Page 113 of A Storm in Every Heart
She walks toward me and there’s something wild, almost catlike in the way she moves. It’s frightening and yet familiar; I see echoes of myself in her. Her eyes are violet like mine, her face is heart-shaped and symmetrical, and her figure is full and curvy. At a distance, she couldbeme.
She takes a step onto the sand, then hesitates. Then, she crosses the beach between us and silently kneels on the sand in front of me. Close, but still just out of reach, her arms resting lightly on her knees.
The silence between us stretches taut as a bowstring.
I want to speak, but my mouth is dry and the words die in my throat.
Would the siren even understand me if I spoke?
I’ve never worried about being understood before, as the continent of Ellender is enchanted with universal language, butsuddenly I’m uncertain if that enchantment would extend to creatures of the sea.
I open my mouth, unsure what to say. What comes out is a breathless, garbled question: “How did you know I was here?”
The siren flexes her jaw and clears her throat, as if she’s not used to speaking. She clears her throat. “We always know when one of us enters the water. We can feel every part of the sea…can’t you feel it?”
“No.” I shake my head automatically, but even as I do, I realize that perhaps she’s right. I can feel…something, I think. I can’t see all the sirens in the distance, but I know they’re there, watching us.
The siren frowns at me, and again, it takes a moment for her to form the words, but when she does speak it’s clearer than before. “You’ll feel it once you’ve returned to the water.”
My eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”
“We’ve come to welcome you back,” the siren says.
I shake my head. “No. I don’t want to go into the sea. I was just…curious.”
She looks troubled. “But dear, the water is where you belong.”
I recoil slightly. “Dear” is a far too familiar thing to be called from this strange, beautiful monster.
“No, it isn’t. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here.” The words come out brittle, hollow in my chest. I stagger to my feet, brushing sand off my legs with hands that can’t decide whether they want to tremble or clench into fists.
With a grace I’ll never possess, the siren gets to her feet and stands directly in front of me.
She’s taller than I am by a head, and even in the uncertain moonlight, I can see the faint lines around her mouth, the pale webbing of scars at her wrists and throat. She’s impossibly beautiful, but I’m sure that she’s far older than she looks.Certainly older than me—maybe by decades or maybe by centuries.
“We don’t belong on land, Odessa,” she says almost kindly.
I stiffen. “How do you know my name?”
She ignores my question, continuing as if I didn’t speak. “You don’t belong here and you never did. You can pretend, but the sea will take you back. Sooner or later, it always does.”
“It can’t take me back if I never lived there to begin with.”
She cocks her head. “I don’t understand. Youbelongin the sea.”
“No.”
“Why?” she asks, seeming earnest.
“I’m not like you, I have a life here. Family… and people who matter to me.”
She tilts her head, her expression unreadable. “Your family is in the water. You have people here who matter to you now, but they won’t last forever.”
“What does that mean?” I demand.
“No one here will ever truly understand you. Sooner or later you’ll find a way to destroy anyone you care for on land. Some of us do it with teeth,” she adds, flexing her webbed fingers, “and some with songs so beautiful they rot the heart from inside.”
It’s the closest thing to a warning I’ve ever been given, and it cuts deep.
