Mira #3
The map Taika gave me is fragile, barely holding together at the edges, and despite her cryptic promise that it would guide me to what I yearned for most, I’ve spent days staring at the parchment with nothing to show for it.
Out of desperation, we sailed to the farthest reaches of the sea, hoping that answers might rise from the unexpected.
When that failed, I gave the order to head toward civilization.
Restlessness gnawed at me with each passing day, my patience wearing thin as the ocean stretched on endlessly and our supplies dwindled faster than I liked.
Gold is running low, especially when it has to feed an entire crew.
There’s always my hidden stash buried beneath Pebble’s Pub, a vault Neressa and I quietly maintain, adding to it over time.
It’s our shared insurance, for moments just like this.
The map begins to darken, inky black spots bleeding across the bottom right corner.
My heart skips. “Turn the ship southwest!” I shout, snapping the wheel as the crew rushes into motion.
As we shift course, more spots bloom across the parchment, scattering faster now, until the map is drenched in black.
A full signal. We’re heading the right way.
“What do you think it means, Captain?” Smith asks, hovering beside me, eyes narrowed on the page. I glance at him, then out to the endless stretch of sea.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “But it’s showing us where we need to go. And I trust it. So we follow the map.” Smith doesn't respond right away, but I feel his doubt. He always questions my decisions, quietly, but it's there. He forgets I’m the captain now.
We continue moving southwest, following the map’s direction day after day, watching the sun rise and set.
The anticipation grows with each passing moment, and I begin to grow frustrated, wondering if what Taika gave me was even a real map or just some kind of distraction.
Then, I hear laughter coming from below deck. A woman's laugh.
I’m the only woman on board. A sudden wave of unease sweeps over me. My first thought? A stowaway. Someone who'd slipped past my crew.
I head down to the main deck and catch sight of them—mermaids.
They swim alongside my ship, laughing and leaping from the water like dolphins.
They’re beautiful. Far more so than sirens.
Sirens are all teeth and claws, pale skin stretched over sharp bones, alien eyes and scaled flesh.
Weapons born of the sea. Mermaids, though?
They can be sweet, when they choose to be.
Creatures of charm and color, their satin hair flowing like ribbons in the tide, skin glowing under the sun, eyes glittering in every hue.
Their tails shimmer in pastel tones, like seashells made flesh.
My men lean over the edge of the ship, slack-jawed, catcalling, practically falling overboard to get a better look. I roll my eyes. Idiots. Risking their lives for a chance to flirt with something that would never let them close. Men really aren’t the smartest creatures in the sea.
I glance down at the map and the black spots are gone. “Shit. We’ve gone off course,” I mutter under my breath. My boots slam against the deck as I charge up to the helm. The wheel is abandoned. No one at post.
I snap my gaze across the deck and there he is.
Sully. Leaning over the edge of the ship, making doe eyes at the mermaids like a damn fool.
I storm toward him, grab the back of his collar, and shove him aside.
“Back to your post,” I growl. He stumbles, muttering an apology, like he's drunk. Useless.
I quickly make my way back to the wheel, trying to get us back on track.
Nothing. No black spots. I shift the course again.
Still nothing. The mermaids laugh behind me, taunting, high-pitched giggles that pierce straight through my skull.
Fury burns hot beneath my skin. We lost the path. Because of him.
I storm over to Sully, fury coursing through me, and slap him hard across the face. “You idiot! You lost our heading so you could flirt with mermaids you’ll never touch,” I hiss. The crew falls silent at my outburst.
I’ve always had a temper. While my father taught me to fight, my mother taught me how to deliver a slap that stings both pride and skin.
“Sorry, Captain. Won’t happen again,” Sully mutters, a sour sneer twisting his face.
I step closer, the power in my voice making up for my small frame.
I might be short, but I carry more command in the tip of my pinky than most men hold in their entire spine.
“No,” I say coolly. “It won’t. Scrub the decks. ”
“You can’t be serious,” Sully has the nerve to say, letting out a cocky little laugh.
“I’ve never been more serious,” I snap. “You don’t understand what you’ve cost us. You’ll pay for it with labor. Now get to it. And don’t test me.”
I spin on my heel before he can open that arrogant mouth again, fury still simmering beneath my skin.
My eyes drop to the map just in time to see the parchment shift, darkening into a deep, solid black.
My gaze flicks to the horizon. The Leviathan, Kai’s ship, is there looming in the distance, unmoving, like it has been waiting.
Waiting for me. The map doesn’t fade. It stays black as I turn the wheel toward him.
What in the hells does he have to do with this?
Smith steps up beside me, his voice low, dry, and far too amused. “Looks like you found what you truly desire.”