So you threw your lot in with the humans? Well, I guess that’s about as good as you can hope for, given what you are,” Bianca commented off-handedly.

“What he is!?” Nyel shouted, rounding on his parents. “Do you even hear yourself? Atreus is kind and generous to a fault. He’s honorable and has worked himself to the bone to survive all because Corallina cast him out.” He lowered his voice, unable to keep it from shaking, “Because we cast him out.”

Nyel fell silent, grinding his teeth as tears of frustration spilled over. He wanted to bolt. To run away from all of this, just like he had with Chel all those weeks ago .

A webbed hand rested on his shoulder, and he met his brother’s gaze. Nephi gave him an encouraging squeeze, anchoring him in his conviction. And that small gesture was enough to push Nyel to continue.

It was the first time Nephi had ever been anything other than angry toward him, and that flicker of warmth from his cold, standoffish brother stoked a fire in Nyel’s chest.

Don’t stop now. Say it all.

“I met Atreus before I learned what he was. And when I found out, it took me about three seconds to realize we’d been wrong. There is nothing wrong with halflings. They aren’t sick, they aren’t mad, they’re just like us. Mer.”

“Son, they aren’t like us. Their blood is mixed,” his father said, speaking for the first time. “You’re young, and it’s easy to get swept up in the excitement. But mixing blood is dangerous. The Spirits have warned us of the Skraith ?—”

“HA!” Nephi burst. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you. And you think the punishment of mixing blood rests on the child’s shoulders? The child that had no choice?”

“I’m not saying what I did was right. But what’s done is done.”

“Yeah. I exist. Fucking whoops, right?” Nephi said, a hysterical edge in his tone.

“Nephi, stop.” Nyel placed a hand on his brother’s chest. “Let me do this.” Once again, Nyel was shocked to see his brother back down. He faced his father, more than a little disappointed by his reaction. “I don’t care what you think, Dad. I know that there is nothing wrong with halflings. They’re like us. End of story.”

Silence stretched in the small room, its weight like sinking stones. Finally, Bianca inhaled sharply.

“If you want to live like an outcast, there is nothing I can do. I tried so hard to make things better for you, to give you opportunities I never had. I wanted better for you,” Bianca huffed with frustration. “But I can see you’d rather spit in my face.”

“Mom, that’s not what?—”

“If that’s what you believe, fine,” she interrupted, her voice now trembling with the threat of tears. “I guess I have to live with the fact that my little boy is going to get all kinds of ideas in his head. If you’ve found some kind of life on human land, there’s nothing I can do to stop you. You’re an adult now,” she said, the regret in her voice unmistakable. “But I want you to know that every minute you’re in that landwalker den, I’ll be aging tenfold from worry. Who knows? Maybe when you finally manage to visit, I’ll already be in Thalaren .”

Nyel supposed that was about as good as he was going to get.

“Thank you, Mom,” he said, doing his best to ignore her masterful guilt-tripping.

“But you’ll visit us more often? Stay every once in a while?” she pleaded as though her acceptance could bind him back to her.

“I will make an effort to see you all more. Especially Sabella.”

“Good, good.” She rubbed her hands together uncomfortably. “And you two, seeing as you have taken care of my son all these weeks, I guess it’s safe to say you won’t hurt him now.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Nephi grumbled, then let out a stream of bubbles as Nyel elbowed him in the gut. “But no, I won’t hurt him. Pain in the ass or not, he’s my brother.”

It probably wasn’t healthy to feel such a wide range of emotions in such a short amount of time. Hearing Nephi call him his brother, not half-brother, was enough to make Nyel’s eyes sting for an entirely different reason.

“I would never. Even back then, all those years ago, I never wanted to hurt him,” Atreus said, his voice soft.

“Okay then. When Nyel comes for his very regular visits to us, both of you are also welcome.” She looked like she’d bitten into a spoiled sea prune as she said it, but she said it. And that was enough .

Donato was still visibly uncomfortable, and for a moment, Nyel worried he would raise his voice in protest. But as usual, he never challenged any of Bianca’s decisions.

“Well, if that’s it, I’m leaving,” Nephi said, swimming for the door. Their father reached out, almost touching his son’s burnt arm but stopping an inch short.

“I didn’t mean to say that you deserved the blame.”

Nyel watched with bated breath as Nephi stared down at Danoto as though their father were nothing more than slime.

“Yet you were the first to abandon me,” he hissed before darting out the door, his crimson fins flared so high they carved grooves in the ceiling.

Nyel approached his father. “He needs time, Dad. A lot of it.”

