Page 27 of Storm and Sea (Storm and Sea Saga #1)

I t shouldn’t have been that easy. It shouldn’t have felt so seamless. Yet it was as if Baia Vita had been waiting for them—for the Mer—welcoming them like an old friend with open arms.

The island breathed.

It thrummed with life, and Atreus felt its heartbeat through the soles of his bare feet as he walked the cobblestone streets. Differences melted away, dismissed as effortlessly as if they were no more significant than a preference for one color over another.

It was more than he ever imagined.

More than he ever dreamed.

Because Atreus never dared allow himself to have a dream like this.

The fishing season was extended, and in less than a week, their yield tripled. No—quadrupled. Boats overflowed, nearly capsizing from the weight. Giovanni had to hire a few more young men to help unload the docks that were now buzzing with laughter. Atreus even caught a few overwhelmed tears from the sea-hardened men.

Non-local shops were swiftly boycotted, and within two weeks, many were boarded up. The stores were re-sold, lovingly restored to their original state, and placed back into the hands of islanders who cherished them. Mayor Gianfranchi even complained (with an ear-splitting smile) that he’d never been so busy. At this rate, the ships that marred their horizon would be gone. And the bay would become theirs once more.

The Sireni of Corallina had outdone themselves. Nyel told Atreus that nearly half their population had dedicated themselves to herding the fish away from the ships and into the bay. With the Mer openly roaming the island, they witnessed the direct impact of their actions as mainland stores shut their doors. Soon, Corallina’s crops would be safe from pollution.

And they all celebrated.

The people of Baia Vita were eager to show their gratitude, offering the Mer food wherever they went—bowls of pasta, fresh fruits and vegetables, and countless pastries. Nyel’s love of sugar was clearly not unique, as the Sireni devoured the sweets with delight, their hunger finally eased.

It was a time for joy. For rejuvenation and renewal. A time to reclaim what was theirs.

So why did Atreus feel so damn miserable?

He hefted an overflowing crate of mackerel until the wood splintered with a sharp crack. Fish spilled onto the cobblestones in a slick cascade, and the gulls were on them in an instant, shrieking and snatching the slimy bodies.

Atreus grinned. Usually, he would have been scolded for losing the fish. But they were so plentiful now that he even caught a few fishermen offering the gulls free meals.

“The sea birds are part of the island’s spirit,” they said with a sort of reverence that Atreus hadn’t seen in years.

Yet, as the boats returned to dock for the day, Atreus found himself wishing he could persuade the sun to stay in the sky just a little longer.

“You’re going to miss my excellent espresso,” Marina said over the dinner table.

“My mornings are ruined without them,” Atreus replied sarcastically.

“You’ll live.” She flipped her hair with a flourish. “And Nyel will get them all winter!”

“Yep, sure will,” Nyel said, then leaned over to whisper, “Along with the singing.”

Atreus must have been more downtrodden than he thought, for that only to encourage a mild grin from him. Nyel noticed and bumped their knees under the table.

“Hey, you okay?” he whispered.

“Oh yeah, sorry, long day,” he lied, shoving more salmon into his mouth.

Their conversation went unnoticed because of Horace’s animated storytelling, which would have been better appreciated in the theater. They’d tried to be gentle when telling Horace the truth, not wanting to excite the old man too much. But when Atreus dipped his hand into the kitchen sink, the old man shot to his feet with a shout.

“I KNEW IT! ”

They’d laughed for hours, and Atreus spent the remainder of the night drying his hand with a towel and rewetting it a dozen times.

“Scales blue as the open sea,” Horace mumbled, daring to touch Atreus’s wrist. “Though not as dark as Kirill’s.”

After that, the old man aged backward by the day. Each morning, he sat in his chair outside and watched the Mer come and go through town. He’d even gotten into the habit of randomly stopping people and asking if they would dip their hands in the fountain for him. Every time he asked an actual Sireni , they smiled and obliged.

