Page 65 of Between Salt and Serenades
“That’s when your elders came to land to settle matters once and for all. Since then, we thought we were living in times of peace. It has been years, so what I don’t understand is, why are the sirens still fighting a one-sided, imaginary war?” he asked.
“Imaginary,” I scoffed. “You’re lucky I like you, fisherman. Say that to the wrong siren, and you’ll lose your life.”
“Noted,” Rory said. “I had no intention on bringing it up with the hybrids, that’s for certain.”
“And I suppose they’re the ones to blame, aren’t they? You more than anyone should know our war isn’t imaginaryorone-sided. It may have not been your idea to drain the sea of its fish, but you sure are making your impact, whether you’re proud of it or not.”
Rory flinched, and his mouth gaped as if he was about to stand up for himself but thought better of it.
“We were also under the impression that we’d reached an agreement of peace years ago, until the fish started disappearing. We had no one but the humans to blame, since it was you humans who were steering the ships and tossing nets into the water. What did you expect us to do, to think? Our hatred has remained as strong as ever,” I said.
“Rightfully so, I admit.” Rory cleared his throat and eyed over my tea.
“I think we can all agree that both sides are guilty of their own grievances, but all three of us know better now,” Zellia said, grabbing a shortbread cookie off the plate and handing one to Rory. “What did you find out while on your ship, captain?”
Rory took the buttery cookie and flashed Zellia a soft smile. My eyes darted from him, to her, to the cookie, and back at him again. They narrowed, but my mouth remained closed.
“Nothing but bad news, I’m afraid. The nets are intact again,” he admitted, coming to take a seat with us at the wooden table littered with empty bowls of food. He took in the sight but said nothing about us raiding his kitchen. “I thought I must have gone to the wrong enclosure—got turned around somehow—but after I visited the third net, I knew what I was seeing.”
“Intact? How?” I sputtered. When we’d left the enclosure, Breena had sawed right through the rope netting. We’d watched the frayed pieces as they sank through the water.
“I don’t know how else to explain it, but I think the enclosures are enchanted. I’d always wondered how they managed to hold so many creatures and why the fish seemed drawn to them but I never wanted to spend my time concerned with the horrible things. My own guilt, I admit.”
“I wanted to test my theory, so I used one of my smaller nets and relocated a few fish outside of the enclosures. I sat and watched as the fish swam right back inside their former prison. Swam rightthroughthe net,” he continued, his skin flushed.
“The nets are enchanted?” I said under my breath. “The fish can swim into them but not out. Did you try cutting them again?”
Rory cracked his knuckles and released a heavy breath as he said, “That had been my next move. The darn thing justshimmered and reappeared whole again a few minutes later, like I’d never severed it in the first place.”
“Sid…” Zellia’s pink lips quivered until she placed a steadying hand on top of them.
“Yeah, I know,” I reached for her free hand and gave it a squeeze. The lump forming in my throat matched her weary expression.
Rory raised his hand just past his shoulder and said, “I don’t read minds. What are you thinking?”
“The netted enclosures are massive, and there’s twenty-three of them. Making mass enchantments like that takes major skill and power. In order to keep up that many, there must be more hybrids working on this than we’d ever imagined,” I said.
“The hybrids have orchestrated this illusion of war under all our noses,” Zellia said with narrowed blue eyes. “The question is: why? And where have they been hiding?”
“Our elders have no interest in aiding us, but we have someone who might,” I said, biting my lip.
“Who?” Zellia and Rory asked simultaneously.
“Our grandfather.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
DO YA LIKE SAUSAGE?
Rory wandered into the kitchen with a ceramic mug teetering in his left hand. He rubbed his eyes with his free fist, letting a yawn sneak out in the process.
“Doin’ okay this mornin’?” he asked with that lazy lilt of his.
“Yeah, areyou?” I eyed over his slovenly appearance and weary expression.
“There’s no fatigue a bit of fresh sea breeze can’t fix.” He took a sip of his still-steaming tea. I’d only been in the kitchen for a few minutes, and I wondered how long he’d been up, or if he’d even slept at all. From the darkened circles under his eyes, it seemed unlikely rest had found him.
“Except you need to remain here with Breena while Zellia and I head to our grandfather’s shop. That fresh sea breeze will have to wait,” I said, patting the man on one of his slouched shoulders.
