Page 68 of Between Salt and Serenades
“That’s for sure.” I straightened my spine and spoke clearly. “Please tell me you know something that will help us.
“I may know where these hybrids of yours are laying low.”
Zellia shot me a look of hope, and I was hesitant to return it. I did, however, lean forward in my seat until I was just one step away from standing.
“I’m not sure if the place I speak of is still around, but there used to be a congregation spot for sirens on land. Your father would frequent it during long stints in Barthoah. The place was built as a safe haven for sirens to rehydrate their skin in saltwater pools hidden within the rocky caves just out of town.”
“You think that’s where they’ve been hiding?” I said as a question, though I knew his theory was sound. If there was aplace hidden away on land for sirens, that had to be where the hybrids were dwelling. Especially now, since my pod no longer returned to land, we’d be none the wiser of their existence, or their growing numbers.
“Sounds likely to me,” Zellia chimed in. Wallace nodded his head, his face unmoving.
“What are you thinking?” I asked, evaluating his aged features.
“If that is where they’ve been hiding, you’re likely walking right into a trap.”
“Mmm. Unless they don’t realize we’re against them,” I said, turning to my sister. “Zellia and I have been lying to our parents for years. I think we could put on a performance for the hybrids for one afternoon. Don’t you, Zel?”
Zellia’s lips drew in and then parted, as if she was about to protest my claims. Then, a sneaky smirk lifted the corners of her mouth, and she bowed her head in agreement.
“I’m in.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
INTO THE DRAGON’S DEN
Zellia and I stood outside the cave entrance, seeing the flicker of light emanating from within. Her chin pointed toward me, and the briefest look of uncertainty flashed across her bright blue eyes. The emotion was as fleeting as my sudden doubt. Hers was replaced by hardened, narrowed eyes in the form of determination, and mine sank deep into my bones before settling into resolve.
She reached for my hand, and the two of us took our first step forward across crushed rock. The thin soles of our slippers ground dusty pebbles into the cave floor below us as we sank farther and farther into the depths of the cave. The humidity of the day cooled into crisp air, and the sound of crashing waves behind us melted into a soft trickle up ahead.
The light within grew brighter as we walked, and my ears picked up the faintest sound of music pinging off the rock walls in distorted, eerie moans. Our gazes crossed again now that we had the confirmation we sought. The caves were inhabited.
We approached the end of the tunnel and stared off at where our path broke into two. I squeezed Zellia’s hand before I dropped it and stooped down. Under our feet, the rock was now damp. I took several steps forward to where the wet stonedipped and water trickled through the subtle depression in the floor.
“This way,” I whispered, following the water to where the tunnel branched to the right.
It wasn’t long after that the tunnel opened into a large room dotted with several silver pools. A dozen heads turned in our direction as Zellia and I stood with our arms hanging awkwardly at our sides, having nothing to offer our audience but our presence.
The cave dwellers lounged around the pools, some fully submerged, others hanging off rocks or dipping no more than their tails into the shimmering water.Tails.
My eyes frantically scanned the woman closest to me, and my heart leapt as I saw scaled fins, webbed fingers, and a deadly sharp set of teeth as she sneered at me.
There you are.
Understanding flickered in Zellia’s eyes too, but neither of us made a move.
An older woman padded barefoot toward us. She was wrapped in wispy, sage green fabric, and she used a gnarled wooden stick to support her weight. As I listened to the clacking of wood across stone, it dawned on me for the first time how hard the harsh pull of land must have been on the bodies of elder sirens.
“Welcome,” she crooned. We took a few steps forward to shorten the woman’s journey, aware that every eye in the room was on us. When we stopped in front of her, the older woman reached up toward my face and pulled down my lower eyelid with her thumb. The sudden touch made my pupils flicker, and the woman hummed in satisfaction.
I straightened my neck to pull away from her invasive hand, but she’d already moved on, hitting Zellia in the ankle with hercane. Zellia didn’t hold back a hiss as the wood struck her outer ankle bone.
“Very good,” the woman mused then smacked her lips. She took a step back, as if to signify her inspection was done. “What are your names?”
“Sidra, and that’s Zellia,” I said. My chin pointed toward my sister, and I did my very best to keep a hiss out of my own tone. My patience for this woman was growing thinner with each passing moment, but I was all too aware of the hushed chatter that surrounded us.
“Do forgive our weariness of an unfamiliar presence. It’s not often that we get visitors. But we’re always happy to welcome new sirens to our sanctuary,” she croaked. I wondered what a song would sound like coming from that rough throat of hers, if she had a song at all.
“Of course. As sirens, we can never be too careful in times like this,” I said, digging my fingernails into my palms to hide the nerves boiling up from all the wandering gazes in this place.
