Page 7 of Blood of the Sirens
The mers gathered around the large shell table turned and stared. Father rose from the single stone chair toward the back, frowning at me. His dark hair flowed behind him, long and loose today.
“Cutting it close, don’t you think?”
My cousin Barrett’s grin was a bit too malicious for my tastes.
“Shut up,” I hissed, smacking him in the shoulder.
“You’re in trouble.…” Barrett lilted in a sing-song voice, not bothering to keep his voice down. He was forty compared to my thirty-five, but I swear he acted like a guppy most days.
At eighty, my father was not so easily amused. “Boys,” he grunted.
We both straightened and focused on the meeting. Other clan heads were present, announcing this as a serious venture. There was my father, head of the Sunfish clan. Bright eyes marked our males, as well as the gold kissed edges on our scales,fins, and tail. My father stood in front of a chair of decorative coral and bone—a chair thatI’dfashioned for him—and glared imperiously at the others. His dark hair was a complete contrast to mine, held away from his face with a thong made haphazardly of seaweed and shells. I’d offered to make him a proper one for a few of the squids that their territory is famous for, but he refused.
His loss.
Across from him paced the head of the Bluefish clan, his son Aris close by his side. Their waists were covered in the spines of a dead fish, fluttering gently with every sharp turn as the chief paced. Everything about them was tinted blue, from their scales to their tails. Even their skin carried the hue, which made it more difficult for their males to hunt for a breeding partner. They hadn’t had a birth in nearly one hundred years.
But if Barrett annoyed me, Aris was a pain in my ass.
Also in attendance were the Kingfish clan—rumored to be descendants of Poseidon himself, as well as the Spadefish and the Jackfish clans. Their silver spots flashed at me with every small movement. It was irritating.
“The birth rates are declining, even as low as they are,” spat the Bluefish chief.
My father’s lips thinned. “I understand your concerns, but we don’t have the resources to supportallof your males coming here to hunt year round. The humans may get suspicious. If the beaches get shut down and they cancel their festival rite, we will all be out of luck.”
Ah, the festival rite. The time of the year when many young humans, both male and female, flocked to our shores. We weren’t sure what they were celebrating, but it was a large, loud celebration. They would stay for six or seven nights, drinking and dancing on the sand in tiny clothes that barely coveredtheir bodies. Then they would leave, and not return for a year’s time.
It was prime hunting season for us.
“We aren’t asking for you to house them indefinitely,” argued the Kingfish chief, “just for the week of the festival. Our males will bring with them goods as payment for their presence. Our shores never have the gathering that yours do. We are all in this together.”
My father sighed, his hair a dark halo as it floated around him.
“I am not convinced our shores are the best hunting grounds,” he replied. “No suitable females have been found in decades, just like your shores.”
My blood froze, remembering my female. I realized I didn’t even know her name. That was all right. I didn’t need it; I’d be able to scent her out, anyway. I was sure of it.
Barnacles.
“It’s a numbers’ game, Tride,” said the chief of the Spadefish clan. Black scales snaked down his face and tail in distinctive stripes. “Your shores have the largest group of females gathered for their rite. Therefore, the highest likelihood of success. If any of our males dofind a partner, we have all agreed to pay you handsomely for your patience. My youngest male is fifty-five!” The chief gestured to his son, whose cheeks reddened with embarrassment. He didn’t look much older than me, despite the twenty years of difference. Such was the way with our blood. We outlived humans easily though the elders claimed we lived longer when the sirens still roamed the oceans with us.
“Fine,” my father capitulated, his fingers digging into his temples. “I will allow the males to gather in our village for the seven nights of the festival only.” He paused as hope flared in the eyes of the other chiefs. “However, I must insist theytake care and not draw attention. If any of your males cause trouble, they will leave with no questions asked. I have final say.”
The chiefs all nodded, obviously eager to have the deal sealed.
“Very well.” My father pushed off from his seat, his powerful tail disrupting the sand nearby. The swirls settled back onto the ocean floor and he directed the others, “Please retire for refreshments. I would speak with my son alone.”
The other chiefs drifted quickly from the room. Barrett rolled his eyes and gave me a look, following them out. As a cousin to the chief, he was given a lot of leeway in most things. Most of the time I was wildly envious of him. Perhaps he’d like to switch places?
Aris sneered at me before he followed his father out, his blue tail flipping at me in a sign of disrespect. I ignored him.
“Merrick!” Father called.
I swam closer, unease filling my gut like it usually did when my father wanted to have a talk. “Yes, Father. I am here.”
His dark eyebrows rose. “Nowyou are here. Am I to expect you to be so dedicated in your pursuit to find a female that you lost track of the sun’s position?”
I winced, unable to hide my reaction from his sarcastic tone. He knew I wasn’t going to the surface to look for a female. We both knew, just as he knew the last thing I wanted was to become chief. It was a silent wound that festered between us, never spoken about, but never able to heal, either.I’d go days sometimes without seeing my father. He was so busy managing the clan and keeping us all safe that he didn’t do anything else. I knew the day I became king, I’d never again have time to work on my art.
