Chapter Eleven

Soule looked at the three of them as she came up. They were all staring at her. She slowed.

“What?” she said.

Kell sent to her, all of the images blending into one idea, showing herself, showing herself but with sharp teeth. Soule felt a jolt of fear.

“No,” she said in Dorsan, having learned that word, shaking her head.

Kell gestured to her, a come-here motion. She didn’t know why she was so afraid. Soule went to him reluctantly. Reaching up and gently drawing her lip back, using his other hand and avoiding the tip of her ear, moving down, Kell found a sensitive place behind her jaw.

He rubbed there gently, slowly and steadily, and then he pressed. Soule startled hard when she felt them come down behind the others, Kell being careful of his fingers, and then they were gone, Soule’s hand going to her mouth.

Kell touched her cheek and smiled at her, his smile fading when he saw her expression. Soule was frozen, staring at him in horror. Her eyes shifted to Winter and Isidor, beginning to breathe fast. They were looking at her like they hadn’t seen her before. Soule began backing away. She shook her head, her heart hammering, panic rising in her, Isidor and Winter looking at her like—.

Like she was a screecher with sharp teeth for eating people.

Soule felt her face twist, making a short, sharp sound of terror and disgust, her fingers going to her mouth again, feeling her teeth, her teeth like they’d always been. She wanted the others out. She whimpered as the three men got up slowly.

Isidor stepped toward her. She ran, getting past them and down into the hold, finding a place behind one of the barrels. She was breathing too fast, trying to make herself stop, trying to be quiet, more terror blooming in her.

“Soule.”

Soule cried out in fear. Isidor. His hand came toward her and she pushed it away frantically. Suddenly the barrel was gone and Winter was there. He lifted her. She felt him carrying her and then he was sitting and pulling her close. He felt warm, smelling like himself, wonderful. He was hers, good and shining like Isidor, both of them all hers, and she was evil, an evil thing, a siren who had teeth.

#

Winter’s chest was aching so sharply he felt like he couldn’t breathe, Isidor no better. Winter carried Soule into the room, putting her on their bed, both of them getting in on either side of her. She wouldn’t respond to them when they spoke to her, closing her eyes, leaking tears.

“I’ll stay with her for awhile,” Isidor said, rubbing his chest.

#

Winter went out, Kell still sitting at the table. He looked up right away. Winter sat across from him.

“I’m stupid,” Kell said to him, looking entirely disgusted with himself. “It’s natural to me. I didn’t think what a shock it is for her.”

Winter shook his head, grimacing at the pain in his chest, rubbing.

“Soule knows about the stories,” Winter said. “She hasn’t known what to think, none of us have. She’s probably scared she’s supposed to eat people. She can’t hear otherwise yet.”

“You’re hurt?” Kell asked, glancing at where Winter was rubbing his chest.

“Soule’s our anthata. When she’s upset, Isidor and I, we feel it,” Winter answered.

Kell looked interested.

“Soule said you feel her in your body, that you don’t stop wanting her.”

“She’s our anthata for our lives,” he said. “It’s a ritual.”

Kell leaned back, his mouth quirking. He gestured at the cabin.

“This is why Soule is so healthy,” Kell told him. “Because she has two men to satisfy her needs. You see her ears are longer, the points more?”

“We noticed that,” Winter said.

“She’s chosen both of you,” Kell told him. “I’ve never heard of such a thing for our women.”

“The anthata ritual wouldn’t have been possible if it weren’t right,” Winter told him.

Kell nodded.

“Soule’s second teeth is a part of what we once were,” Kell told him. “When the women would compete for the men they would fight each other. Our women are jealous.”

Kell glanced at him. He seemed to hesitate.

“What?” Winter said.

Kell gestured vaguely at the cabin, looking away.

“Our women,” Kell said, still looking away. “The second teeth lock. So you know. You don’t have to worry about them when you’re—.”

Kell stopped, gesturing vaguely once again. Winter looked down, his mouth twitching.

“That’s good to know, Kell,” Winter said. “Do me a favor and don’t tell Isidor.”

