Siren's Curse

By Carly Fall

Her Siren Clan is dying, and she'll face death to save them.
The only thing that can reverse the curse and save her people from extinction is a long-lost Legacy Stone.
But Rainie won't be able to find it alone. She must travel to land and locate a mage who knows where the magical stone is hidden. With the assistance of the one man willing to help her, they battle foreign creatures and the most dangerous animals of all – humans - while looking for the stone.
Death hunts them down at every turn. And even if they can find the stone in time to save her people, the cost of her clan's survival may be paid with her own life.

If you like The 100, The Hunger Games, and Divergent, you'll love Siren's Curse!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Westward Publishing
• Release date: Jun 22, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393809739

Book preview

1

When the hunter becomes the hunted, it’s truly frightening. I should know because I can still hear their death cries.

Although it happened seven years ago, they still haunted my dreams. I could see their faces, their mouths open and eyes wide in horror. Their cries for help would meet my ears, the shrieks of pain sounding as if they disappeared into the murky waters, never to be seen again.

It used to scare me. Now, I just found it an annoyance. Sort of like the little girl who floated next to me.

Did you hear me, Rainie?

I turned to my hunting partner, Tayla, a ten-year-old girl, who I wished had stayed back at the island. However, the council members had insisted that our clan must learn to hunt beginning at age ten. In my opinion, it was too young. But then again, our clan had been dying off in record numbers. The more people out trying to gather food, the better chance there was we’d all be fed.

No, I didn’t. If I were being honest, I hadn’t been listening. But you need to be quiet. Any sound can draw them.

As Sirens, our biggest nemeses were the saltwater crocodiles. They’d simply appeared seven years ago and surrounded our island. My mother and sister had died shortly after. Anyone could see the correlation there. These horrible creatures killed my family while we’d been on a hunting expedition. I’d seen it with my own eyes.

Spanning close to twenty feet long, they could tear us apart with their massive jaws in seconds. Over the past few years, I’d noticed they had started to hunt in groups. This made it even more difficult for us to gather food for our clan.

Tayla followed me along the ocean floor, the tides waving her white hair around her face. Why she didn’t tie it down as I did mine, I didn’t understand. The sand squeezed up between our toes. Her blue eyes met my gaze, and I quickly looked away. If I didn’t know better, I would say we could pass for sisters. Yet, every time I glanced in her direction, I was reminded that my own sister was dead, and I wished I could simply leave Tayla at the island.

I stopped and squinted into the murky water ahead. That was another thing that changed when the crocs showed up… our once clear ocean had become cloudy. A flash caught my eye. I moved forward ten feet and grinned. A swordfish swam in the middle of a school of silver fish, surely trying to get a full belly.

We should kill a bunch of the smaller fish, Tayla whispered.

I shook my head. They’re too fast. We’d only get one or two before they all disappeared, and that’s not going to feed the clan. I want the big guy.

Although no one would admit it, my people were on the verge of starvation. It was the big whale in the room that no one spoke of. Since the crocs had moved in, they were steadily obliterating our food source. We had tried to go outside our hunting area but quickly found that the crocs had no discrimination about what they ate. My clan, other fish… it didn’t matter to them. At least when we stayed around our island, we stood a fighting chance of escaping them.

But—

Shh, Tayla. I’ve been hunting a long time. I know what I’m doing.

As I slowly approached the swordfish, I realized how ridiculous it sounded. Yes, I’d been a provider for my clan for about ten years, ever since I’d turned fifteen. I was good at it because I’d been taught by the best… my family. Yet, the ocean wasn’t as it had been then. The change had been gradual, one our clan hadn’t paid any attention to until recently when our food sources began to decline.

I was in new territory. Hunting used to be a simple task. The fish had been plentiful, and we only took what we needed to survive. Now, it was hard to find prey, and when we did, we often had to fight the crocs for it.

