Page 15

The warden watched the snaking line of inmates from inside a whale’s ribcage at the mine’s entrance, her figure framed by ivory bones.

Her gold scales shimmered between them like bars of treasure locked inside an ancient chest. She wore her black hair bound in thin netting, and her breastplate was forged from broken shells.

She ruled the mines by force and fear, but there were whispers of her deals and the ones who’d taken them. They weren’t mercy, just tokens she took to feed Saltgrave’s soul, and likely her own. I was sure the cost of her information would be worse than Sirena imagined.

But I had nothing left to lose by trying.

As we neared the cage of bones, Sirena nudged me in the ribs. We would have to leave the line and fall to our fins in the sand, our shackled hands high over our heads. If the warden was willing to hear our request, she’d grant us entry. If not, we’d be thrown into solitary with the heathens.

I was already condemned to the deepest part of the mines. I didn’t relish more punishment.

“Whatever you do, don’t look her in the eye. They say she’ll turn you to stone,” Sirena mumbled, shoving me out of the line before I could second-guess our plan .

“What?” I choked as I sank forward on my elbows, then lifted my wrists past my head, keeping my gaze low.

A hush rippled through the line. No one stopped. No one looked. They swam past like the current might drag them with us if they lingered too long.

I glared at Sirena for a beat. She winked—of course she did—then stuck her nose in the sand.

We were definitely going to end up in solitary.

The warden peered at us, her gold-flecked gaze cold and assessing as if she could divine our appeal before we even spoke it.

“Let them enter,” she said to the guards at the base of the whale’s ribcage. Then, with a flick of her shockwave stick, she added, “And then, leave us.”

We swam inside the cage. The floor was layered with crushed shells, sharp enough to slice your fin if you weren’t careful.

A jagged rock slab protruded through the sand, serving as a desk.

Piles of driftwood slates were chained to the floor with corroded metal, each one etched with prisoner names and grim notes—bargains made, debts owed, and the list of the dead.

“Speak your piece,” the warden said, folding her arms in front of her armored breastplate. “And then, tell me what you have to offer.”

The words tangled in my throat like knotted kelp, and I kept my gaze fixed to the floor, certain Sirena’s stone comment was a joke… but just in case.

“I’m seeking information about the lost relic that could save the kingdom.”

The warden moved closer, the shells stirring beneath her fin. She chuckled softly, then lifted my chin with her finger until I met her gaze .

“Wouldn’t you rather bargain for more food? A heat rune? Something to warm your bones? What use is a legend in Saltgrave?”

My heart pounded inside my chest. I didn’t turn to stone, but my limbs felt heavier, nerves weighing me down.

I cleared my throat. “Legends can be keys. The right one could unlock my chains and turn the tide on this war.”

She scraped her fingernail down the side of my cheek. “You’re a dreamer, then.”

“No.” I laughed, the sound bitter on my tongue. “I haven’t dreamed in years.”

The warden’s lips curled. “Tell me your name, prisoner.”

“Marin Nichols.”

“Ah, yes, the traitor. But I don’t judge if the offer is fair. What will you give me for the legend?”

I swallowed. “I don’t have—”

“Take my siren song.” Beside me, Sirena’s fingers ghosted along the base of her throat.

I whipped my head toward her. “Sirena, no!”

Sirena gripped my arm, the iron of her shackles cold against my skin. She leaned closer and whispered, “What use is a voice meant to chain when I’m the one chained? Use me. Find the relic. Make them all pay.”

“It’s too much. I might not even be able to find it. What if—?”

“I accept,” the warden interrupted. Her eyes gleamed as she pulled a piece of driftwood from the stack and etched the deal into the surface. “The bargain is sealed. Your song for a legend.”

I shook my head as Sirena squeezed my arm and swam forward, tilting her chin up to better reveal the inked thorns around her neck and the glow beneath her skin.

“One last song?” the warden asked, with a cruel twist of her lips. “Too bad your lure won't work against me. But I look forward to taking it.”

“Just do it.”

The warden eyed her carefully, then her voice lowered as she murmured a chant. Chains rattled, and the broken shells covering the floor vibrated under our fins.

The water warmed, becoming almost too hot as the warden’s chant grew louder. Then a shimmering band of gold coiled around Sirena’s throat, binding tight. Her song flashed beneath it, sending rays of light scattering through the current.

Sirena jolted, her head tipping back as the band vanished, taking her song with it. The inked thorns dissolved into nothing, leaving her throat bare.

She blinked, dazed for a second before she opened her mouth. No notes emerged.

“My lure is gone,” she said. “I can't sing.”

I took Sirena’s hand, lacing my fingers through hers as our shackles emitted a muffled clang.

My lips trembled.

A siren without her song was a cruel twist of fate. Once lost, it was nearly impossible to regain. But then, finding a lost relic after years in Saltgrave felt impossible too. If I succeeded, maybe there was also hope for Sirena.

The warden placed the driftwood onto a different stack, then faced me.

“Now… here is your legend. Listen well. Long ago, a mystical shard was stolen from the heart of an ancient underwater tomb. They say it holds the power to defeat the sea’s dark magic, but only when paired with a true source of ocean enchantment. Alone, it is dormant.”

The warden’s voice dropped lower, and we both leaned closer to catch the rest.

“No one knows where it lies now. Only this: it was cast from the sea and taken above—out of the hands of mermaids and into the corrupt grip of those who walk on land.”

The warden finished and offered nothing more, just a flick of her hand before the guards returned.

“Back to the line,” she said, already turning to watch the shackled inmates entering the mines.

Sirena and I swam in silence. The sting of her sacrifice prickled my skin like needles.

As we rejoined the line of prisoners and the mouth of the mines swallowed us, Sirena murmured, “Was it enough? Can you find it?”

Her voice sounded strange, hollow without the melodic undertone of her song.

A magical shard cast from the sea.

I was sure I’d heard that tale before, but when I closed my eyes, the details wouldn’t come. Too much time had passed. My mind was too broken. Each thought blurred and tumbled with other stories and wisps of information until they were just murky fragments floating away in the current.

But Sirena’s sacrifice wasn’t in vain. I knew how to break through the walls surrounding my memories.

In another ironic twist, the pearl Tivara had gifted me—the one bound to my blood, that showed visions of the past—might not be a curse after all.

I looked at Sirena before we were separated and gave her a quick nod.

“I will find it.”