Page 1

CHAPTER ONE

When Celeste’s head breached the surface of the water, the ringing stopped. She took a gasping breath, filling her lungs with salt air. It was the first deep breath she’d taken in weeks. In fact, it was the only breath she’d taken in weeks. For sirens had no need for deep breaths. Their gills ensured they never needed to surface. Furthermore, in the Kingdom of Staria, breaching the surface was strictly forbidden.

Unfortunately, the surface was where the young princess felt most at peace.

Celeste laid back into the water, letting her body bob up and down in the space where the air and water met. A wide grin grew upon her lips, and she closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of the air kissing her wet skin. The nothing of it all. Dawn approached above her, its first embers glittering on the sea’s horizon. Here she no longer heard the echoes of her argument with her mother ringing in her ears. The argument that had been building for the past cycle.

The argument about her initiation.

In four phases of the moon, Celeste was to complete her final test to be inducted into the ranks of the Chorus. A distinction her mother, the queen, did not think she was ready for despite it being the very thing she’d been training to achieve. It had been such an honor to become an initiate. When Celeste began training at thirteen cycles, her parents were so proud. She hadn’t even expected them to approve. But they surprised her. Deciding it was the perfect opportunity for their youngest daughter to learn to control her Voice. To learn discipline. Structure. Respect for the rules of Staria. It was all her father talked to her about for the next month. In fact, it was one of the only things her father ever did talk to her about.

Celeste drew her tail of silvery blue through the water, wondering why breaching the surface was forbidden in the first place. She had never seen anything out of the ordinary. Her kingdom’s waters were so far removed from shore that no creature born of land could survive. Not even human trade routes traveled so far. And if the rare ship ever did journey into siren waters, the Chorus ensured no threats remained.

A splash sounded to her left, and Celeste bolted upright, scanning the waves. It was only a fish jumping through the swells. Not a Chorus scout, the only sirens occasionally permitted to surface and who worked in pairs. Although Celeste was certain the scouts patrolled seas further east, she remained vigilant. If she were caught above, she’d be stripped of her rank. The one thing she had ever truly earned. Her only hope to make her parents proud. She’d be restricted to the palace or shipped off to another kingdom for marriage, like her sister Sephone, who departed five cycles ago.

Celeste could practically hear Sephone’s voice in her head, ever the voice of reason. Come on, little star. It’s not worth the risk . But Sephone hadn’t been around to talk her baby sister out of things for quite some time. Not since Celeste was twelve cycles old. A pang of longing filled Celeste’s chest, as it always did when she thought of her sister.

But I know what I’m doing , she assured herself. Celeste wasn’t a fool. She never surfaced far from home and never stayed out too long. Besides, she’d needed this. Needed to get away from the palace. From her mother. She’d almost lost control again.

But as Celeste scanned the sky, drinking in the vivid strokes of sunrise, her eye caught on something. A shadow, hardly discernible along the northwest horizon.

She froze, eyes widening. It was much too large to be a scouting pair. Swim home , Sephone insisted in her head. Stay safe . But Celeste could not move. She’d never seen anything on the surface before. And wasn’t it her duty as a future Chorus member to investigate? Celeste chewed at the inside of her cheek. The excuse sounded weak even to her own ears. But still...

With the grace of a predator, Celeste swam toward the shadow. Though she was nowhere near the deadliest predator in the sea, she’d been trained in combat. Even the choppy surface water didn’t slow her, despite how foreign it felt. Far below, where she lived, the sea was calm, constant. Here the water was always changing. A threat. A challenge.

At half the distance, Celeste fell still, not daring to swim closer despite her curiosity screaming to keep going. Surely she was close enough to make out what the shadow was, but far enough to avoid detection. There were countless dangers the shadow could be. She emerged, her crystal eyes finding the pall almost immediately. It looked like... a ship . Instinctively, she sank back into the water, heart shuddering. Whether from panic or something else entirely, she could not tell.

There was a ship in Staria’s waters. A human ship.

Why? This vessel was farther south than any she’d heard of before. There was nothing out here for humans to explore. No countries. No islands. No land whatsoever. And yet, impossibly, there it was. Glimmering like a mirage against the dawn.

Go home! her sister’s voice demanded in her head. But Celeste remained, squinting to discern the shape of it. She’d seen sunken ships before. The decaying corpses of once great vessels that littered the ocean floor. Sirens often scavenged them for materials. But those were leagues away. Celeste would know. Foraging was the one activity that brought her outside the confines of the kingdom—not that she was allowed to do it often or without supervision. And with so few freedoms available to her, the hobby grew into an obsession in her youth. Every time Celeste heard a new ship had gone down nearby, she begged her sisters to take her to rifle through it first. They teased her, assuming she liked having first pick of the best things. But it wasn’t true. What Celeste liked most was seeing the ships before the ocean took them. To see them as the humans might have: whole and sturdy. Well, as whole and sturdy as a sunken ship at the bottom of the ocean could be. After she joined the Chorus initiates, those trips became few and far between.

