Page 84 of Siren Problems
“I do not pine.”
“You’rea tree,Calder. A tall, grumpy, emotionally repressed tree who just realized spring exists.”
I grunt again, but this time it’s a laugh under my breath. “That mean you’re sticking around?”
Mira closes her tablet, her gaze turning serious. “Yeah. If you’re serious about this place becoming a sanctuary, you’re gonna need someone who knows what ley sickness looks like before it blooms. Someone who doesn’t mind your mood swings.”
I nod. “Then you’re hired.”
She smirks. “About damn time.”
Just then, Lyle trips over his own enthusiasm and nearly faceplants into the tidepool. I lurch forward on instinct, but he catches himself—barely—and the kids erupt into giggles.
“Also,” I mutter, “tell him the glitter wards are off-limits.”
Mira snorts. “You’re going to have to accept that magical beach tours are the new local economy.”
“Gods save me,” I say again, but I can’t stop the grin tugging at my mouth.
Because somehow, this place that once held nothing but salt-scabbed memories and silence... now holdslife.
And I let it.
When the crowd thins out, I walk the cove alone for a few minutes. It’s quieter now, just the rhythm of the waves and the distant voice of Luna arguing with Kai about whether ley mapping qualifies as flirting.
I crouch by the altar rock—the one we once feared. I press my palm to its surface. It’s warm.
No echoes. No pain.
Justfreedom.
“You did good,” Luna’s voice says behind me.
I turn. She’s barefoot, her jeans soaked from wading through the surf, a shell in her hand like it’s some kind of offering.
“I did what I should’ve done centuries ago,” I say.
She shrugs. “You did itnow.That’s what matters.”
We sit in the sand, backs against the altar stone, shoulders brushing. The tide creeps in, cool and gentle.
“I want this,” I say quietly. “Not just for the town. For us.”
Her hand finds mine. “Then keep it. No more hiding.”
I squeeze her fingers. “No more hiding.”
The sea hums like it approves.
Later that week, I wait inside the new field lab—a renovated boathouse with open walls, filtered light, and more enchanted weatherproofing than I'd ever admit I helped with. Luna's due any minute, and my hands keep twitching like I'm about to be caught doing something illegal.
Mira helped stain the wood. Lyle engraved the nameplate with more flair than necessary. But the desk? I built it. Every plank sanded, every joint fitted by hand. Oak and stone and a shimmer of sea glass set into the corners, humming softly with ley protection.
The nameplate reads:Dr. Luna Wilder – Chaos Cartographer, Sea-Saver, Certified Nuisance.
The last part was Mira’s idea. Obviously.
Luna walks in mid-rant about someone refusing to let her sample a ley crystal without three forms of ID. “I swear, if they make me fill out one more?—”
