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CHAPTER ELEVEN

Celeste sat upon the dry sand, staring at her useless legs. It had been a long time since the Sea Witch had deposited her upon the strange human beach, and she still hadn’t managed to sort out walking despite her many attempts. This was frustrating. She so wanted to get up and explore the world around her. Instead, she remained seated against a large rock.

Thus far, everything was strange. And dry. Even her hair had dried. She couldn’t stop reaching for it, marveling at how different it felt. Sand clung to every inch of her. She’d never thought about this; in the water, it just fell off. Behind her, further down the beach, Celeste saw rocks not wholly different from what they had in the ocean. Hard and tall. But these rocks were covered in green, like algae but different. And above the not-algae were the tallest plants she’d ever seen. Brown and thick on bottom and fragmenting into hundreds of little offshoots at the top. On each offshoot were leaves. But they weren’t shaped like any she knew, and they didn’t move the same way. Each time the wind blew, they rustled and fluttered. The sound of it was very pleasant.

Above her, she saw an animal sailing through the air, flapping two fins—but they weren’t fins. Nor were they arms. Were these birds? She had heard of them, even knew what feathers looked like from pictures she’d seen. But watching them soar with nothing holding them up took her breath away.

Below the birds sat a collection of squat buildings, none of which had more than two stories. The town was unfamiliar, and Celeste found it frustrating the witch had deposited her here. She only knew the names of a few human cities—Velluno, where she’d dropped the prince and his companions, being one. But she couldn’t have said anything about it to Nerissa without revealing more about her motives.

Once the Sea Witch had finished the painful process of removing Celeste’s gills from her neck, Celeste had only had time to ask if she needed to wear something more than her armor, which protected her upper body. All the humans she’d seen were almost completely covered in clothes. The witch blinked her inky eyes and said, “ I’m sure you’ll make friends either way .” Which was hardly helpful. Then disappeared.

She was not looking forward to their next meeting.

Celeste’s eyes fell onto the dark form of the crescent moon along her inner wrist. She’d made her choice, for better or worse. She could only hope she was doing the right thing. The transformation from siren to human had taken so much time; she didn’t know how many days had passed. Who knew where the humans were now. A cool breeze blew, and Celeste shivered, tiny toes curling. After much asking, Nerissa had at least been kind enough to help her learn all about her new anatomy, pointing at each part and saying its name and function. One part in particular was terribly strange to talk about with the Sea Witch, not that Celeste considered herself a reserved siren.

After another cursory wiggle of the toes, Celeste planted both of her feet into the ground with the goal of trying to stand upright like a human. She curled her body into a ball with her hands flat beside her feet and pushed. Nothing happened. She tried again, this time straightening her legs as she did. When she felt steady enough, Celeste lifted her hands from the ground and tilted up her torso. The legs wobbled, but they were strong. Though having two of them to look after didn’t help matters. She sort of had to move both at once, and yet separately. Some of it came naturally, but most didn’t. Celeste shifted precariously, finally standing for the first time in her life. Her right knee began to bend and turn while her left remained steady. The world tilted, and she went down, slamming her right hip into the sand. She grunted.

Eventually, she decided to use the rock behind her and was able to pull herself to her feet. But once she managed to stay upright on her legs, she wasn’t sure how to move. She’d not been paying attention to how the humans walked when she saw the ship. She’d been rather preoccupied with a certain prince’s face, if she were honest. But she knew how sea creatures walked. So Celeste lowered herself to the sand and laid on her back, bending her legs and arms until she resembled a crab. She was certain humans did not walk like this, but it was the best she could sort out under the circumstances. Celeste pressed her hands and feet down while lifting her torso, then shifted one foot to move it forward. The other foot followed. Next came her hands. And soon Celeste was scuttling down the beach at an alarmingly slow pace.

Still, it was progress.