#

Isidor finally came out. Winter leaned back, Isidor meeting his eyes. Isidor nodded, coming and sitting down. They both leaned forward. Kell’s eyes shifted between them, both he and Isidor serious. Kell leaned back, his gaze assessing.

“There’s a thing you need to know,” Winter said. “Soule knows it already, but we don’t think she’s told you yet. We’ve been waiting for her to, but we think she’s scared you’ll react badly to us.”

“What?” Kell said warily.

“When we told you about the widow on the black rocks, you seemed hopeful. You thought maybe it was your mother?” Winter said.

“Yes,” Kell said, his eyes shifting between them again, surprised, pointing to the drawing on the barrel. “Our mother brought Soule to this place when she was a child, to the black rocks, twenty years ago, to meet my father. They escaped our island, you see? We are not allowed to leave. Do you know where she is?”

Winter nodded, averting his gaze a little. Kell leaned forward, watching his face. He looked at Isidor, whose eyes were also averted. Kell leaned back again, drawing a deep breath, nodding.

“I felt this. Our mother is dead,” he concluded.

“Yes,” Winter said, Isidor nodding.

“We regret your loss,” Isidor said.

Kell looked away for a long moment, getting control. He looked back at them, waiting. For an explanation, Winter knew. They weren’t looking forward to this.

“You know about Maren?” Winter asked him.

“A little,” Kell said. “Soule told me, but she’s difficult to understand. She says he loved her, that he was a kind of father?”

“Maren raised Soule like he raised us after our parents died,” Isidor said carefully, touching his Tal. “He’s the father she knows and remembers. He found her on the black rocks, took her to Nanine, protected her, adopted her, made her Siblin. She wears his Tal.”

“The necklace?” Kell said, obviously wondering where this was going.

“Yes. Siblin, we keep a place to write down every day the things we do, what happens to us,” Isidor continued. “I do it, Winter does. Maren did that. We found his journal after he died and we read it.”

“Maren wrote that he was the one killed your mother with an arrow on the black rocks,” Winter said. “He thought she was the other, thought she was going to sing him to his death. Siblin didn’t know about you, didn’t know about the widow. All he knew were the stories.”

Kell had gone very still, staring at him, those strange, light eyes, beginning to breathe hard. His gills flashed scarlet at his neck, and then again, his face expressionless. The hair raised on Winter’s arms.

“Maren was a good man, but he made a bad mistake,” Winter explained. “We almost made the same one with Soule. The widow has caused death and pain to our people for two hundred fifty years.”

“Siblin don’t attack women, not ever,” Isidor said. “I know it doesn’t make it easier, but Maren couldn’t face what he’d done once he realized it, raising Soule. He hid on that island to protect Soule, but we think he also hid from us because he was shamed.”

Winter stood up, Isidor doing the same beside him, both of them moving slowly. Kell also stood slowly, tense, his eyes locked on them, still expressionless. His gills flashed again.

“We don’t know your people’s ways,” Winter said carefully, taking in Kell’s manner. “Isidor and I, we don’t want to fight you. You’re Soule’s brother. You’re family. But your mother is dead by Maren’s hand and we’re his sons and your grievance is real. We’ll do what’s required.”

Winter turned and walked to the cabin, the space between his shoulder blades prickling, although Kell didn’t carry a knife. He didn’t have to. He had teeth. Webbed fingers and claws in his other form as well, a powerful swimmer, and if he got one of them in the water having a knife was not going to save them. Winter made it to the cabin door. He looked behind himself.

The deck was empty.

Winter felt another stab of worry for a different reason. He didn’t know what he was going to tell their anthata if her brother didn’t come back to her.

#

Soule didn’t come out of the cabin and Kell didn’t come back. He and Isidor ended up working, nothing else to do, the ship one long ongoing repair and maintenance task. In the morning, Winter woke. The pain in his chest hadn’t eased. Soule was awake but she wasn’t moving. She was turned toward Isidor, her eyes closed. They both rolled toward her.

“Soule,” Isidor said.

Soule opened her eyes. She turned away from Isidor and curled up on her side toward Winter, her eyes closing again.

