In the Grotto Lyx
In the Grotto
Lyx
Of all the things washed up in Lyx’s grotto, the biggest surprise is a pirate.
At least, one who’s still intact. Plenty of bodies litter this place, skulls crushed between rocks while their bones lie ensnared in plants.
By the time the corpses make it here, they look very different from the way Lyx left them.
All that remains is gold teeth and rotted clothing, but she remembers their faces from the shipwrecks — the hopeful lust in their eyes, the seaweed reaching toward them, the blue tint of their skin as they sank deeper.
This pirate, however, she doesn’t recognize.
He’s pale and sickly from the sea, but there’s still a red hue to his skin.
The shape of his face is human, but there are horns sprouting through his short hair.
Salt clings to his eyelashes and the spiked tail curled limply beside him.
Despite the patches of scales on his body, it’s clear he’s not amphibious.
He wasn’t made to withstand the ocean as she is.
The tide lifts Lyx onto a rocky ledge. Water drips from her body and takes her siren form with it, her jellyfish tentacles weaving into two legs, fins and webbing shrinking until she looks almost human.
This is the body pirates expect when they hunt for sirens.
Beautiful. Vulnerable. Intriguing, but always familiar.
Waves splash against the pirate and rock his body closer to deeper water. If Lyx doesn’t intervene, he’ll drown.
A smile flits across her lips. Good. It will be her gift to the sea.
But the sea doesn’t need his trinkets. Kneeling in the shallows, Lyx feels along his body for pockets. Most of his clothing is torn, leaving his skin exposed to the elements. She runs her hand over one muscled thigh and traces up his abdomen.
Her head tilts, wet hair slipping down her back.
Where she expects to find flat pectorals, she’s met with the curve of two breasts.
Across his chest are faded marks, like a strip of fabric had been wound around it.
More surprising, the pirate’s shoulder bends at an odd angle with muscle pulled taut over the joint.
She hovers over the injury. Feebly, volcanic cracks spread between his scales as if a fire burns beneath the surface. When she leans closer, there’s the faintest scent of soot and cinnamon —
“What a…way to go.”
Her hand clamps instinctively around his throat. Did he speak? She can’t be sure. His mouth doesn’t move now, lips chapped and still. She must have imagined it. The waves are so loud, and whatever she thought she heard was as faint as two grains of sand rubbing together.
But then the pirate rasps in a breath.
Her fingers flex around his fragile neck. Any pulse he has is overpowered by her own, amplified when his golden eyes flutter open. This changes nothing. She will do as she always does, holding him underwater until the bubbles stop rising.
She waits for him to fight her. It’s better when they do, yet even with her choking him, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Doesn’t beg. If anything, he looks…serene. Her palm grows warm. Beneath her hand, his skin flickers with light.
She tightens her grip. “You’re pathetic for a pirate.”
His mouth twitches upward. One of his top teeth is chipped. “Apologies,” he wheezes. “Presently, I’m…indisposed.”
There’s not an ounce of strength in his body. His hands lie feebly at his side, and there’s not even a knife in his belt to fend her off with.
Her nose wrinkles. “You didn’t bring a weapon?” Insulted, her tongue clucks. “It’s always the most arrogant hunters who die in these waters.”
“Consider,” he pants, flinching when her fingers tighten, “that I’m simply foolish. Not arrogant.”
Never has a pirate admitted to his shortcomings, but she won’t be tricked. “You truly are a fool if you think I believe that.”
“I’m not a hunter,” he gasps. “I work…on a ship. I took a boat…to get supplies. A storm blew me off course.”
Her fingers flex. She had called upon the sea for a storm…
but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that he’s here.
“Your story won’t spare you.” Power builds in the base of Lyx’s throat as she sets back on her heels.
She doesn’t have to kill him herself. With her song, he’ll destroy himself, and he’ll be grateful for it.