She traveled halfway toward the town, before turning back and heading for the rock. If she were ever to fit in as a human, she needed to try walking upright again. She used the rock to stand again. This process went remarkably better than the first time. But she wasn’t able to move either foot without leaning heavily upon the rock to keep her shaking legs beneath her. The sinking sand threw her off-balance. No wonder humans were so uncoordinated and graceless. They had too many limbs. She wondered, frustration mounting, how in the Goddess’s name she expected to kill the prince when she couldn’t even manage walking.

Celeste continued to practice until at last she could complete one lap around the rock without falling over. She was considering attempting it without the rock in order to explore more of the beach when she heard a rough voice behind her.

“What are you doing out here? Where are your clothes?”

Ah... she was supposed to wear something.

Celeste turned her head to see a human man in a large hat striding toward her. His coat with many embellishments billowed behind him. In his hands, he carried a long object that reminded her of the weapons she had seen on the ship. Similar to cannons, but handheld, and much longer and narrower. A pistol? Was that what the Chorus had called them? The way his eyebrows pulled together told her he was upset.

“Explain yourself,” he said stiffly.

Celeste froze. He expected her to speak common human to him. Her heart hammered. What if her accent was too thick, and he figured out what she was? What if when she spoke all the words came out wrong? She had little to no practice speaking his language, after all. Sirens learned it to listen to humans, not to speak to them. She hadn’t prepared for this. And what would she say? She didn’t have a good explanation for leaning against a rock on a beach or for not wearing clothes, which seemed very important to him for some reason.

The silence stretched long between them. The human tapped his foot. How was she expecting to live with humans if she couldn’t speak with them? Her breathing quickened, and the man grew impatient.

“What’s wrong with you, girl?” His voice grew louder. “Can’t you speak?” He took another step toward her, and she let go of the rock, attempting to take a step backward. But her unstable legs buckled beneath her, and instead she fell into the sand.

The human’s look of frustration morphed into one of disgust. “Listen, women of your profession are not permitted in this town, nor are public indecency and drunkenness,” he sneered, showing a line of yellowing teeth. “You’re coming with me.”

Celeste might not have understood half of what he had said to her, but she understood that last bit. Her hands flew to her spear at her back, and she swung it around, pointing it at his neck. Not one step closer , her expression said. The human’s eyes grew wide as he looked at the pointed blade. Then he laughed.

“A prostitute with a spear?” He grunted, looking down his nose at her. “Interesting.”

The two remained still. Celeste didn’t dare drop her weapon, but injuring him could cause more trouble for her. She had a feeling he was some sort of guard. She was already a fugitive from one kingdom; she didn’t need to be making enemies on her first day here as well. Still, she couldn’t very well let him lock her up either. Grabbing a handful of sand, Celeste threw it into his face. The human cried out, pawing at his eyes with his free hand. Taking advantage of the distraction, Celeste swung her spear, sweeping his legs from beneath him. He landed with a thud. Celeste tucked her weapon beneath her chin and began to crab-walk toward the water; surely she could outswim him. But she was not fast enough. The man regained his vision, and now, unfortunately, he was angry.

“Get back here, whore ,” he shouted.

In two long strides, he was upon her again. She rolled away, reaching for her spear, but his boot slammed down onto her, pinning her face into the ground. She cried out, pain shooting through her. In one movement, he pulled her spear from her grip. He attempted to snap it over his knee, but the spear was too strong. Celeste reached for it, but he flung it out of her reach with a snarl. While he was distracted, she crawled toward the water. He grabbed her ankle, dragging her back toward him through the rough sand. She kicked and flailed, but he clamped two metal bracelets around her wrists. They were cold and heavy, connected by a chain in the center. Celeste thrashed like a wild animal, but there was nothing more she could do. In the water, she was a siren. But on land, she was helpless.

The human dragged her to her feet and pushed her toward the port town. Her legs shook and stumbled. She fell. He watched, amused.

“Stupid drunk.”

