Salt and Blood

Chapter Three

A bitter sting of mortality slaps me in the face when my eyes open. I’m sitting upright on damp wooden floorboards in a dank, iron cast cell. It doesn’t take much for me to realize I’m stuck in the hull of fairly large ship. My body sways back and forth with the rise and fall of each wave beneath me. Crates full of supplies are stacked five to six feet high from bow to stern, only leaving a singular pathway to a set of rickety stairs. My stomach churns when I look to the left, observing Xena and Elani propped up against the metal bars of our enclosure with their eyes closed. I lean forward only to find my wrists are shackled together behind me through the metal slats. The commotion wakes Xena and Elani and they silently gaze at me with sadness across the cell.

I close my eyes and push my head back against the bars. “How long have I been out?”

“About five hours or so,” Elani answers, settling back like she’s accepted she’s not going anywhere. “They’re taking us to Nero, for whatever reason.”

My mouth runs dry at the mention of our destination. It’s the one place I don’t want to be. My past will tear me apart limb from limb if I set foot on the filthy grounds of our capitol. “Do they know what we are?”

Xena shakes her head. “Not yet, but they will soon enough. Daylight is only an hour away, so we’ll be forced to shift.”

I grind my teeth and shimmy myself up all the way. I scrape my fingernails along the planks holding this ship together, searching for a worn piece to use. My index finger finally catches on a splintering edge and I wrench it upwards, splitting a pointed sliver from the hull.

“They’re not going to find out. I’ll get us off this ship before daylight breaks,” I mutter as I insert the tip into the lock on my cuffs and twist it around. “Did they carry anything off the island? Any cargo from the mountain that we know of?”

“I don’t know,” Xena answers, “But whatever they came for, they got. The four of us just woke up on this ship and…”

I glance over at her sullen face as I continue working on the lock. “The four of us? Where’s Adria?”

Elani swallows hard. “She bled out and died two hours ago. They came down here, took her body and threw her overboard.”

I angrily bite my tongue, working even harder to free myself from the constraints that bind me. I wish I had the ability to truly mourn the death of others, but I don’t. Not anymore. I’ve been alive over two centuries and lost enough to harden me into a piece of chiseled marble. I’ve spent a decent portion of my life being beaten, tortured and molded into living ammunition, so mortality isn’t something I find myself burdened with. I find a mission, stick to it, and complete said mission, no matter the body count.

Through the course of my life, I’ve been in a lot of tight spots, but this situation is one of the direst. This ship is pulling me further and further from Freyja, and that distance is a luxury I can’t afford. That is, if the assets are still there.

The lock finally gives way and the constraints shimmy off my wrists. I pull my arms back in front of me and scramble over to the door with the same lucky sliver of wood. I insert the pointed tip into the outer keyhole on the cell and work on my perfected technique. It’s worked every other time I’ve had to break out of a jail cell, so why not now?

Two to the left, once to the right, another three to the left and…

It pops open.

I swing the hefty metal door ajar and rush over to the opposite side of the cell where Xena and Elani are bound. I pick the lock in a succinct manner, freeing them in no time. When they stand and jog out of the cell, I turn to face them with seriousness.

“We have to inspect every chest down here. It’s imperative to know if they made it up the mountain and got ahold of anything,” I instruct. They cast each other a nervous side glance, knowing they’re up against unavoidable daylight. They want to scramble on deck and jump overboard pronto, but that’s not going to happen yet. My face goes stoic and my voice stern. “That wasn’t a suggestion, it’s an order.”

My icy reaction is enough for them to back down without a word. We silently divide and conquer the hull of the ship, inspecting every single crate resembling the ones our captors had onshore. Xena and Elani might disdain the idea of dying down here, but they don’t understand the gravity of the situation. If the assets I’ve been guarding on Freyja are on this ship and headed to Nero, there’s no way in hell anyone is leaving this vessel alive. I’ll be forced to end us all.

 Lid by lid, I pry back the nailed wooden trunks until my fingers bleed from the strain. So far, I’ve found nothing of any real value and neither have my girls. Some heavily salted meats, a few boxes of fruit, random jewelry, books that’ve been worn over time, and disappointingly enough, no weaponry. I push the last box shut and sigh with relief anyways. This crew might be headed for Nero, but they’re probably nothing more than experienced pillagers. They settled for unimportant trinkets, so it’s obvious that they’re ignorant of the valuable assets. They don’t know what real priceless items take up residence on Freyja.

