Page 57 of A Wrecking of Salt and Fire

The sound of stuttering breaths filled the room as Ander choked on his wine. “Do you need me to leave?” His stare was piercing, looking at her now trembling hand. A knowing gaze lighting his eyes.

A shiver went down her spine at the thought of him imagining what she might do to herself if she were alone in the chambers. The way her fingers might travel down her body. “I think…I think I need some fresh air. If you’ll excuse me.” Katrin marked the book and put it down on the table, curtsying before she quickly scurried out of the room. If she had not embarrassed herself enough, that really put her over the edge.

As Katrin stepped on the deck she wondered how she was going to make it another week confined to just this ship with him.

The seas had become rough over the past few days. It was what Ander had warned of, why he had hoped her wounds would heal quickly. Katrin often woke in the night thrashing along with the waves against the sides of The Nostos, but her mind would be blank.

Ander was there, watching her, lulling her back to sleep. Every morning looking weary-eyed, his face weathered, gaze distant, like he felt every inch of her pain and confusion. He would rush off to the helm of the ship, leaving Katrin to her books and her breakfast like nothing had happened. Leaving her more confused than ever. But when she would fall back asleep, it would be dreamless. No nightmares clawing their way through.

During the day, she continued wandering the deck. Even as the rain poured for three days. Even as the crew took refuge in the cabins below. Even as the thunder crackled in the distance and lightning threatened to strike. The bolts etched across the night sky, devouring the stars in their wake. She watched, unafraid of the symbol of her people.

The Grechi had been angered. Angered to a degree she had not experienced in years, if the storms were to be this harrowing and consuming. It reminded her of that night, when she escaped the seas, when she had almost given in to death. Perhaps that was why Katrin stayed above. Maybe she wanted to feel every drop of rain, hear every perilous clap from the sky. Remember why she cowered that day. Remember to never feel that way again.

She would not break this time. She was stronger. Or at least, she was trying to be.

Katrin stood by the stern of the ship, looking out to where the storm had broken, where the skies cleared to a starry night sky. Each one twinkling in succession, like the beat of a song she had heard once long ago. Then the voice came. Soft at first, like a whisper behind her ear. “Come find me.” Words danced around her. “Come find me and you will be safe.” Where was it coming from—this delicate, beckoning call?

“Come join me and I will protect you.” The lilting voice turned deeper, meshing with one she recognized. “Come join me in the depths of the sea.” It was his voice—Ander’s voice.

"Ander?" Her eyes glazed over as she ran her hand along the ship’s rail, its weathered shellac peeling off.

“Come find me. Come find me. Come find me.”

His voice was a gentle coaxing, luring her to the salty abyss beyond.

Katrin gripped the rail tight, hauling herself up until she stood on its slippery surface. Whipping at her face, the storm raged as she held onto a beam across the stern. He was there, hiding in the star-filled sky reflected in the calm seas in the distance. She had to go to him.

“Starling? Starling, what are you doing! Starling!” Katrin’s gaze flipped back and forth. The sounds. They were coming from everywhere at once. “Starling, please!”

“Come find me. Come find me. Come find me.”

She took one step off the side of the rail, ready to let go, the salty air filling her lungs with every breath she took.

“Aikaterine!”

As her hand lifted from the crossbar, she was yanked back down into the ship, landing against something hard. Her eyes cleared, now stinging with the piercing rain and wind.

“Didn’t you hear me? You almost—you could have been killed.” His voice was shaking as he gripped her arm tightly. The grip wasn’t one of force or malice—rather a yearning to know she was there, that she was safe.

Katrin stared back at him with disbelief. “I—I did, but…” His voice was there. She swore it was his. Rising from below the swirling tides. Then it was behind her. Then from all sides. She couldn’t tell what was real and what was in her mind.

“You’re not supposed to be up here! The storm along these shores is not one of the gods, but of creatures much more deceitful. Come, let’s go below before their song starts once more.” He began leading her back toward the stairs to the cabins below, careful to not let her slip on the soaked deck. Katrin could see Leighton taking over at the helm, hands gripped tightly on the wheel, steering them farther into the storm, farther from the calm waters she just witnessed. There was something in his ears. Wax.

“Sirens?” she whispered. “They’re real?” The creatures from his book. Beautiful, wicked beings that drew sailors to their death with their melodic songs.

“I thought you would realize by now that many things you thought were not real exist in our world.” His voice was soft.

“But it was you. I heard you.” Katrin was still overcome with shock. It was the same voice in her dreams, in her memories, in the waters tonight. He called for her. Ander called for her.

Ander froze, glancing back at her, his eyes turning silver and deep green. The same color of the seas she heard him beckoning from. The voice had been dark and wicked and inviting, but this stare was nothing of the sort. It was shock, and torment, and something Katrin could not quite discern. “You heard me?”

She nodded.

“I—” Ander glanced back away. Something wasn’t right. Something more than the fact that she had almost jumped to her death for a second time. “I—I should have realized it would affect you. You aren’t of age yet. I should have known.”

Katrin came to a halt. She noticed Ander had no wax in his ears, and yet the voices had not seemed to plague his mind. “Why do you not hear them? Why were you able to stop me?”

He opened the door to their chambers. The warmth of the room filled Katrin after being out in the storm. “There are many things that make you immune to a siren’s song. Being born of the gods is only one of them.” He shrugged his jacket off, hanging it by the fire in the corner. “You should change into dry clothes, and put this in your ears.” He handed her two small pieces of wax. “We haven't passed them fully yet.”

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