Page 37 of Siren's Treasure

The music had grown more complex, layers of melody weaving together like currents in a tide pool. The fiddle sang of longing while the pipes added hope, all grounded by the steady heartbeat of the drum. “She’ll never have our music, our home, our lives.” The soft glow of the lamp cast half Raggon’s face in shadow, and the grief she saw tugged at her heart. He’d lost his kingdom, his inheritance so long ago. She couldn’t imagine how she’d feel at such a loss. “How did you escape?”

“Morris protected us. My parents stayed behind to face Circe. They were executed. My sister… I don’t think she survived. Our spies could find no trace of her. She was so young! That was more than a decade ago. She’d be twenty now—a beautiful child—she looked just like our mother, hair the color of gold, with the sylph powers of our ancestors misting her fingertips.”

The tragedies from those years were long past, but the grief was still freshly written across his face. Why hadn’t the merfolk helped these people? Her father was so powerful… but he didn’t interfere in the lives of humans. It was one of his strictest rules.

But Circe was a Land Witch. It was so unfair.

The melody that somehow captured both melancholy and defiance in the Sylphorian’s music struck her soul, especially as she watched the tangle of emotions pass through Raggon’s features. And just like that, she released the last of her defenses, sinking fully against his shoulder, her surrender tasting like the sweetest relief, as she rested against the strength of a man who had the power to love so deeply.

The sound of flapping wings joined the sounds of celebration, as Tobias emerged from the hatchway leading to the lower deck with his parrot. Raggon turned rigid, his attention drawing to the last member of his family. His young brother moved slowly, his steps careful but determined. Thessa understood Raggon’s fierce protectiveness now.

The parrot circled above Tobias, so closely in sync with his movements that it made her pause to consider. Circe was powerful, but flying creatures were naturally resistant to witch’s magic. Was Sterling watching over his young master, giving him his last thread to humanity?

The music erupted into a lively tune, crashing through her thoughts. What she’d taken for a steady soprano she could now see was a threaded instrument. The man ran a stick over strings framed by cherry red wood, his hand moving faster and faster as the rhythm took hold of her soul and refused to let go.

Raggon locked eyes with her, his steady gaze sparkling with reflected light. “And so, we live and dance and sing. This is our resistance against Circe.” The soberness that had capturedhis face transformed into a grin, and suddenly she understood him all too well. The hope playing in his expression was actual rebellion against the one who’d stolen everything from him.

The drum thrummed faster and faster, making her heart pound. Or was that because of the delicious warmth of Raggon’s eyes on her?

His fingers tangled through hers again. “It’s time to try something you’ll never forget. Ready for this?”

Before she could take another breath, he helped her to her feet and reeled her from the shadowy alcove. His hand pressed against her back as he brought her close. “Right foot forward, then back.Thisis what we call dance!”

She gasped. But this was supposed to be fearful, painful, wretched! He led her through the steps, and it felt as rhythmic as swimming, but altogether different in his arms. “Now to the side. That’s it.” His movement guided hers like when he’d taught her to walk. “Turn—good!”

She let out a laugh. Spinning was losing all control, but lending it to him awhile as he steered the dance. Scylla had been so cruel to make this painful for Undine. This was heavenly without that interference! Humans had discovered something close to the gliding motion of the waves. Thessa dropped his hand, found his fingers again, and spun.

The pattern of the dance brought her closer and closer to his chest with each turn until she could feel the warmth radiating from him. Her pulse quickened as his arm once again encircled her waist, this time with a possessive urgency that set her skin on fire.

His breath became hers as he leaned nearer… nearer. His eyes dropped to her lips, and for a beautiful moment, the entire sea seemed to hold its breath.

A horrible clanging sound shattered the spell—Tobias had produced a strange instrument, something like a series of curvedmetal bowls attached to a wooden base. She peered around the solid mass of Raggon’s arm to see his brother run his fingers across the bowls, producing a discordant noise that made several of the crew wince.

Raggon breathed out an amused chuckle. “At least he didn’t drag out my birthday gift.”

Tobias shot his brother an answering grin, then winked at Thessa. “This belonged to Father.” His voice sounded lighter than the last they’d talked.

“It’s the Sea’s Blessing,” Raggon explained to her. “An instrument of our people. Legend says it can call the spirits of the deep… when played by someone who knows what they’re doing.”

Tobias gave him a level look and, responding to the challenge, his fingers moved more deliberately, coaxing a haunting melody from the metal bowls. The sound was unlike anything she’d heard before—liquid and ethereal—he’d given the water itself a voice.

As the notes rose and fell, the flames from the surrounding lanterns stretched upward, their light intensifying. Tiny motes of phosphorescence began to rise from the deck in a mystical glow.

Her hand rose involuntarily over her mouth, watching as the spiraling patterns swirled to the music.

“Our father used to play that way,” Raggon whispered. “I’ve never heard Tobias do that before.”

The glowing motes danced around them, casting an otherworldly light that transformed the deck into something divine—neither of land nor sea. An involuntary gasp ripped from her lips at the beauty.

“You like that?” Raggon asked. That dimple she’d spied earlier made another appearance. “Just wait until you see this.” He guided her toward the ship’s bow, so she could see the lightsglittering over the waves in a stunning display of color. She leaned against the railing, captured by their scenery.

And still, even surrounded by the soft glow of the sea’s magic, Thessa turned, inexplicably drawn to this man instead. She studied Raggon’s profile against the swirling phosphorescent lights. They caught in currents of air stirred by Tobias’s music, witnesses to the world of what Sylphoria had lost to the Sea Witch’s magic, but here stood a man who’d withstood it all.

She touched his arm. “I’m sorry that Circe took your home.”

“We’ll get it back.” Determination steeled his voice. “My family doesn’t bear this curse for nothing. We come from a proud sea people… Undine fell in love with our great king for good reason.” He somehow made that sound like a happy thing. Wait, did he think it was? “Their love made the king’s bloodline spirits of the air. A sylph…” He leaned closer to her, his eyes reflecting the dancing lights around them. “And we’vealwaysbeen partial to mermaids.”

Her heart climbed into her throat; its beat so strong she was certain he must hear it. How could he celebrate such a horrible disaster?

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