His stories (though they’d listened to them a thousand times) were filled in with even wilder details than before, and he told them as though they’d happened yesterday. Nobody stopped him. And nobody told him the stories of his dear friend Kirill were fables.

Because they weren’t.

And he’d known all along.

After helping with the dishes, something he’d never been able to do before, Atreus made his way to bed, settling in for what would be another sleepless night. His head barely hit the pillow when a voice called from the open door.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Nyel asked, stepping inside.

Atreus took a steadying breath. “Sure, what’s up?” He sounded tight, even to his own ears.

Nyel shifted from one foot to another. “You aren’t mad, are you?”

“No,” he replied quickly—and it was the truth. He wasn’t mad at Nyel or his decision to leave. In fact, Atreus was happy for him.

But the pit in his stomach had only sunk lower with each passing day. And tonight was the last night. Tomorrow, the final morning.

He had no idea what to do with the feelings churning in his chest. So, instead, he reassured Nyel with a playful kick to the shin.

“I’m not mad.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. ”

He wanted to say more. And the way Nyel lingered suggested he wanted to as well. Yet they stood awkwardly, the silence stretching between them, neither willing to break it.

“Well, if that’s all, I’m gonna head to bed. Early start tomorrow.”

Nyel dropped his head. “Yeah.”

“Yeeeaaaah.” Atreus stretched. “Night then.”

“Night.”

As Nyel turned to leave, Atreus watched him go, his gaze tracing the elegant lines of his slender frame. For a fleeting second, he was half-tempted to invite Nyel to stay—to spend their last night together in his room, just to bask in the sireno’s presence a little longer. But the words never came.

Hours later, Atreus lay wide awake, staring at the cobwebs on the ceiling. His mind churned with thoughts of what he could have said—what he wanted to say. By morning, it would be his last chance.

“See the lengths he goes

through to be rid of you?”

Atreus squeezed his eyes shut, desperate for sleep to silence the voice gnawing at him from the inside out.

“Ready to leave it all behind

just to escape you.

You’re nothing but a burden to him.”

“I tried not to be,” Atreus whispered.

“He got what he wanted;

he doesn’t need you anymore. ”

“That’s not true. He’ll come back.”

“What if he’s already planned

a life without you?

What if tomorrow is the

start of his forever… far away from you?”

Atreus curled in on himself, bracing against the voice’s words all through the long hours of the night.

“Don’t miss me too much, Atty!” Marina gave him a disproportionately strong hug for her short frame.

“I’ll cry into my pillow every night you’re away.”

“Awww, big brother, I love you too,” she said, patting his cheek with a slap and skipping onto the barge’s deck. “See you on board, Nyel.”

This was it. They were going. Marina was going to finish her final semester of school. Nyel would learn how to read and write and do science and all sorts of things he couldn’t do here.

Couldn’t do with Atreus.

It was only for one semester, and deep down, Atreus realized that wasn’t a lot of time. But he’d seen things change on Baia Vita in a matter of hours. What would all winter do to Nyel?

“Good luck, ragazzo ,” Giovanni said, laying a knee-buckling hand on Nyel’s shoulder. “I’ll leave you boys to it then.”

As Giovanni walked away, Atreus suddenly felt the platform grow colder. It was just the two of them now. His throat tightened, and for a fleeting moment, he was tempted to follow Giovanni without saying another word. To let the goodbye slip past him, unsaid.

“Well, I’m going,” Nyel said, clutching his bag in front of him.

“You’ll do great.” Atreus’s words felt hollow even to his own ears. “Don’t forget about us while you’re in the big city.”

“You know I can’t do that. Keep yourself busy, Atreus. Don’t get in your head,” Nyel said, then with a grin, suggested, “teach Niccolo how to fetch or something.”

“Ha. As if that cat will ever do anything he doesn’t already want to. And for the record, cats don’t fetch.”