“Enough, Anthata,” Winter said firmly. “You need to face your fear.”

Soule turned onto her back between them, opening her eyes.

“Your brother has sharp teeth,” Isidor observed, stroking her cheek.

“For hunting fish,” she accused the ceiling.

Isidor’s mouth quirked.

“What are you thinking Soule?” Winter said. “Will you say it aloud?”

“That I’m a scree—,” she said.

“You are not,” Winter interrupted her, unwilling to hear her say that word, grimacing, rubbing his chest.

Soule sat up slowly, staring at him.

“I’m hurting you?” she said, turning to Isidor. “Both of you?”

“It’s nothing, little siren,” Winter said, dropping his hand.

Soule pulled her knees up, putting her forehead on them, breathing. After awhile, Winter felt the pain in his chest ease a little, Isidor giving him a glance, both of them relieved. Soule turned her head, looking at Winter sidelong. She sighed, rubbing her eyes, letting her hands drop onto the coverlet.

“Do you know why I have sharp teeth?” she asked him.

“Your brother says it’s leftover from when you would fight other females that would try to take us from you,” Winter answered.

Soule stared at him, her nose wrinkling, looking at Isidor.

“Evidently sirens are jealous,” Isidor confirmed.

Soule frowned. Her hands went to her braid, which had come undone, beginning to loosen it from the bottom, running her hands through it. Winter reached and got her comb, handing it to her. She combed through it slowly, which always seemed to calm her. Both of them watched her, enjoying her beauty. The pain eased more. Then it flared badly, both of them hiding it.

“Does it bother you?” she asked, looking at the comb in her hands.

Isidor took the comb from her and tossed it to him, Winter catching it and setting it aside as Isidor took her waist, rolling her on top of himself so she was straddling him.

“Last time I checked I’m not female,” Isidor answered her, his hands going to her hips, pushing up on her a little from below as evidence, evidently. “Nor Winter, although I did see him wearing a dress once.”

“Don’t tell her that,” Winter objected, sending his brother a glance.

“It was twenty years ago and we were in the Southron lands—,” Isidor began.

“Nineteen years ago,” Winter corrected him.

“You don’t get to tell the story, you’ll leave out the part about the dress,” Isidor said.

“Get it right if you’re going to tell it, brother,” Winter retorted. “And I get to tell the one about when you fell off Lowen’s ship into the water because you were so drunk.”

“First, yes, I was drunk, but you pushed me, second you’ve already just told it, there’s nothing more that you didn’t put it in after, and third it’s not that funny, even Lowen said so,” Isidor said, both of them feeling the pain in their chests easing more.

“You were wearing a dress?” Soule said.

She looked sidelong at Winter, who sat up and reached and pulled her dress off over her head, threading her hair through and tossing it on the chair, sending Isidor a dark glance.

“I wasn’t wearing it, I just had it draped over me—,” Winter explained, gesturing with his hands.

“You should have seen the color,” Isidor interrupted happily, his hands going to her waist, his eyes on her tits. “It didn’t suit him at all. Remember that dress you had in Malana, my beauty, the pink? Except his legs were hairy.”

“Awful,” Winter agreed.

The pain eased altogether, Soule giving a husky laugh.

“There’s my beauty,” Isidor said, his hands cupping her breasts.

“I have to use the privy,” Soule said, glancing at the door, squirming her hips.

Isidor grinned. They loved how she said that. Isidor put his arms through her legs and scooting them both down and then just himself until he was between them, her pussy directly over him, spreading her lips with his thumbs and leaning up to lick her. Soule flinched from his mouth a little, Winter watching her nipples harden.

“I have to—,” she said, stopping when Isidor licked her again, exploring all around her clit. “Isidor....”

“You have to what, my beauty?” Isidor said, licking her more.

Her hips squirmed.

“I...I have to...,” she said. “I have to—.”

She stopped talking altogether as Isidor touched the tip of her clit with his tongue, tickling her.

“Please,” she breathed, her head falling back, her tits rising, all that hair spilling behind her onto Isidor’s belly as Isidor sucked her clit.