Donato nodded, though his expression seemed distant. When he spoke, his voice was low and weary. “The heaviest burden you’ll carry is regret—choices made in haste, without thought. If I can offer any wisdom, it’s this: follow tradition, do what’s expected, and don’t fight the will of the Spirits. Go against them, and you’ll find nothing but misery. When I was young, I didn’t listen; I was rebellious and overconfident. I met Nephi’s mother and?—”

“Don’t you dare speak of that sea witch in my home!” Bianca snapped loudly, arms crossed and looking pale in the face.

Nyel balked. He’d never heard his father string together so many words in one breath. Let alone those words. In all his life, he’d never once heard him mention Nephi’s mother. Who she was, and how Nephi came to be. But one thing was for certain. There was regret. And the reminder of that regret came in the form of Nephi. His own flesh and blood.

For the first time, Nyel felt the embers of anger flicker in his chest. He’d always brushed off his father’s Unbonded history, choosing not to dwell on it and giving him the benefit of the doubt. After all, his father had been a perfectly good dad to him, right? But now, watching this wrinkled sireno all but disown his own flesh and blood—refusing to accept the consequences of his actions—Nyel began to see a clearer picture of the man before him.

How could his father say such a thing? Sure, Nephi was flawed, but he was also a victim of circumstance. If he’d been offered the same love and acceptance Nyel had, things would have been different. Watching his father so blatantly deny his son only deepened Nyel’s understanding of Nephi’s rage.

One thing was for certain: Nyel would never regret calling Nephi his brother.

As though to remind him of his presence, Atreus gently brushed his tail against Nyel’s. Nyel tore his gaze from his father, too overwhelmed by the flood of emotions to come up with any more words. He needed to get out of here for a minute.

“I’m going to say bye to Sonia and Sabella. Meet me outside?” he said, offering Atreus an escape.

“Sure,” Atreus nodded, darting to the door, but not before exchanging a lingering look that sent Nyel’s already aching heart into a frenzy.

When Nyel entered Sonia’s room, he didn’t even open his mouth before she spoke.

“I heard.”

He sighed, the strain of the last hour making him feel like he was sinking into quicksand. “I know you’re going to tell me it’s dangerous and that?—”

“Nyel honey, hush,” she said with a tired smile. “Oh, hush. You don’t know a thing. Am I worried you’re spending time on a human island? Yes. A hundred times, yes. But do I have confidence that you’ve worked things out? Also, yes.”

Nyel let a tired grin take over his face. “Atreus has really helped me. He’s been living with them for years. ”

“He sounds sensible. I hope the next time you come to see us, you’ll tell me more about him?”

“I will. And you’re okay that he’s a…”

“Halfling,” she finished for him. “That doesn’t bother me, Nyel.”

“It’s just that, when Nephi arrived, and Uncle Santé—” he trailed off, unable to finish.

“Nyel, I don’t believe Nephi’s arrival had anything to do with my mate’s passing. Skraith or no.” Her voice was firm. But the stiff set of her jaw made Nyel question the truthfulness of her words. Still, she was standing by him, and that was enough.

“Okay,” was all he could manage.

“Nyel?” she said, her face softening.

“Huh?”

“I’m proud of you.”

This time, he couldn’t hold back the sting in his eyes. He wiped at them, feeling utterly drained. He didn’t know if they were tears of joy or exhaustion.

It turned out his mother wasn’t ready to let go of him yet, and after much back-and-forth, Nyel agreed to stay for a couple of days and help with the baby.

“You sure?” Atreus asked outside the sand hut. Nephi was already gone, and Nyel suspected that after all that, they wouldn’t be seeing him for a while.

“Yeah, just for a while. I think Sonia needs someone to talk to who isn’t my mom.”

“Right.” Atreus stared at his webbed toes, kicking them idly in the sand .

“What is it?” Nyel asked, though Atreus wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“I didn’t know it was like that. I knew you had a family, but I wasn’t expecting…”

“It’s not all sugar and sea prunes,” Nyel said dryly.

“You could put it like that,” Atreus replied, his tone softening. “I’m sorry I misjudged you before.”

“When you assumed I was a spoiled brat running from a perfect life?” Nyel asked, knowing exactly what Atreus had thought of him.

“Well. Yeah. Sorry, Ny.”

“It’s complicated. But they’re my family. And I’ve got a baby cousin and an aunt that need me for a while.”

“Understood. But before I go, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure,” Nyel said.

“Back there, your mom said something.”

“Yeah?” Nyel stretched the word, waiting for it like an oncoming punch.

“What is Thalaren ?”

It was so unexpected that a flurry of bubbles escaped his gills as Nyel laughed.