I inch my way up the creaking timber ladder that leads to the main deck, each step bowing slightly under my weight. My palms gently guide the hatch door upwards and I scrutinize the ship through a thin slat of vision. Two thick masts stand erect in the center of the ship and enclosed living quarters belonging to the captain lie situated on the bow. A few glass windows span the entrance as an amber smolder from an oil lamp pulsates behind the panes. The crew’s accommodations are tucked away at the stern and thankfully it’s still dark inside. The lilac glow of the sunrise brimming east reminds me how little time Xena and Elani have to get back into the ocean. If they don’t, they’ll shift down here and I won’t be able to get them into the water. They’ll die of dehydration and expose our existence as Sirens.

Once the coast is clear as it’ll ever be, I push the hatch door open, gently resting it atop the deck. I climb out and usher the girls up behind me, still scanning the ship for any crew members. Trade winds from the west fling curled tendrils of hair around my face as we hustle over to the port side of the ship. The massive white sails stay taut on the masts, drilling us towards a destination I’m about to disembark. I gaze down into the aquamarine waves as they crumble into a salty spray against the exterior hull, quickly glancing over my shoulder at Xena.

“Go,” I whisper. She nods, jumping up onto the railing and nosediving over the edge. Elani follows suit and she tumbles effortlessly into the ocean behind Xena. I spring up onto the misty polished wood and wrap my right palm around the frayed rope shroud. I lean forward with anticipation as the sun peers over the ocean. I release my grip on the shroud, loading my legs to jump, but I don’t move. A hand snatches me around the waist and throws me to the deck with a thud. I roll to my knees and growl underneath my breath, casting a hateful glare up at a girl with mocha skin and short black hair. My eyes flicker down to her side. She’s holding a dagger cloaked in midnight with strikes of voltaic yellow lightning ripping through the blade.

She’s holding my knife.

I grin at the thought of someone else injuring me with a weapon that was hand tailored for myself. As I stand up, she whips it out in self-defense. I’m not worried. That knife won’t be the one to kill me, and for whatever reason, she doesn’t want to kill me either. No one on this ship does or I’d be dead already.

“Where are the other two with you?” she barks.

“They jumped overboard, just as I’d like to do.”

Her brown eyes widen and she glances over the side of the ship. She’s trying to figure out why any of us would want to leap to our drowning deaths. She doesn’t know we won’t die; that we’re actually at home in the water.

I seize her moment of distraction and whip my arm out, snatching the wrist wielding the dagger out of midair. She lands a punch across the side of my face with her free hand, but I hardly feel a thing. I grasp onto her other forearm and send my forehead crashing into her nose, shattering the cartilage underneath. She gasps in a daze as blood spills from her nostrils and trickles onto the deck. I twist her around so her back is pressed against my chest and I pry the dagger from her palm. I tightly wrap my arm around her neck so she can’t free herself or move. When the metallic shift of a bolt action rifle clicks into firing mode behind us, I flip us both 180 degrees and press the tip of the dagger into her jugular.

“Let her go. Now,” the captain demands as she stands between the two masts. Her chest length, strawberry blonde dreadlocks rest on her right shoulder and her white crop top flutters in the wind. She’s aiming the loaded rifle at us as we hover in a standoff. Whether it holds lethal ammunition or more tranquilizers, I don’t know. There’s only one way to find out.

I jab the tip of the blade into the black haired girl’s neck a little more and she whimpers. The captain grits her teeth and takes a few steps forward, but I meet her with an equal shuffle backwards closer to the port side.

“I swear to God, I’ll kill you,” the captain seethes.

My lip curves into a smirk and I scoff. “No, you won’t. You’re not a good enough shot to hit me without hitting her.”

She rolls the rifle in hand, tilting her head to the side. “Maybe killing you is more important than her life.” The girl I’m holding goes stiff, but I nod in appreciation. That was a bold move. I didn’t take the captain as one to sacrifice the life of her own and I still don’t truly believe it. I’m going to call her bluff.

“Maybe,” I shrug, “but, realistically I think you value her life. You won’t risk killing her.”

She places her finger on the trigger, her skin turning white from the pressure. Meanwhile, I stand as calm and still as the eye of a hurricane, patiently waiting to see if the storm will swallow me up whole. At this point, I’m practically begging her to shoot.

As anticipated, she gradually lowers the rifle to a stationary position as her bright, seafoam shaded irises leer at me with anger. The double doors leading to the crew’s quarters open and the remaining women less than two dozen in number file out onto the deck. As they emerge, I see something that causes my demeanor to shift instantly.

Three wooden chests identical to the ones unloaded on Freyja sit, chained, locked and stacked against the inner wall. My grip tightens around the handle of the dagger even more and my frenzied glare snaps back to the captain.

