My mother’s voice boomerangs inside my mind, commanding me to give up the hope of trying to overthrow her and just take Elian’s heart before it’s too late. If I fail at getting the Second Eye of Keto, then not only will I die, but I’ll die a traitor to the ocean. But what’s the alternative? Bowing and praying that one day she gives me the throne, all the while watching Kahlia wince in her presence? If I follow my mother’s orders, then I’m condemning Kahlia and the rest of the ocean to her rule. But if I don’t follow them, if I dare to go through with my plot, then I risk proving just how defective I really am.
I grip the ship more tightly, inhaling the slick salt in the air.
If only my quest were as simple as Elian’s, singularly focused on being the savior of humanity. It might seem like a big undertaking, but it’s not like it requires him to betray everything he’s ever known. If he succeeds, his mother might be proud. If I succeed, mine might die.
Thinking of Elian makes the night seem colder. I know whichever plan I go with will lead to his death. Either I try to kill him now, or I wait to kill him after, but there’s no path I’ve mapped out for myself that doesn’t end alongside his life.
Every action will betray. Every choice will slaughter. Despite what my mother says, I seem to be the exact kind of monster she wanted.
The very moment I think that, a soft melody slips through the air. A distant lullaby, too far to make out, but familiar all the same. It’s drowsing and seductive. So much so that it takes me a few moments to realize the ship is quaking. It’s like the ocean hears the treachery of my thoughts and sends a mighty force crashing into the side of the Saad. I hurl forward and my hands slam over the edge of the ship’s body.
I barely stop myself from plummeting overboard. I hold back a scream and look down at the peaceful ocean below. There’s not a wave in sight, or the slow bubble of froth that comes after such a powerful surge. But there is a shadow.
I blink.
It lingers in the pooling darkness, half-swallowed by water and gripping firmly on to the Saad. I squint, leaning farther over the edge to get a closer look.
From the darkness, a skeleton claw rises.
The shadow scrambles toward me, scurrying up the side of the Saad with nefarious speed. I jump back just in time for the creature to pounce onto the deck and shake the sails.
Ridges crisscross down its body like scars, patched by motes of gray that seep into its flesh. Each of its fins are set apart in razors, and its large torso is carved into endless folds, leading to arms that end in inky talons. Half-shark, half something far more demonic.
The Flesh-Eater.
I drop to my knees and my mother’s monster roars. He skitters toward me, reaching out with slick palms to drag a hand down my cheek.
“Pórni mou,” he gnarls.
I don’t react to the possessive claim, or the repulsive way he phrases it, his claws scraped against my skin in warning. I was wary of the Flesh-Eater even when I was a siren, but now that I’m human, he could easily tear through me. Perhaps that’s why my mother sent him. I wonder why Elian and his crew haven’t come running. Is it possible they didn’t feel the ship lurch? I focus again on that familiar lullaby gliding through the wind, making my eyes heavier with each verse.
A siren’s song. Making sure the crew stays in their slumber.
“Anthrópinos,” the Flesh-Eater barks.
Human.
The word croaks from deep within his throat, splintering through the cracks in his fangs. Disgusted. Curious. Perhaps amused, if it’s possible for mermen to feel something so closely related to joy. The Flesh-Eater takes ahold of my chin and jerks my face to his so I can smell the sour blood on his breath. When he slides his viscous lips against mine, I keep deadly still. My teeth grate together, but it’s only seconds before I feel flesh crawling along my tongue. I can taste the decay in him.
The Flesh-Eater rips away from me and spits. He swipes his shark tail in the air and bares his saliva-stringed fangs. He can taste the humanity in me just as I can taste the demon in him. At his outburst, a call of laughter spills from the ocean, ricocheting off the Saad and blowing through her sails. The music climbs and my heart clinches.
My mother’s long tentacles spill over the deck like oil, familiar tribal tattoos cutting across her skin. Her crown sits gloriously sharpened, crawling down the length of her back in a magnificent headdress. She grasps the trident and stares at me with eyes like pits.
“Don’t look so frightened, darling.” The Sea Queen bears her fangs to a smile. “Mother’s here.”