Drunk ... Celeste knew this word from her training. Humans drank certain substances that made them stupid and clumsy—it made them easier to attack. Why they would choose to become stupid or clumsy was beyond her. The man yanked on the cuffs, dragging her back to her feet. The process repeated itself. Each time the man pulled harder than the last, so she was dragged a little between each fall before she could find her feet again. Pieces of shell and branches scraped her, leaving small trails of blood running down her legs. Sand was everywhere. In her hair, her mouth. Eventually, they reached a series of wooden planks, each slightly higher than the one before. Celeste stopped.

“Get up them stairs. I’m not carrying you.” The man grabbed her shoulders, holding her upright. His fingers gripped so hard she could feel bruises blossoming on her arms. She awkwardly tried to balance on one leg and bend and lift the other like he did. At least it was easier on a flat, hard surface.

As they reached the top and the dark human town, Celeste felt her body tremble, the cold of the ocean wind unrelenting. She had no idea where the human was taking her or what he planned to do with her when they arrived. Around them, the town was empty. Dark wooden buildings, like ships, crowded the streets. They leaned in as if to watch their horrible progress with their gleaming glass windows. She thought of how moments before she’d have given anything to walk through the town. Explore why the human buildings seemed to have no openings. How did they get inside? Now she was too scared to care. Beneath her feet, stones rose and fell at awkward angles, tripping her. But this time when she fell, the ground was harder than the sand. Celeste clenched her jaw shut, swallowing her cry as tears sprang to her eyes. Her body felt so heavy on land, as though she were bound to the ground beneath her.

“Get up,” he said.

But she couldn’t. She tried, but her bound hands made it impossible. With a grunt, the man lifted her to her feet. They continued down the road, turning a corner until they stopped before a building constructed with square stones.

“Move.” He pushed her aside to open the door. Her eyes remained on her dirty feet as he nearly dragged her through the building. She didn’t want this human to see her cry. I should have stabbed him with my spear. Killed him when I had the chance , she thought as he spun her body to face him. They were in a small dark room, lit by a single flame encased in glass mounted on the wall.

“Now let’s get you looking presentable ,” he said, the last word dripping with poison. His hands gripped her armor on either side and pulled, as if to rip it down the front laces. The bodice, which was made of strong stingray leather, did not budge. Teeth bared, the human pulled a knife from his hip, the silver of it gleaming and deadly. It was as if Celeste woke from a dream. She cried out and kicked him, sending him leaping away. He spat at her, words she didn’t understand. His red face made him look as though he were about to boil over. She lifted her leg to kick at him again, but the human caught hold of her ankle and pulled. Her back slammed into the cold stone floor, knocking the air from her lungs and leaving her gasping. His hands found her shoulders and held them down, wrestling her into submission. Then he sat upon her, straddling her with one knee on each side of her hips and trapping Celeste’s arms beneath her. Sobs erupted from her as she writhed beneath him. But he didn’t stop. He lowered his knife to the laces of her armor, and with a jerk, he began to cut them apart. Tears slid down her face as she watched the last thing she had of her home torn to pieces. The fight left her, and she laid still until he finished removing her bodice. He removed the metal things from her wrists and stood.

“Get dressed,” he said, pointing with his knife toward a pile of human clothing. When she didn’t move, he grabbed her arm and flung her toward it. “You’re lucky I’m a decent man.” He smiled. “Could’ve locked you up as you are. Bet a lady such as yourself wouldn’t like giving it up for free now, would ya?”

Hands shaking, Celeste reached for the pile of dirty clothing. She didn’t know what she was looking for. She picked up a piece of cloth and held it up in front of her. It was a sort of tube with two openings. Why was it so long? The humans clearly preferred to wear a lot of fabric. Although, given how cold she was, she could understand why.