“What’s in the chests?”

She looks over at the items I’m inquiring about and her lip curves upward slightly. She stays silent as the remainder of the crew looks on, refusing to answer my question. I grind my jaw and drag the very tip of the blade against the girls’ neck, drawing a tiny line of blood as she squeaks in pain.

“What’s in the f*****g chests?” I growl.

“Judging by your reaction, I’d say you already know,” she answers. My stomach drops out from underneath me and I slowly shake my head.

They’re on the ship…all of them.

I swallow back the bile rising in my throat, fully realizing what this means. This ship can’t dock in Nero and the cargo will no longer be safe on Freyja either. If Reign gets his hands on the items in those crates, all hope is lost.

I have to destroy this vessel and everyone on it. It’s my only choice.

I shove the black haired girl forward and kick her away from me. The knife clatters from my hand and onto the deck. I don’t need it anymore. I don’t need anything anymore. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and focus. 

“Don’t just stand there, chain her!” the captain snaps. A few women rush over and latch onto my arms, but they all jolt their hands back with a whimper.

“What the hell...” one of them mutters as she rubs her palm. 

Every loose hair on my body rises into the sky. Tiny molecules of electricity course through my veins and the atmosphere surrounding me charges with little bursts of white galvanic energy. The eccentric neon yellow tattoo on my sternum throbs underneath the thin black fabric of my tank top. I drop to my knees, pressing my palms into the waterlogged wood for support and grounding. The ship gently vibrates underneath me and everyone glances around in confusion. One by one, they back away with trepidation as my breaths become strained and quick.

I’ve never taken things this far before, but I know what I’m capable of. I have the capacity for total destruction on the open sea, and I intend to use it, even if it kills me.

On the starboard side of the ship, a woman gasps while shakily pointing her finger towards the sky. The greying clouds twirl about in an annular pattern as three distinct circles form a triangle around the ship. Lightning cracks through the center of each hole as they gradually dip downwards towards the ocean. Fingers of billowing mist touch the waves and tiny cyclones emerge, quickly increasing in diameter. With each passing second, they gain more traction, drawing the dense saltwater all the way up into the clouds. Electric pulses ripple through the massive, tightly wound cylinders of water, and each violent waterspout begins converging on the ship.

Capillaries in my eyes and nose rupture from the mental strain. My arms throb as sharp fin tips puncture through the skin on my forearms. The seams of my jeans tear apart as my legs forcefully adhere together and violet scales consume the lower half of my body. My feet fuse at the ankles and an opaque amethyst tailfin flops down onto the deck. A spiny dorsal fin tears its way through my flesh from my calves up to my lower back.

Whispers of disbelief and panic consume the ship. The wind violently picks up around this floating speck in the ocean and the three waterspouts triangulate in a rotating motion towards us. The captain snatches the rifle off the deck and drops to her knee.

“Hoist the damn sails!” she shouts.

Footsteps scramble around the deck as they try to save themselves from my wrath. Blood now spills from my eyes, nose, mouth and ears in a steady stream onto the planks beneath my palms. Trembling, I open my eyes to see the deteriorating world around me now stained red. I stare at the three chests in the crews’ quarters through the spaces in between people’s frantic legs. By now, the cyclones are so close they’re ripping siding from the ship and cracking the masts at the center. Sound is sucked out of the atmosphere with the force of three freight trains and everything around me whirls in chaos.

This isn’t exactly how I envisioned the end of my days would be. Part of me feels like this has all been a colossal waste of time. I spent two centuries guarding something that’s about to disappear off the face of the map, and it was all for nothing. I sacrificed peace just to watch everything crash and burn by my own hand.

A piercing sting pinches my hip. I don’t need to break focus to know it’s a tranquilizer dart. This only makes me push harder. A frosted ring of pure energy surges from my chest, exploding outward and leveling everyone to the deck or flinging them overboard. I scream out in agony as I beacon the waterspouts towards us even faster.

Another bee sting bites my side. Then another, and another.

The bowsprit of the ship snaps in half and the rigging is ripped from the only mast still standing. A few women cling to the railings of the ship as turbulence concocted from a mixture of wind, waves and razor sharp blades of water try to wrench them from their positions.

Annihilation is inevitable.

On the fifth dart, my focus begins to wane. I crumble to my forearms and my fins caress the deck. I drag my fingertips across the slick planking. It’s so smooth…so inviting. My cheek rests against the wooden pillow and I smile. I’m ready for this.

I’m ready to die again. Hopefully this time, it’s for good.