But here one was. Celeste sighed. It was impossible to see any details from so far away. She could not glean the color of the sails or any significant markings. Every fiber of the princess yearned to draw closer. There would be real humans on board. What would it be like to see one up close? Were they as monstrous as all the stories said? When she was a child, her eldest sister, Shye, wove tales of their rows and rows of sharklike teeth. Teeth to rip out their victims’ throats. They had eyes the color of blood, clawed fingers as long as seaweed, and legs that ended in a second pair of hands . Celeste endured nightmares of endless hands for weeks after that.

But some cycles later, the young princess found a ship with a statue of a human on it. The statue’s mouth was closed, so she could not ascertain the shape of its teeth. But much to her disappointment, the fingers were the same as any siren’s. In fact, the human looked surprisingly similar to a siren. Except that just below the hips, where a tail should have been, the human had legs . And they were even more horrible than Shye had described them. Three times the width of an arm and nearly twice as long, legs looked disgusting to Celeste at first, but she supposed they had to use something to walk.

The ship was drawing closer, heading directly toward her. But as much as Celeste longed to see the humans for herself, she couldn’t. The punishment for being seen by a human was banishment. Not only was that a death sentence for a siren; the shame it would bring to her family would be immense. Sirens would sing Songs about the day the princess was cast out of her kingdom. Although Celeste dreamed of doing something worthy of being sung about, that wasn’t what she had in mind.

And yet...

Human sightings were so rare, even for the Chorus. If her mother had her way, who knew when—or even if —she’d have a chance to see one again. Just one look won’t hurt anyone , a small voice said. Her own voice. And before she realized she’d decided, Celeste was hurtling forward. Excitement thrummed in her veins, pushing her faster until she could feel the force of the ship in the water. She paused, the weight of her decision settling in. There was a reason the punishment was severe. Not only would this endanger herself but she’d be in violation of a treaty among all siren kingdoms. To humans, sirens were a myth. And it was in everyone’s best interest to keep it that way. Revealing the existence of sirens to humankind was punishable by death. Was she really willing to risk death?

Just one little look , she assured herself. Then I’ll accept my fate. Whatever it may be . And with a beat of her tail, she rose so her eyes were just above the surface.

Music?

She wouldn’t have believed it, except the sound was unmistakable. It never occurred to her that humans could do such a thing. The strumming of strings filled the air, drawing her in. And just as it was about to repeat its refrain, a voice joined it—deep, velvety smooth, and decidedly male. The song was inviting, but not in the way sirens’ Songs were. To the sirens, Songs were tools. Weapons. Healers used the Song to manipulate bodies. The Chorus used the Song to manipulate minds. And storytellers used the Song so their history would not be forgotten. There were Songs to teach and Songs to tear down, to celebrate and to mourn, but every Song was magic. An echo of the Goddess herself.

But this human music had a magic all its own. The voice calling to mind tender heartbreak and bittersweet longing.

As the melody reached its chorus, it shifted. The mournful singing became loud and rough, more of a shout than a melody. Other voices joined in, mixing together like sand, smooth and coarse all at once. The leader sang first. The others responded in unison. Call-and-response.

Celeste rose further from the water, tilting her head up to gaze along the side of the ship. A chill raced down her spine. It was massive, black and looming like a great beast. Large masts rose from the deck, carrying crisp white sails. Long, weathered scratches covered the wooden sides like a wrinkled face, betraying its long history. At the front of the ship, Celeste could just make out an ornate golden figure of a woman with feathered wings, her long arms tucked against her sides, as if preparing to spring into the air. The ship groaned as it rocked back and forth, the waves moving Celeste right along with it. Fearing an undertow, she swam away from its pull.

And that’s when she saw him.

The singer.

He stood atop the railing of the ship, leaning casually over the water with one hand gripping a rope. His hair, dark as night, swept over his forehead as he turned his sharp jaw into the wind. To her annoyance, his eyes were simply brown. Not even a hint of blood. But his voice. It poured from his full pink lips as easily as breathing. And somehow the song was made better from watching him perform it. There was something about him, as if he was the center of a whirlpool, and Celeste found herself sinking into his gravity. He wore a dark shirt, left partially open to reveal the sculpted top of his chest. And on top of it, a long leather coat hugged his wide shoulders, swaying against his legs. Celeste stared at the strange leather. It was too thin to be armor. Why wear such a thing? Did it not simply get in the way?