She opens her mouth and plucks the persuasive strings of her vocal cords —
“I’m not asking,” the pirate breathes, “for you to spare me.” There’s a long pause, like he’s used all his strength to speak. “But I hate the thought…of dying…while you think so poorly of me.”
Bewildered, Lyx blinks. Surely she misheard him. It’s the strangest attempt to save himself that she’s ever seen, yet he seems completely at ease.
“Will you give me that…one kindness?” His crusted eyelashes brush his cheeks like he might drift off to sleep. “Think generously of me…before you kill me?”
Lyx scoffs. Why is she entertaining this? Granted, it’s the least offensive thing a pirate has asked of her. It’s the only thing a pirate has asked; most of them are too busy making demands to realize their fate is sealed.
“Please,” he whispers. “If you do it…then I’ll…go quietly.”
“I don’t care how you go,” she growls, “all that matters is that you’re going.”
That should frighten him, but he doesn’t respond. Perhaps he can’t. His chest rises and falls shallowly, skin more ashen than when she arrived.
Pitiful indeed.
Her eyes roll. This pirate won’t last another hour. The faster she gets rid of him, the faster she can comb the shipwrecks for spoils. With some struggle, she searches for the unfamiliar words. “I think — passably of you. Now, drag yourself —”
“What are you thinking?”
Her thoughts slip away like a fish. “What?”
“What passable things…” He breathes slowly, eyes fluttering again. “Are you thinking about me?”
She swallows. They’re closer than she meant to be. His expression is familiar, the dreamy look of a hunter under her thrall, but she hasn’t yet used her song on him.
He sounds delirious. “Are you thinking, ‘He’s…adventurous. So brave. Ruggedly —’” A vicious cough overtakes him, water spluttering from his mouth until his voice is rough with salt. “Handsome?”
Her cheeks heat. She’s not sure if it’s humiliation or something else. This half-drowned pirate is making a mockery of her, like she doesn’t hold his very life in her hands. With gritted teeth, she digs her nails into his broken shoulder. “I could command you to drown!”
A pained noise escapes him.
She tightens her grip. “I wouldn’t even have to touch you. My voice alone would send you to the bottom of the sea. If I speak it, then you obey.”
He gives another helpless gasp before she jerks her hand away, splashing it clean in the pool of water beside her. The pirate can do little more than pant, grimacing until his face contorts into something else.
Lyx gapes at him. “You’re smiling?”
Even in his state, it’s undeniable, his mouth tilted up at the corners as if death isn’t waiting to greet him. “If that’s how I’m gonna go…” With chapped lips, he gives a poor attempt at a whistle. “Kinda…poetic.”
Her teeth grind. “Poetic?”
“Pirates ‘n sirens…” His words turn to slurry, fading as swiftly as the rest of him. “Tale as old as…”
Finally, the pirate falls silent. Slowly, Lyx rises to her feet, fearing the movement might rouse him into another inane conversation. But the longer she waits, the quieter it grows. Soon, there’s nothing but the shush of waves disguising any rise and fall of his chest.
She doesn’t even have to kill him. He’ll be dead before sunrise.
Still, she should do it herself. Killing him would fuel her, stirring up chaos to bask in like a lizard on a rock. Her siblings wouldn’t pass up the chance to feed; they would drown him and eat the remains for fun.
But this pirate is so weak already. He wouldn’t even put up a fight. Where’s the fun in that?
She watches him down her nose. Such an odd creature. He’s as brazen as a seagull, but placid as a whale. It’s…unnerving. Only like this can she tolerate him — when he isn’t speaking, isn’t saying strange things that no normal person would utter, isn’t looking at her with those eyes as warm as wax.
Why does it rattle her? What about this pirate is so confounding?
Her toes curl against the rocks. It doesn’t matter. He’ll die the same as all the others, and when she returns tomorrow, all that will be left will be a corpse…or nothing at all.
With that, she wades to the edge of the ledge and dives back into the sea.