Page 2 of Voice of the Ocean

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.

CHAPTERTWO

Something was wrong. Celeste had swum only a few miles toward home when she felt it. A disturbance in the water. Halting, she willed her racing heart to calm before it alerted any predators. How she wished for her spear. It had been a risk not to bring it, but leaving the palace armed would surely draw too much attention if she were seen. She lifted her hands, rolling them into fists.

She cast a look around at the endless turquoise vastness, but her eyes only fell upon a freshly born sea turtle. The little body was so small that if Celeste hadn’t been training as often as she did, she would have missed it. The newborn flapped its arms adorably, rocking its shell side to side through the rippling water. So small in the great vastness of the open ocean. She swam down a little closer to look.

But then she felt it again. Something else was near.

From the dark depths a hulking body cut through the water like a knife. A massive blue shark, nearly twice the size of Celeste from head to fin. The shark was still far enough for Celeste to make an escape; it was no match for the speed and dexterity of a siren. The turtle would not be so lucky.

The gills across Celeste’s neck fluttered in indecision.

It’s not our place to intervene with other creatures. This time the voice inside her head was of her instructor Madam Auralia. And it was true. In the wilds of the ocean, no creature was safe. It was stupid to risk your life for an animal, let alone a turtle. Each second that ticked by was a risk in itself.

But she could not tear her gaze away from the toddling newborn.

With a growl of frustration, she dove. The turtle, who’d seen Celeste and knew her as a predator, attempted to flee. But its little limbs were too clumsy. The shark gained, but the siren was closer. With outstretched hands, she scooped the turtle into her arms and bolted.

Behind her, she felt the shark follow. Could feel it drawing closer by the second. The frightened turtle struggled in her arms, desperate.

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