Isidor withdrew slowly, another long slow lick, savoring her, Winter just as aroused.

“Since you asked so nicely, my beauty,” Isidor said.

He scooted up and took her hips, passing her to Winter who rolled her off the bed. Winter released her as she backed off him, going to the door and through it. When she was gone, Winter went to a drawer, tossing him the small bottle they’d picked up in Malana. Isidor caught it, his brows going up. They both undressed and got in bed, waiting.

Soule came back in.

“Kell’s not on the sh—,” she began and stopped as they looked at her.

Her eyes shifted between them.

“Come here, Anthata,” Winter said, putting out his hand.

Soule glanced at the door behind her, Isidor sliding out of bed and getting between her and the exit, crowding her, herding her to the bed, taking her dress off, neither of them wanting to wait to chase her down. Her sweet butt came backing toward Winter, that long fall of red hair. He snagged her hand, turning her.

Winter pulled her on top of him, Soule off-balance, her tits in his face as she got her arms under her, propping herself, Winter taking a swipe with his teeth, catching a pretty swollen nipple and sucking gently. Soule went still, her breath hitching. She was on her hands and knees over him, her legs on either side of his hips.

Isidor came behind her, kneeling, rubbing his hands all over her ass, Winter’s cock flexing under her thinking about it. Winter brought his hands up, giving full attention to her nipples, tugging, sucking and biting, Soule offering them and crying out softly, squirming her ass, arching.

Isidor’s hands were on her thighs now, running up, his hand slipping between her legs, his fingers into her pussy, Winter pulling back a little to watch, his own fingers on her nipples. She was getting slick, Isidor’s fingers pumping in and out of her, sweet catches in Soule’s breathing and small mutters of pleasure. Isidor pulled his fingers out of her and explored, rubbing her clit gently.

Soule jutted on him, Isidor’s eyes on her ass, his breathing fast. They had waited for this. Isidor’s fingers left her clit, Winter replacing them with his own, Soule never noticing, her eyes closed, her cheeks flushed, her mouth parted, lost in sensations. Winter stroked her clit lightly as Isidor returned to her pussy, pushing his fingers in, fucking her with them. Winter captured a nipple, scraping his teeth on it, tormenting her, moving to the other.

Their anthata was enjoying herself very much, offering low cries, climbing toward her climax. She pulsed on Winter’s fingers on her clit, which had become hard and very slick, her hips rocking to Isidor’s fingers in her pussy behind her.

Isidor withdrew his fingers, bringing them up, finding what he wanted, Winter’s cock jumping. Soule opened her eyes as Isidor pressed his finger into her ass, using the slick from her pussy, pumping in and out of her. Soule’s eyes closed again, liking it. They’d been doing this to her whenever they could, getting her used to it.

Her eyes opened again, going wide as Winter imagined Isidor introduced a second finger gently. She was so beautiful. Her brows crooked and then her lashes fluttered a little with pleasure, closing again, Winter almost painfully aroused. Isidor was doing it slowly, stretching her, Winter still stroking her clit. He returned his attention to her tits, sucking the full tips, Soule climbing up again.

“You like that, my beauty?” Isidor said behind her, his fingers deep in her ass, breathing heavily.

“Yes,” she choked out, moving on his fingers.

She started to hitch. Winter slowed his fingers, stopping them, Isidor pulling his fingers from her. Soule opened her eyes, arching, making needy sounds that went straight through him. Winter heard the stopper on the bottle, his heart pounding, his cock aching. He heard Isidor grunt lightly.

There was a long silence. Winter watched her face. Her tongue came out between her lips a little, her brows crooking. Winter moved up on the bed.

“Look at me,” Winter said, her head immediately coming down, her eyes opening. “Relax as much as you can.”

Her light honey eyes went wide, beginning to breathe fast. She whimpered, tensing. Winter reached up, kissing her, his hands in her hair, sensual. She relaxed a little.

“Tight, brother,” Isidor grunted behind her, going slow.

Even past the first bit, it took forever for Isidor to work his way inside her ass, Soule wincing, her breath stuttering, Winter soothing her. He heard Isidor panting behind her.

