Page 2 of Siren Problems
He opens his mouth, probably to say something dramatic and grumpy, but then a second voice echoes down the stairs.
“Calder, who are you yelling at now? Did a gull steal your socks again?”
A woman appears behind him. Elven, maybe. Long platinum braid, floral romper, giant hoop earrings. She leans against the banister with a juice bottle that’s glowing slightly.
She sees me and grins. “Oh hey! You must be the witchy science girl.”
“Not a witch,” I mutter. “Just very curious and moderately underfunded.”
“I’m Kaiya—Kai. I run The Sip & Spell in town. This grumpy fishstick is Calder Thorne. Don’t let the face fool you—he’s just emotionally constipated.”
Calder’s jaw clenches. “Kai.”
She waves a hand. “Relax. She’s cute. Let her stay.”
“Already staying,” I say sweetly, patting the banister. “Feel free to keep your shirt off, though. Adds ambiance.”
Calder mutters something that sounds likeI should’ve stayed in the oceanand disappears down the hall.
Kai descends the stairs with the grace of someone who’s tripped over them before. “Ignore him. He’s not used to people. Or smiling. Or women who talk back.”
“Lucky for me I’m great at being insufferable.”
She laughs. “You’re gonna fit in fine, Luna.”
She leaves with a wink and a promise to bring “welcome shots” from her potion bar. I don’t ask what’s in them.
The house settles into silence again, though I swear I can still feel Calder brooding from upstairs like a thundercloud with abs. I plug in my scanner, and it hums to life, flickering in pulses that match the nearby ley waves. Stronger than I expected. Something deep is moving here, beneath the tides and time.
I lean against the window frame, gaze out at the rocky shore.
This town is weird.
The ley lines are volatile.
My upstairs neighbor might be cursed, unhinged, or both.
And I’ve never felt more alive.
—
By dusk, the air thickens with humidity and something else—something electric. I finish calibrating the aura resonance scanner, its crystal tips flickering between blue and violet as it aligns with the local ley field.
Then the signalspikes.
Like, off-the-charts spikes. The scanner lights up like a Christmas tree having a panic attack and starts smoking around the edges.
“Shit, shit,no—” I yank the power core out, fingers singeing slightly. My palm is buzzing, like I stuck it in a ley socket.
I fumble for my backup handheld, a janky prototype I rigged from a salt crystal, a compass, and a stolen gnome amplifier. It’schirping so loud I can hear it over the ocean breeze. Whatever’s happening out there is big. Bigger than my thesis ever predicted.
I grab a flashlight, curse the fact that my boots are still wet from earlier, and sprint out the front door. The cliffs behind the house are sharp, jagged, andsinging—not literally, but close. The ley lines here aren’t humming anymore. They’rechanting.
“Okay, okay,” I pant, following the readings as the device vibrates harder with each step. “What are you, huh? Sea sprite with a caffeine addiction? Dormant fae hotspot? Surprise underwater portal?”
Then I see it.
Just offshore, past the tide pools, a faint greenish glow pulses beneath the water like a heartbeat. The rocks beneath my feet shiver. I kneel, holding my scanner toward the light.
