The bartender leans forward and places one elbow on the bar. He chews his lip as his eyes dart back and forth around the room. He slowly slides the coins off of the table and tucks them into his pocket.
“She’ll be here soon,” he whispers darkly.
Ladon and I exchange glances. Then lean in as well. “Who will be here soon?” Ladon asks.
He takes a deep breath, as if speaking these words makes him nervous. “The man-eater.”
“The man-eater?” I ask, my jaw dropping open. “Are you talking about the siren?”
He nods slowly. “Whatever you want to call her. She’s coming. I can feel it.”
“What makes you say that?” Asks Ladon.
“A ship was due into port last week, but it never arrived,” he says under his breath. “And every time that happens, she appears… walking around town like she owns the place.