I readied the spear in my right hand, just as I’d been taught. Grip it toward the end, but not too close or it won’t propel through the water very fast. Don’t fight the water. Let it bob and carry you. If you don’t move with the water, the fish will notice you sooner. Stay in the darkness as long as you can and wait. If the prey is meant to be yours, it will come to you.

Time passed as I patiently floated with the tides. The swordfish finished with its lunch and began swimming toward me. My muscles tensed. My jaw clenched. Just a few more seconds and I’d be able to hit it. I’d be bringing home the largest fish our clan had seen in over a month.

A shadow drifted by above me, blocking out what little light we got at two hundred feet. My heart clenched, and my breath caught in my throat. Shadows from above were never a good thing.

My body shook, but I held in place. If I waited just a few more seconds, the fish would be mine.

Tayla looked up and screamed.

A croc came speeding downward toward us, the swordfish disappearing into its giant jaws. Behind the predator were four others, their mouths open. Long and green with huge white claws and rows of pointed teeth… they terrified me, almost to the point of paralysis. Thankfully, today, that wasn’t the case.

I grabbed Tayla and pulled her to the sand, the crocs barely missing us. I felt the water currents they created race against my back then lift me from the ocean floor. Because of their size, the crocs didn’t maneuver very quickly, but as I looked over my shoulder, I noticed they were turning around, getting ready for a second pass.

While gripping Tayla’s hand tightly, I kicked my legs, powering us through the murky waters. I heard her crying behind me, which only fueled my need to escape. I would not watch another little girl die.

I quickly realized Tayla had become dead weight—terror paralyzing her, just as mine had tried to do.

You need to swim! I yelled, glancing at her. Kick your legs, or we’ll never get out of here alive!

She nodded, and we swam faster through the ocean toward our home. I knew we’d never reach it in time, but since that fateful day seven years ago, I’d never left the island without a plan in place.

Tayla screamed again, and I guessed the crocs were gaining on us. I didn’t bother to look, keeping my gaze trained ahead.

A patch of six-foot-high sea grass waved at the base of a large coral. I pulled Tayla into it and pushed her beneath me, then lay on top of her, keeping the spear in my hand at my side. Placing my other hand over her mouth, I said, Shut your eyes. Don’t watch.

Fortunately, she did as she was told.

The needle-thin green and brown grass fully engulfed us, waving above with the currents. Bits of algae swarmed around us, and I fought a cough as I inhaled some. I sensed the change in the water as the crocs swam above. They circled around so many times waiting for us to come out, I lost count. I kept expecting the searing pain of teeth tearing my flesh, then ripping it from my bones. My screams wouldn’t be any different than the ones that haunted me.

After what seemed like hours, the ocean returned to its regular bob and tide. They’d left.

I rolled off Tayla and stared upward, still holding on to her hand. Unable to see through the grass, I hoped my assessment of the situation had been correct.

Purely by accident, I had discovered—while running for my life—that the crocs didn’t like to swim into the grasses. I didn’t understand why, and I didn’t try to find an answer. I just knew I’d be safe if I could find a deep enough patch. Well, I’d be safe until the crocs decided the grass was no longer off-limits.

Apparently, today was another lucky day for me.

I closed my eyes. My heart wanted to beat out of my chest, the fear and adrenaline causing my limbs to shake. I’d been chased by the crocs many times, but it had never scared me so horribly as this incident.

Finally, I turned to Tayla.

Are you okay? I reached out to touch the blue trident marking on her neck. All our kind had the same design in the same place.

She nodded but bit her lip. Her pale skin had blanched further, her gaze wide with horror.

Ten was too young to come out into the ocean and deal with the crocs. After this experience, Tayla would never want to hunt again.

Can we go home now?

I nodded. Just let me check and make sure they’re gone.

Rolling to my knees, I crawled to the edge of the patch. As I glanced up, I saw nothing but normal daylight filtering through the murky waters, although the new shadows suggested we’d been trapped for a while—at least two hours. We should have returned to the island by now.