He smiled, and his teeth—Celeste let out a huff of exasperation. His teeth were ordinary, rectangular and straight. I should have known Shye was lying , she thought bitterly, embarrassed she had believed the childhood story for so long. But the human did not need rows of sharp teeth. There was still something dangerous about him. It was more than the countless weapons strapped to his body. It was something hiding behind his eyes. Behind his wide smile. Dangerous yet beautiful.

And if he looked down, he’d see her.

Celeste sucked in a breath, yet she remained frozen in place, all sense of self-preservation and training lost. Everything about him fascinated her. From the way he moved, so much clumsier than any siren and yet full of confidence and purpose, to the way he sang. His song was simple and repetitive, nothing like the complex magic of the sirens. But to her surprise, she found herself fighting the urge to sing along.

A small creature appeared beneath the ship’s railing. Its beady eyes scanned the waters below, tongue lolling. Celeste dove forward, hiding closer to the ship. Was that an animal from land? She’d never seen any before. Not any alive, anyway. Its face looked similar to a seal, but it was covered in fur like an otter. And on either side of its head, long flaps swung back and forth. Even from her place beside the ship, she could see the animal give a shake, sending the flaps flopping. The effect of it was surprisingly adorable, given its strangeness. The animal gazed up at the singer, body wriggling with barely concealed excitement. And the singer brightened, dropping down to the ship’s floor and causing Celeste to swim out a bit more to keep them both in sight. The man ran his fingers through the animal’s curling hair, and in spite of herself, Celeste’s heart gave a little tug at the sight. There was a kindness to him. A gentleness.

A cry rang out as the humans finished their song, dissolving into cheers and shouts of goodwill, and the singer turned away from her. From her new vantage, Celeste could see more of the ship. A smile lit her face as she recognized things from her explorations. Mysterious objects now whole and in their proper place. An instrument she’d seen in pieces was now strummed by a human’s deft hands. She frowned. Somehow Celeste always pictured them playing it with their creepy leg fingers.

“Bastian,” called the handsome singer, his tone commanding and warm. “I need an update on our supplies.” He spoke in the common human tongue. A thrill went up Celeste’s spine at hearing it used by a native speaker for the first time. Although not generally known by sirens, the language was required learning for every member of the Chorus.

Another human moved into view, a wide white smile contrasting beautifully with his rich brown skin.

“We are on schedule in terms of our store,” the other man, Bastian, replied. “Food will last until we make port, and our stock of ale and wine is more than enough to keep us going as our water supply diminishes.”

The leader nodded, half listening while he scratched behind the animal’s ear. Then, with a great bark, the creature scampered off in chase toward something Celeste could not see. “Well then! Good day,” the singer called after it in mock offense. He turned to Bastian. “Do you think the Admiral is cross with me?”

Bastian shrugged. “Have you done anything to incur his ire?”

“The problem is, dear Bastian”—his lips quirked up wickedly—“that I incur so much ire that one couldn’t possibly keep track.”

Bastian laughed and shook his head. “Then we may never know.”

A new song struck up. Feet slammed against the ship’s surface, and crewmates sprang into movement, weaving around each other, shouting the song back and forth.

The prince arched an eyebrow. “Care for a dance, Quartermaster?”

Amusement passed across Bastian’s face. “Far be it for me to keep you from your birthday celebrations, My Prince, but shouldn’t we keep an eye out?”

“Let Ol’ Gunner keep watch for all the nasty creatures of the deep.” He grinned as he gestured to a hulking man with a downturned mouth who, to Celeste, resembled a blobfish. “I think we’re prepared for anything that may come our way.” Without waiting for Bastian to respond, the man—a prince, apparently—leaped into the center of the dance, the crew roaring in approval.

Celeste watched in awe, captivated by the liveliness of it all. Sirens danced in graceful movements performed at special ceremonies, clear and calm. The humans moved like a raging current. And in the center of this whirlpool danced the prince.

There were so many humans on the ship. At least a hundred, by her estimation, and that was only those above deck. Their skin tones were various shades of pale pink, soft gold, or brilliant brown. Where were the greens? The purples? The blues? Where were the flaming reds and burning oranges? Even their hair only ranged from light brown to black. How boring , she thought with awe. She looked past the ship to the horizon, wondering if this ship was traveling in a group like sirens did. But all she saw were dark storm clouds moving in and the sun climbing higher in the sky. The sun! If she didn’t leave soon, she’d be caught. And although she dearly wished to stay and learn more, Celeste knew that she had already risked too much.

If only she knew how right she was.