“Fuck,” Isidor muttered under his breath.

The stopper again, more oil. Soule was trembling. Winter cupped her face, kissing her gently.

“It hurts,” Soule said low.

“I know, little siren,” Winter said, his cock aching and jumping. “It will feel good, I promise. Try to relax more.”

She nodded, breathing as Isidor pressed in again, Isidor giving a small moan of pleasure. He was finally seated in her, his hips pressed against her round ass, Soule still trembling.

Isidor stayed there, not moving, his hands on her hips, breathing. Winter scooted down, reaching up with both hands and cupping her breasts, the firm swells filling his hands. He touched her nipples with his thumbs.

Isidor grunted behind her. She’d pulsed. Winter brushed them again, Soule squirming a little, and then Winter began squeezing the tips, tugging. Isidor made a muffled sound behind her. Winter leaned up and caught her nipple in his teeth, his hand going between her legs, stroking her clit again.

Isidor’s breath hissed out sharply as Soule began to press back on him, moving. She gave a small whimper of pain and then a small sound of surprise as Isidor began to rock slowly, Soule’s eyes closing. She began to voice high whines of pleasure, crying out softly, wincing, and then she was meeting him and Soule’s body came alive, her hips pumping on Isidor behind her, widening her stance, making contented noises, her clit hard under Winter’s fingers.

Winter slipped his hand down more, curling his fingers, entering her cunt with one finger and then two. She was even tighter with Isidor in her ass. Winter’s cock surged, a wave of lust and need, feeling the thin wall between her ass and her pussy, feeling Isidor’s cock against his knuckles. Isidor felt his fingers and made a sound Winter had never heard him make before, savage and helpless, increasing the speed of his thrusts.

Winter brought himself up, angling his cock with his hand, his heart beginning to pound, unbearably excited, finding her entrance. Isidor’s thrusts slowed and stopped, Isidor panting as Soule’s head came down, looking at Winter’s face. Winter held her eyes as he slowly pressed his cock into her pussy, the pleasure sharp, everything tight, sliding into her heat as Isidor carefully pulled out, both of them breathing hard as Isidor thrust gently, Winter pulling back.

They both felt it. Winter closed his eyes, a wave of such arousal going through him, both of them quiet, holding their breath, Isidor’s cock pressed against his inside her, rubbing together, exquisite. Winter shuddered with the pleasure, releasing all his breath, Isidor crying out low. He felt it again as Isidor thrust and Winter withdrew, both of them gone with it.

It was good they’d prepared her, because they were too aroused. They weren’t going to be able to hold back. Their grunts were loud in the room, both of them thrusting, rubbing on each other, finding a rhythm, Soule’s eyes glazing as Winter leaned up and caught a nipple, sucking, moving to the other. She pulsed on them, holding herself still, letting them fuck her, her eyes seeing nothing, a continuous keening coming from her, lost in pleasure.

Winter’s own breathing was ragged, his arousal keen and urgent. Isidor began to thrust rapidly, deep, Winter doing the same.

Soule went rigid between them, beginning to climax. Winter could see Isidor’s fingers digging into her hips, Soule crying out high. She clamped on them, both of them grunting, increasing their thrusts. She began to make satisfied sounds, releasing, began to pulse, constricting around them, the sensations on his cock incredible.

“Come...so hard,” Isidor got out behind her in a choked voice.

Isidor’s cock flexed in her, Winter feeling it, unable to stop his own pleasure. Winter cried out sharply as Isidor did, their voices mingling, both of them coming, straining. Winter cried out again, the pleasure overwhelming. Isidor gave a low growl and thrust again, Winter feeling it, both of them spending in her, feeling Isidor’s cock pulse against his own in their anthata. He never wanted it to end.

Isidor came down from it first, breathing heavily behind her.

“Fuck,” Isidor said a final time, his fingers slowly relaxing on her hips, leaving red marks behind.

Soule was still pulsing, her body shaking as Winter spent in her, the last of it, pulling his breath harshly, panting. They all stayed there for a long moment, not moving. Then Soule winced as Isidor pulled out of her slowly. Winter brought her down, rolling her under himself onto her back, still inside her.