“That’s so random. How do you not know—” he stopped mid-sentence. “Sorry. I shouldn’t laugh. I forget sometimes that you don’t know these things. Just because I’ve known about it since birth doesn’t mean...well, I shouldn’t assume. Sorry. You probably felt the same way when I asked about the refrigerator.”

“It wouldn’t have been so annoying if you didn’t keep opening and closing the damn thing.”

“I needed to know if the light stayed on after it was closed!” Nyel defended through a grin. “But to answer your question, Thalaren is,” he chewed on the words. “I guess it’s a place?” he said, like a question. “It’s where our souls go when we, you know, die.”

“Oh,” Atreus said with a raised brow. “The context makes more sense now. ”

“Yeah. Mom likes to bring up her impending departure to Thalaren anytime I do something she doesn’t like.”

“Humans have a word for that. But I don’t think it’s a belief they practice a lot on Baia Vita.”

“Neither do we,” Nyel said, shrugging. “It’s just something we say. Like calling to the Spirits. You know?”

Yet, as the words left his mouth, they felt wrong. Back in the house, his father had been more pious than Nyel had ever thought him to be.

Atreus shook his head. “I really don’t, but I’ll take your word for it.”

They floated there, the silence thick with the weight of words both wanted to say but couldn’t. Atreus’s presence was like an anchor, tethering Nyel and keeping him from drifting off course. He didn’t want him to go.

“Ny?”

“Yes?” Nyel said too quickly, perking up.

“If you aren’t back in two days, I’m coming to get you.”

Something about the way he said it made Nyel’s heart thud heavier. “You will?”

“Yes. You don’t belong here, Ny. You belong in Baia Vita with—” Atreus hesitated. “With all of us,” he finished.

A small wave of disappointment rippled through Nyel’s chest. “Yeah. Thanks. I’ll be back,” Nyel promised.

“Nyel!” his mother’s shrill voice cut through the water.

“I better get to that before she comes to get me,” Nyel said, wanting to spare Atreus from another heavy interaction.

“Don’t be too long,” Atreus said with a parting wave.

“I won’t be.”

As Nyel settled into his old bed for the night, his mind replayed their final exchange on a loop—replayed it with the words he’d wanted to hear.

You belong in Baia Vita with me.

The next morning, Nyel was shocked to see Sonia upright with baby Sabella asleep in her arms.

“Should you be swimming around like that?” Nyel asked with concern.

“We, sirena are made of tougher stuff than you males,” she said with a wink, handing him the babe. “Hold her for a second, will you? I want to help with dinner.”

Nyel held his baby cousin; her squishy face contorted in an irritable expression. Dark, mossy green scales bordered her eyes before cresting onto her forehead like a crown. The fins on her head would come in when she turned two, and the rounded crest on her tail wouldn’t develop until she was closer to his age.

“Hey there, baby girl. I’m your cousin,” he said, gently bouncing her in his arms. A tiny hand reached out, wrapping around his finger, and in that moment, he was a goner. This precious new life had him in a chokehold, and he knew there was no going back. Sabella fussed, and he pulled her close, remembering that Mer infants needed tight, enclosed spaces, especially before their eyes opened. She settled and resumed snoozing in his hold. He couldn’t wait for her eyes to open and see him, but that was still at least a week away.

Voices from the main room had Nyel swimming over to investigate. His entire body stiffened when, in the room, floated none other than Chel.

Immediately, Nyel’s angry gaze darted to his mother.

“Are you serious right now?” he hissed in a heated whisper, trying not to wake Sabella .

“Nyel, calm yourself,” Bianca said with an eye roll. “Mr. Ernesti came to talk with your father, and Chel wanted to see you.”

He wouldn’t put it past his mother to arrange another ‘courting dinner’ the day he came home, but that didn’t appear to be the case, and he relaxed.

“Right. Sorry.” Nyel said more to Chel.

“While your fathers are talking, why don’t you two take a second to catch up? Here, give her to me,” Bianca said, taking Sabella from his arms and practically shoving them out the door.

Nyel sighed loudly, a stream of bubbles tickling his gills. “Chel, I’m?—”

“It’s okay, Nyel,” she interrupted, her voice soft as a passing tide.

“Is it, though? The last time I saw you, I busted out of the house like a rogue barracuda and left you alone with our parents.”

She smiled sadly. “Yeah. That sucked.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.”

They swam to the goatfish pen, watching Ripple patrol around the school, his antenna working to keep the fish in line.

“It did hurt my feelings. We’ve always been good friends, but a part of me still hoped it would lead to something more one day.”