I got to my feet and paced around the swaying grass, ready to dive back in if need be. When I had fully circled the perimeter, I was satisfied the crocs had moved on. I returned to our original location and found Tayla right where I had left her. She stood and threw her arms around my waist, holding me tight.

I want to go home! she wailed.

We’ll get you there soon. Let’s catch a couple small fish.

No! Now!

Her fear tugged at my heart. I often wondered just how frightened my sister had been when she’d realized her fate. As I wrapped my arms around Tayla’s trembling body, I vacillated between going home empty-handed or staying out a little longer so we could bring home sustenance to our clan.

My duty as a hunter won out.

You need to quiet down, I said, holding her at arm’s-length. The more noise you make, the more you’ll attract the crocs. We need to bring home something for people to eat. That’s my job. Once you learn to hunt, it will be yours as well.

My tone was harsher than I’d intended while frustrations boiled to the surface. No one should have to face the crocs, but we had been left with no choice. They had us trapped and ate our food. Our people were dying, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Tayla lowered her gaze to the sand, then nodded.

I’ll be quiet, she whispered barely loud enough for me to hear.

I took her hand once again and pulled her out of our hiding place. We headed toward home, but I kept vigilant for any signs of prey… and the crocs.

We speared five silver fish, which wouldn’t be nearly enough for everyone to eat, but it was something. I threaded the last one on the line tied to my waist, wishing I could have bagged that swordfish.

Damned crocs.

Just before we arrived home, I dug in the sand at the foot of a large rock and found a foot-long sand eel. Tayla and I walked down a valley toward more tall grass to hide and eat. I quickly beheaded the eel with my spear, then cut it into small chunks. Shoving one piece in my mouth, I chewed and fought the urge to spit it out. Sand eel was chewy and had a tangy, bitter taste, but I wouldn’t otherwise be eating tonight. I forced myself to swallow it. I needed nourishment.

Eat some, I said, shoving a piece at Tayla.

I hate sand eel.

I rolled my eyes. She’d been sheltered from the situation our people found ourselves in. If she was going to learn to hunt, she needed to be prepared for how important her job had become. Daily, she would be required to survive on the line between life and death to keep our clan alive. It was time she realized it.

This is all you’re going to eat for the rest of the day, I said, offering her another piece. If you don’t eat it, you’ll starve. If you starve, you’ll be dead. Everyone hates sand eel, but we have to do what we can to survive, Tayla.

Why will this be the only thing I get to eat?

Because you’ve been deemed a hunter. Because the crocs are taking our fish supply. We’re running out of food, Tayla. It’s up to the hunters to find it and provide it to our clan. That includes you now.

She stared at me for a long while. I shoved another piece of the horrid eel into my mouth and tried to think about lobsters and crabs—two species I hadn’t seen in a couple of years.

Tayla finally took a piece and grimaced as she forced herself to eat it. I tried not to smile at the way her nose crinkled up. She was cute, and I felt endeared to her. However, I didn’t allow myself to get close to anyone any longer. I’d lost too much, been through too much pain. It was easier to keep to myself.

When we’d consumed the rest of the eel, I asked if she was ready to head home.

I’ve been ready.

We lived at a place we all called the island, but it wasn’t really an island any longer. The elders in our group said it used to be an island in the true sense of the word—a land mass surrounded by water. Whidbey Island, it had been named. Now, the whole place was submerged. Through volcanic activity and the shift in the tectonic plates below it, tunnels had formed within. We lived in those tunnels, and my ancestors had worked hard to carve out the living spaces we all shared. It had once been bountiful with trees and foliage, but those trees had died and decayed. I often thought they resembled long, moss-covered claws.

Our home had four entrances with guards always standing watch at each one. Guard duty was almost as dangerous as hunting because the crocs liked to swim by and grab anyone standing at the entry. We’d lost a lot of people to the crocs, both hunters and watchmen.

