Siren - Hazel Grace Page 0,20
human or being that sailed or swam by it to keep my sisters and I safe. A stupid idea that we all had, sick of the water and the monotonous sea. Filled with dreams from my mother’s diaries of another world, where humans walked on land and laid in the sun. How they didn’t dry up when out of the water but could go into it whenever they chose.
She spoke about an island with palm trees and shade. Fruit that hung from plants and animals that lived there. It started a revolution for my sisters and I, including Atarah, to seek out the only person that could possibly make it happen—Taysa the sea witch.
While she hated the term “witch,” she healed the sick and injured creatures of the blue with her magic, helped build cities, and protected my sisters and I from danger.
She saved Brylee once from a herd of sharks.
She mended Kali when she was stung by a bloom of jellyfish, turning her skin pink for a few days, which clashed with her orange features. Isolde loved how she matched her pink hair and eyes, walking around for days calling Kali her twin, which only irked my sister more.
Taysa was Atarah’s sounding board when she got her heart broken by a siren named Bran. He crushed her spirit to pursue another Siren, and instead of using Nesrine’s abilities to make him feel miserable for all eternity, Taysa told her not to let anyone have that sort of power over you.
Not only was Taysa an overseer but Mother’s best friend. Always around for birthdays and celebrations, spoiling us with gifts and filling our minds with stories of creatures who once roamed the sea. I was certain she’d give us everything in her power the moment we asked until we approached her about an island of our own.
That she flatly refused before it left the tip of Atarah’s tongue.
Taysa didn’t like using desired spells because it was dabbling with fate and everything comes with a price—one that she didn’t know and couldn’t control.
My sisters and I, being the stubborn and persistent creatures that we are, pestered her for weeks. Composing lists and reasons on why we should have an island of our own, that Mother would’ve wanted us to have it—our own piece of paradise.
Taysa warned us, numerous times, and I can’t blame my current predicament on anyone but myself. She finally gave in after numerous attempts of breaking her down. The price, though, wasn’t one my sisters and I took seriously. We weren’t allowed off the island afterward, stuck to stay on land permanently. The friendly salt water we swam and were born into burnt our skin, which devastated Taysa. She ran to our father with the news, distressed and frightened.
So I made another deal on my own and behind my sisters’ backs.
For my sisters’ freedom to go back into the sea and be with our father, I gave up my liberty—to stay on the island for their release. However, not only was I stuck on this island, but the second desired spell also took my voice.
Taysa understood why I did it, knew that my father having at least six of us would be better than having none. And to this day, she comes to visit me by the shore to give me updates on finding a way to get me off the island and get my voice back.
It’s a double-edged slice to me though.
On land, I can stand next to Tobias, but that’s all we do. Nothing of what I dreamt of I’ve done with him, knowing one day I’ll return to the sea, and I can’t break his heart.
Even though I knew it would happen anyway.
Ridding myself of my current thoughts, I decide to stay away from the Viking to think about my next move, which is the most pressing matter. Obviously keeping him locked up was doing more harm than good. I learned that pride is the most important thing a man possesses, I just wasn’t privy to letting him roam the island, where my father could find him and make things worse.
A wave of black catches my attention, and I don’t have to look up to know what it is.
“Nesrine,” I call out, not lifting my eyes from my book. She creeps around like the shadows, hiding when she doesn’t want to be bothered, which I can sense is right now.
I hear a small groan then her footsteps entering into the modest library.
“Hello Davina,” she greets