“I saw the neighbor’s dog do it,” Nyel countered.

“That’s a dog. Dogs and cats are different.”

“Oh, right. Maybe dogs will like me more?”

“Maybe,” Atreus said, wondering if dogs would like Nyel better than cats. Niccolo always hissed when Nyel was around. Maybe it’s because they smelled similar to fish?—

—and were they really discussing the merits of cats versus dogs right now!? Of all the things to say, this was how they were spending their last moments? Atreus’s chest seized. Is this really what he wanted Nyel to remember when he left?

He must have taken too long to respond because Nyel shifted awkwardly. “I better go, or the captain will leave without me. I’ll see you in a few months.”

Nyel turned toward the vessel, and panic surged through Atreus. Before he could think, his hand shot out, grabbing Nyel’s wrist.

“I would have let him drown!” he shouted, unable to control the volume as the words tumbled out of him.

“W-what?” Nyel asked, eyebrows pinched.

“Edgar. During the Bayallon. When he went over, when I got to the railing I…. I hesitated. Then I saw you and—” He squeezed Nyel’s wrist tighter. “I just knew. ”

Nyel stepped closer, the barge forgotten. “Knew what?” he asked, his voice soft, like coaxing a secret to the surface.

“I knew I had to save him, and I knew that everything would be okay. Even after I changed and everyone saw me for what I was…it would be okay. Even if the humans hated me and rejected what I am… I’d be okay.” He slid his hand from Nyel’s wrist and intertwined their fingers. “Because I’d still have you.”

Nyel’s thin, delicate fingers laced with his, grounding Atreus in a way words never could.

“I would have let him drown. I wouldn’t have been brave enough to jump. Not without you. So… thank you.”

The weight of those two simple words paled in comparison to the gratitude swelling in Atreus’s heart. He knew Giovanni felt it, too. So did all of Baia Vita. The island was crawling out of its grave, alive with new purpose—all because of this sireno .

Nyel’s gaze softened, and he squeezed Atreus’s hand.

“I wasn’t the one that saved Edgar, Atreus. In the end, you were the one that jumped, and it takes an incredibly brave person to do that.”

The warmth of those words filled Atreus’s chest, only to be cut short by a slap on his shoulder.

“Brave and stupid!” Nyel forced a glare but couldn’t hide the smile hidden beneath. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

“No promises,” Atreus replied with a chuckle, then hesitated. “But… can you promise me one thing?”

“What?”

“Write to me?” Heat rushed to his cheeks as the words came out. “Giovanni can read to me, and he’ll help me write back and stuff. I just… I want to know you’re okay.”

Nyel’s grip on his hand tightened. “I will. Promise.”

Atreus nodded jerkily. “Okay then.”

“Okay. ”

The bellow of the ship’s horn cut through the moment, announcing its departure.

“I better go,” Nyel said. “See you in a few months.”

He pulled away, his fingers slipping from Atreus’s grasp. Just as they were about to leave his touch, Atreus caught them again, yanking him back.

Don’t go. Don’t go. Don’t go.

Atreus couldn’t breathe. Panic flared, paralyzing his lungs and holding his eyes wide open, as if blinking would make Nyel disappear forever.

The sireno glanced at his trapped fingertips.

“I’m coming back, Atreus. You know that, right?” Nyel said softly.

Atreus swallowed hard. He didn’t know it. He didn’t know anything. Everything was changing so damn fast he?—

In one fluid motion, Nyel closed the distance between them, stood on tiptoe, and kissed Atreus’s cheek. All racing thoughts stopped dead at the press of soft lips on his skin.

“I’m coming back, Atreus. I promise.”

This time, as Nyel leaped from the dock onto the moving barge, Atreus let him go. His hand fell to his side as he watched the sireno disappear onto the ship.

He waved as the barge grew smaller in the distance.

A farewell. Not a goodbye.

Because their story was only just beginning.