When he could think again, Winter looked down at her. Soule was spread under him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes still gone a little, her red hair everywhere. Winter’s eyes searched her face, still breathing hard.

He put his forehead on hers and closed his eyes. He and Isidor loved her with everything they had in them. Winter pulled back and leaned down, kissing her, trying to tell her what he felt with it, her arms coming around his neck as she returned it, relaxing under him. He was still inside her, feeling his heart slow. He heard Isidor get on the bed beside them. Winter pulled away from her, withdrawing, his body feeling relaxed and sated.

Isidor came to her, cleaning her, inspecting her. Soule submitted to it, watching his face. Isidor closed her legs and saw the clear marks of his fingers on her hip. He frowned, touching them gently, finding them on the other side.

“I’m sorry, my beauty,” he said regretfully. “You’re going to bruise.”

She tilted her head and looked at him.

“It didn’t hurt,” she assured him.

Isidor reached out and stroked her hair, running his knuckles down her cheek.

“You’re so delicate. We don’t mark our anthata unintentionally. I will be more careful in the future.”

#

Soule looked around right away for her brother when they came out of the cabin. When she didn’t see him, Soule’s shoulders slumped, looking worried. She went to the rail, looking out to sea. After awhile, Isidor came up with food. She picked at it, her eyes going to the rail again. Isidor stood up and drew her to her feet.

“Would you like to swim in the open sea with me, my beauty?”

Winter’s brows went up. Siblin rarely did it. There were tides and a ship could drift away from swimmers. And the sea was the sea, Sága, endless, the center of everything, land only on her edges. Home to all sorts of creatures that they were happy to see from the ship, above the water, and nice and far away. Winter looked at Soule’s face, which sparked with excitement.

“We can?” she said.

That settled it, Isidor stripping and going over the side first, down the ladder. Soule copied him exactly, Winter’s mouth quirking, and followed, naked, that hair all around her, the ship rocking, both of them watching her carefully. She put her foot in the water.

“Cold,” she remarked.

Isidor laughed, not far. He dove and came up under her as she slipped into the water, putting her arms around his neck when he surfaced, Isidor pulling her naked body against his, kissing her.

Soule was a strong swimmer, and she was soon diving under, her bottom rising sweet, her pale form under the water, her tits floating, looking like so many paintings of sirens Winter lost himself a little, watching her. She struck out from the ship, Isidor following, staying close to her.

Winter saw it. A form shooting from open water to meet them, moving so fast, a dark wavering shadow.

“Isidor!” Winter called, pointing.

Isidor put Soule in front of him, both of them swimming to the ship. Winter turned and grabbed the wheel buoy, a canvas bag with cork shavings, throwing it, Isidor catching it and putting it around her as Winter pulled the line. Winter watched, his heart pounding, as the form reached them, Isidor without even his knife, and then he recognized what it was and then Kell surfaced.

Soule immediately went under the buoy and surfaced beside him, her eyes lighting to see him. Isidor blew out his breath, looking annoyed, Winter watching grimly. Kell looked up at Winter and caught his expression, looking at Isidor, and then at Soule, realizing. He smirked a little.

Soule was smiling at Kell, who was swimming around her in circles, and Winter heard her husky giggle, obviously delighting her brother as well, who splashed her. She splashed back and dove, swimming away from him and from the ship, Winter leaning forward. Kell surfaced, looking at Winter.

“She is safe,” Kell called. “My sister is safe in the sea with me.”

Kell came in front of her, speaking to her in their silent way. He turned around and Soule put her hands on his shoulders. He dove, both Winter and Isidor leaning forward to watch, but Kell stayed shallow and, in comparison to how fast he had been going, swam slowly. He surfaced and they saw Soule catch her breath and then heard the distant sound of her laughter.

Winter didn’t think her brother would take Soule from them, and certainly not here. She couldn’t survive in open water. But he had to admit he’d be pleased when she was on the ship. Kell finally swam her back, delivering her to the ladder. Isidor stayed at the rail to hand her up and Winter went and got a clean cloth, meeting her and rubbing her down, rinsing her hair with fresh water he brought, squeezing the water out of her hair as Kell came up the ladder.

