While the people danced, Nola sat alone at the table—she was a spectator who did not belong.
“You and I need to speak,” Kala spoke from behind her. Nola turned around, wrapping her arms around her waist as a slight cool breeze swept between them. The woman may have looked kind, but the energy Nola felt whenever she was close to her was anything but. She could not tell what it was; it just felt off, like a magical force was circling her—warning her.
“You want to speak with me?” Nola asked, surprised, but then it dawned on her.
Of course she would want to speak with a siren posing as a human who had just entered their city, Nola told herself.
“Sure,” she agreed, turning back to her.
Kala inched forward.
“Do they know?” she asked. “About what you are?”
Nola looked down, shaking her head. “No,” she replied. “I don’t believe so anyway.”
“Good. Mazie has her own demons to deal with. It is better that way.”
Nola looked up. “Why do you care what they think of me?”
“What I care about is my daughter,” Kala confessed.
“I would never hurt her.”
“Oh, I believe that. A true siren would have slaughtered that entire crew by now.” Kala’s eyes searched hers. “You are a delicate one!”
Delicate one? What the hell does she mean by that?Nola cursed in her head.
She was no delicate flower, but Kala was right; she would not—purposefully—hurt anyone. At least not a crew who was trying to help her get to where she needed to go. They were not her enemies.
“They are helping me, Kala. I’m on a journey to save my family. To save Zemira,” Nola said as she stood from her chair, trying to avoid the conversation.
Kala got up and walked by her, looking at the siren girl skeptically. “You want something else, don’t you?”
Lincoln,Nola thought, swiftly. She wanted Lincoln, but then she thought deeper; she drifted to the things she truly wanted.
Nola shrugged. “I want to know who I really am—I want to swim.”
The woman interrupted, “...how about finding out who your parents are?”
Nola nodded in silence.
“I guarantee, whoever they are, they’ve not forgotten about you. If they are still alive, that is. A mother never forgets or stops loving their child,” Kala said.
Nola frowned. “It seems, though, Mazie thinks you hate her,” she said. “Unless this is how you always treated each other.”
Kala let out a small laugh. “Mazie was young when she left. Her hatred towards me runs deep.” Her smile slipped. “Especially after what happened the week she left.”
Nola’s forehead creased.
“You want to know what happened, don’t you?”
Nola nodded eagerly. “Yes. I do want to know.”
Kala walked towards a path and Nola followed closely behind until they reached a bridge. “Mazie and her sister believed they could fly.”
Nola’s lips parted. “Like a fairy?”
“Like a bird,” she corrected, “A raven, to be exact.”