Eventually, she found a shirt that reminded her of what the prince had worn. It was white and billowing, with a string on the front that laced up. She slid it on over her head and shoved her arms through the sleeves. But even with the added layer, the cold remained. Perhaps she should take more clothing? She recalled the prince wore a coat. A black one that brushed his legs. The one she found was black but had dirty brass buttons and a design on the right breast. She held it close, running her fingers along the intricate stitching. The long, writhing tentacles of a squid holding what resembled a star with long points at the top, bottom, left, and right. She stuck her arms through the sleeves and instantly felt warmer.

Next, she looked for some sort of leg covering. She found many, but they were too large, falling down her hips when she tried them on. Growing impatient, the human grabbed a large piece of red fabric and two hard leather boots and flung them into her arms.

“Stop wasting time and put these on.”

It took her a moment to figure out the tube of fabric, but eventually she guessed the smaller end was for the waist and pulled it up over her hips. She hadn’t seen anything like it before, but when she pushed herself to her feet, she could see the appeal. It swished pleasantly. Having been stepped on by them, she recognized quickly where the boots went and slipped those on as well. They were made of leather, but they weren’t like any leather she was familiar with. This leather was dark brown and worn, the tops of them nearly reaching her knees before they folded over themselves.

Once she was dressed, the human walked her back out of the room. His horrible hands on her shoulders made her skin crawl. Each step they took echoed, a sound she had never heard. It sounded ominous, final. They continued down yet another dark stone hall and into a room. Or, to put it plainly, a cell. Celeste bristled, memories of her time in the palace dungeon all too fresh in her mind. But she was too tired, too upset, too overwhelmed to do anything but let herself be thrown inside like a rag doll. She fell into a heap on the stone floor and heard the door behind her clang closed.

Everything hurt. Bruises from his hands bloomed on her arms, tender and sore. Her new legs were covered in scratches and scrapes, and her poor knees were raw from landing on them over and over. She couldn’t summon the strength to move from the hard surface beneath her. She missed floating. Moving in whatever direction she liked. Now it felt like there was only down. So she lay there, holding in her tears as best she could. Humans do not deserve mercy , she thought, pulling her knees into her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Not if this is what they do to their own . Footsteps retreated down the hallway, and a door slammed closed, signaling the human had gone.

Celeste squeezed her eyes shut and tried to focus on her breathing. She thought she was lonely at home, but she had been wrong. This was so much worse. A world away from everything she had ever known, she had never felt so alone in her life. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, couldn’t protect herself. And now she had been imprisoned for being “drunk” and a “prostitute,” two charges that she hardly understood. Eventually, she couldn’t fight the tears any longer. She let them come. Because what was the point? The tears ran down her face, leaving trails in the sand and grime on her face.

“Looks like you’ve had a worse night than I have.”

Celeste’s eyes snapped open. She had thought she was alone. In an instant, she was sitting ramrod straight, hands held protectively in front of herself. Her eyes scanned the room, searching like startled prey. A human sat against the stone wall at the back of the cell. It was a female . Celeste had only seen human females in half-ruined paintings or as pictures in lockets. There hadn’t been any women on the prince’s ship. Celeste tried not to stare, but she failed. The human before her looked near her age, with dark hair that fell in waves around her shoulders, soft golden skin, and round dark eyes. She wore a leg covering like Celeste’s, but her shirt had straight sleeves and wrapped around the torso, crossing over itself in the font and tying at her hip. And like her, this human was dirty. Celeste looked around and saw, to her relief, that there were no other humans in the cell. In fact, there was nothing in the stone room save for a bucket that sat in the corner and a small, barred window.

“I’m Kiyami,” the human said. “What’s your name?”

Celeste would have ignored her, if it were not for the woman’s red-rimmed eyes and tear-soaked face. So humans did cry . Celeste opened her mouth and touched her hand to her throat, hoping to convey in some way that she couldn’t speak. She didn’t particularly want to talk with any human, let alone a criminal.

“Ah, not a talker?” Kiyami said, a subtle slur to her words.

Celeste nodded.

“Well, at least we’re not alone, eh?” The human smiled.

The princess didn’t return the gesture. Celeste did not trust this human. She did not trust any of them.