Nyel glued his gaze to the collection of fire coral climbing the side of the house. Someone had broken the branches off several of the poor creatures. He analyzed them, unable to look at her.

“After that day, I realized that’s all we were. Friends, and that’s okay, Nyel.”

“Really? Because I’m pretty sure, according to my mother, it’s a sin.”

She laughed. “No, it’s not. Sure, I cried a little, but I’m glad we can still talk like this. I’m glad we’re still friends.”

She reached for her tail and twisted in a cutely nervous gesture. Nyel laughed internally as he pictured a human running their fingers together. It was the same motion, yet so different .

“I’m glad we’re still friends too. I wasn’t sure,” he confessed.

“Of course we are, silly. But I never realized how much pressure you were under. I should have seen it sooner.”

“Doesn’t make it right. What I did. I’m sorry, Chel.”

“Apology accepted. Plus, it all worked out. I’ve been seeing Wyll.”

“Wyll? From the farm on the north side?”

“That’s the one. It’s been going really well.”

“Chel, that’s amazing. Wyll is a good guy. He comes from a good family. I’m sure he will make you happy.”

The mention of Wyll brought a flood of familiar images to Nyel’s mind. Wyll’s family was known across the region for their pristine oarweed fields, cultivated with care and precision for generations. They were hardworking, close-knit, and fiercely loyal to each other. If Chel was looking for stability and kindness, she couldn’t have chosen better.

“I think so, too,” she said, blushing. “And that’s why what happened is okay. We wouldn’t have made each other happy.”

It hurt to hear her say it, but it was true. It would have been a match made out of obligation and tradition, not love. And a Bond? Nyel doubted one could have ever taken hold between them—not when he didn’t love her.

“Have you—you know—with Wyll?” he asked awkwardly.

She shook her head, long green fins swaying. “No, not yet. But it’s been going so well. I’m sure a Bond will click any day now. It’s just a feeling I get.”

Nyel reached for her hand, giving it a single quick squeeze. “That’s awesome Chel. Wyll’s a lucky sireno .”

They swam around the cage, rounding the back of the house, when they spotted both their fathers talking. Nyel couldn’t hear what they were saying, but both wore concerned, heavy expressions. Their tones were urgent, mouths moving fast as though time were running out .

“What is that about?”

“You haven’t heard?” She shook her head. “Of course you haven’t. You’ve been on the land. Which is crazy, by the way, but I’m not here to lecture you on that.”

“So what’s going on?”

“The kelp is dying.”

Nyel gawked at her, positive he heard her wrong. “What do you mean it’s dying? We’re in the middle of growing season; it should be booming.”

Chel’s shoulders sagged, and he noticed for the first time her wavegrass dress hung loose around her frame.

“The kelp is getting sick.”

“A pest?” Nyel asked, immediately wondering if it was something the goatfish could eradicate.

“We thought so. Your family’s school has been working overtime, going from farm to farm, trying to fix this. But nothing is working. My dad says it’s not a pest. It’s the water.”

“Water?”

“Those human ships. When they pass, they leave behind something. Like a black cloud, it dissipates in the water. It’s killing our kelp. It is not just ours; all the farms are losing crops by the day. People are getting sick, too. Nobody’s died yet, but…”

Nyel couldn’t believe this. He knew the ships were a nuisance—their giant propellers creating noise that carried for leagues. But this? This was an epidemic.

“What is Corallina doing?”

“What can we do? We’re trying our best to stop it. Some of the farms are resorting to harvesting early, even though the kelp isn’t ready, just to preserve some food.”

Nyel cringed. Unripened kelp was bitter and caused painful stomach aches and nausea—something he knew all too well from the time he’d eaten a leaf on a dare .

“Have there been shortages?”

“A little. Right now, we’re worried about feeding ourselves, let alone the other villages that depend on us. It’s about to get a lot worse. And winter isn’t even here yet. Some families are talking about leaving the bay.”

Nyel’s heart sank. Sireni were not deep ocean dwellers. Their kind, from the beginning of forever, had always lived in the abundant, warm, shallow waters where the rays of the sun reached the sand. In deeper seas? Open waters?

“They won’t make it. If they leave, they’ll either starve or be picked off by predators.”

“What choice do they have?”

Before he could argue, Donato clapped Mr. Ernesti on the shoulder and exchanged parting words.

“I better go. We’re going to harvest early, too. It’ll taste vile, but food is food.” Her shoulders fell miserably as she said it. Nyel hugged her before watching her and Mr. Ernesti disappear into the blue waters.

The ships were killing his people. Killing his village. And there was nothing they could do to stop it. Nyel realized with a desperate ache in his heart that he might lose both the places he’d learned to call home.