Soule was flushed and breathing, pleased, unbearably beautiful, grinning at Winter. Winter smiled back at her, seeing Kell give him a surprised glance—people always did when he smiled, like he couldn’t—and she lit up, Winter pulling her close, his naked anthata smelling of seawater and sunlight and Soule.

Isidor came and took her hand, leading her into the cabin, and when she came out her wet hair was combed and in a braid and she was in her linen pants and shirt, carrying Maren’s lyre. Kell brightened to see it. Soule went to the prow where she liked to play and sing, curling up.

Winter went and leaned against the rail. Kell joined him. They were both quiet for awhile.

“We’re pleased you’re inclined to peace,” Winter said to him.

“Siblin don’t have a word for what you are to Soule,” Kell said, “but we do. I would never hurt her like that.”

“We do have a word for it,” Winter said. “We just don’t say it aloud to others, you understand? It’s a secret.”

Kell nodded. They were quiet again.

“You didn’t have to tell me about our mother,” Kell said. “You could have kept this from me. I would never have learned what happened to her.”

Winter squinted at him.

“We searched for twenty years for Maren,” Winter replied. “We know what it’s like not to be able to find someone, not to know.”

Kell looked away.

“I think that Soule is all the family I have,” Kell said. “Our father would have looked for our mother and Soule on the black rocks, would never have stopped searching for her. If the widow is there, and if she saw him, my father would not have survived her song.”

Winter winced.

“Are you going to tell your people about the widow?” Winter asked him.

Kell didn’t answer for a time.

“I can’t go home,” Kell finally said.

“Why not?”

“It’s forbidden for us to leave our island,” Kell said. “If we manage to escape it, we can’t return. My father knew this, but he always wanted differently. He wanted to see other kinds of people, to have other people know about us. I didn’t agree. We fought. I stayed when my mother and sister left to join him. I didn’t protect them and my mother died. I came too late, and now I can’t go home.”

Kell looked out to sea, his face pensive. Winter studied his strong profile. He caught Isidor’s eye and walked over to him, talking to him. Winter came back and leaned against the rail again, Isidor coming up on Kell’s other side, also leaning against the rail.

“The Singsong, she’ll take us to Pushta,” Winter said casually, “and we’ll stop at Bashrac to take on cargo and then go to Caska to unload them, stopping in Alveria to trade the Dorsan wine in our hold. We’ll meet a man there, Lowen. He’s our friend. He’ll run with us—our ships will sail together—and we’ll trade back down the coast with the goods we get from Caska. That’s what we do.”

“In cold weather we tend to harbor in the south in Minsk with Siblin,” Isidor added. “It’s hard work, but we’re honest traders with a good reputation. If you want, you can join us and call The Singsong your home.”

Kell’s stared, first at Isidor and then at himself.

“You are offering for me to stay with Soule, with you?”

“You’re family. It’s our way,” Isidor explained.

“Isidor and I, besides Soule, we only have Lowen,” Winter said.

Both Winter and Isidor turned their heads away from Kell, looking elsewhere. When they looked back, Kell looked at Winter’s face, turning and doing the same with Isidor. He looked down at the rail, laughing a little.

“Family,” he said, nodding. “I’m grateful. Yes, I would like to stay with you here, with Soule.”

Soule began to play. All three of them leaned against the rail, listening, just pleased, until Kell said he saw a fish and asked Isidor if he had a net and he was off again, hunting.

That night, they ate the fish Kell had caught, which Isidor cooked, Kell saying he only ate raw when he had to, and everyone got drunk on Dorsan wine, including Soule, who sat on Winter’s lap and laughed at their teasing until they were all smiling. She retreated into the cabin and fell asleep when the three of them began to sing, Isidor teaching Kell drinking songs, although Isidor was the only one who had a voice for it at all.

“For a siren, you can’t sing at all,” Isidor complained once to Kell, his voice slurred.

“For a man, you sing good, Isidor,” Kell retorted, just as drunk, laughing.