Life hadn’t always been so difficult. I wasn’t sure of when it had changed and don’t have full-on memories of when it wasn’t hard, just little snapshots: activities like sitting down to eat with my family, the table covered in different types of fish, or playing outside the island without fear. I remember a lot of laughter and smiles, things we didn’t experience much of lately. Now, life had become one long stretch of gloom and doom with no way out.

As Tayla and I approached the entry, I glanced around once more for any crocs waiting to attack. Apparently, they’d found others to kill and maim, at least for the time being.

We passed the guard with a nod as he studied the meager collection of food hanging off my hunting belt. I tried to keep my chin up, to show I wasn’t ashamed of the bounty, yet my cheeks burned with embarrassment and fury.

There had to be a way to beat the crocs. I just didn’t know what it could be.

Of course, none of it mattered if they ended me first.

2

Ipassed on my portion of the meal, thankful another hunting pair had been able to grab some oysters and mussels so everyone got something. I, on the other hand, couldn’t get the taste of sea snake out of my mouth.

We had gathered in the main area. Long, wooden tables and benches weighted with rocks lined both sides of the room. At the head of the area, the main council had their own table for six. They were elders of the group, my father being one of them.

Since my mother and sister had been killed, I hadn’t spoken much to him. I didn’t know if it was because I resembled my mother with my long white hair and blue eyes, or if we were both so destroyed by their deaths, we simply couldn’t connect again.

When Fern, the oldest member of our clan, called the young children around, they came running. Her long, white, wavy hair floated around her, almost giving her a halo. Thick lines etched her pale face, but her green eyes danced as she stared at the ten kids surrounding her while she sat on the steps.

Today, I’d like to tell you how we ended up as ocean people because it wasn’t always this way. Would you children like to hear it?

The kids cheered, and a few adults smiled. Everyone loved a good story, or in this case, a history lesson.

What I’m about to tell you happened before you were born, children, she began. There isn’t any need for you to be afraid of my story. All of it is in our past.

I couldn’t help but snort. I’d heard her tale about how we’d become ocean people, and it had always scared me. However, it didn’t frighten me as much as our current situation.

When I was younger, I used to live on land, not in the ocean, Fern said. I walked on solid ground, not sand. I climbed trees, picked flowers, and only on rare occasions did I step foot in the ocean. I didn’t like to swim much.

According to Fern, she was one hundred and fifteen years old. She had been one of the first to be turned into an ocean person, her husband and two kids included. She’d outlived them all and was the last of our clan who had once been human.

When the oceans rose, the land disappeared, Fern continued. Diseases we had never seen took many lives. We didn’t know how to treat them. Many people died, and we had to fight to survive. Our natural resources dried up. Food was hard to find.

What happened after that? a young boy asked.

We learned to adapt to our new world. Instead of dying, we began to thrive. We were going to make it as a species. At least that was what I thought until the meteor hit Earth.

As the story went, the meteor had been the humans’ undoing. Before it struck, it blasted into thousands of pieces that landed throughout the world. That sent ecosystems on both land and sea into a tailspin. Land became mostly uninhabitable. Then, the mages stepped in. That part of the story always made me uncomfortable.

Mages offered to use their magic to turn some of us into what we are today… Sirens, Fern continued. Humans can’t stay underwater like us. They need air to breathe. On the other hand, we can breathe air, yet, we can survive underwater. I think we’re quite special. Don’t you, children?

To me, I didn’t like the idea that the mages had messed with Mother Nature. I wasn’t sure if I would have chosen to become a Siren if the decision had been mine.

My grandparents wanted to be Sirens. They believed the world would become completely uninhabitable in the near future and moving into the ocean would save them. From what my father had told me, it caused great infighting within the family and the human clan where they lived.

I often wondered what life was like for those still on land, but I accepted that I would never know. The humans hated the Sirens, and the feeling was mutual. It had been going on for a long time and seemed inbred in both species. The hatred ran so deep, humans paid others to capture us. It was my understanding that