Chapter 17

The ocean was incredible, he would freely admit that. Such a vast array of colors and creatures would never cease to fill him with a sense of wonder. He loved the freedom of traveling to the frozen waters of the north, swimming among the gigantic icebergs, so huge that they seemed like green-eyed monsters to the gods above. In a single day he might visit these frozen giants, then sweep down the warmer waters of the old Ptolomies, where the ocean had swallowed entire cities. Statues of lions and pillars once thought to last forever were now covered in algae and crustaceans. He might then travel to the shores of Africa, where a deep crevice formed that looked like an underwater waterfall. He would pass by dozens of shipwrecks, where inside he found chests of cloth now rotten, or spices spoiled, or perhaps gold and gems. He could bait the great white sharks until they played the human game of tag, or float lazily along the currents, not caring where they took him, until he ended up in the deep, dark waters of India, or the rainbow ocean of Australia.

And whenever thinking of the traitors became too much, he would simply summon the winds and bring the rain, and create the fiercest hurricane humans had seen in years, and ride the waves for days, until his rage and power were spent.

No matter. Of course he could fill his days talking with the whales of the North Atlantic, or fish in the underwater rivers near Mexico, but sooner or later, he would tire of these empty views. He had seen enough beauty and wonder to last him for the rest of eternity.

Now it was time to destroy it.

"Come to join the party, Skelmis?" A siren tossed her jet-black hair over her shoulder. It matched the color of her eyes, skin, and scales. She gleamed like ebony in the sunlight, yet her eyes absorbed light like two whirlpools.

He smiled. "Of course; do you need help?" He lounged on the rock they were all sitting on. He glanced in the distance; a ship was just a few hundred feet away. Perfect prey.

"If you like," another said. This one was in every way her sister's opposite: white hair, ivory irises, and pearl-white scales that looked like chips of ice. All of the sirens surrounding Skelmis were either entirely black or entirely white; either way, they had the appearance of all color leeched out of them, as if whatever force created them had forgotten to fill them in. The white siren opened her arms, and he leaned back into them, settling in comfortably in a murderess's embrace.

They began to sing.

A piercing melody filled the air. It sounded as though honey was being dripped over icicles to freeze: sweet, yet incalculably cold. It was the song of temptation, of sweet longings, forgotten kisses, of death. As the sirens picked up the intensity of their song, the ship began to turn their way.

"Not long now, beauties," said Skelmis.

Suddenly, the sirens broke their harmony to sing in roving parts, as if they had been one voice suddenly fractured into a dozen. Some ascended to the highest reaches of heaven, and some plucked notes from the deepest parts of hell. It was tragic; it was horrible; it was beautiful.

Just like them, he thought.

He loved their company, these beings who loved destruction almost as much as he did. They didn't care about lost souls or broken families; they had their immortality and they guarded it as jealously as Cerberus guarded Hades. They knew what they wanted and they sacrificed everything-even their own conscience, drowned in deep into the ocean where they only had to pay their blood price every ten years or so.

Pretty good for life everlasting.

He leaned his head back into the siren, and she pushed her fingers through his hair. He began to whistle, to add to their demonic harmony. As he whistled, a fierce wind began to blow. Clouds darkened the sky and rain began to fall. As Skelmis whistled, the ocean churned, and waves rose pummeled the poor ship caught in the storm.

When the ship had nearly reached them, men began leaping out. As they tried to swim closer to the rock they were perched on, many drowned outright for lack of knowing how to swim. Others struggled against the currents and pounding waves. The sirens kept singing, as they swam toward the sailors. As they sang, they gently pushed the sailors down into the ocean, filling their lungs with water, as they filled their heads with a deadly lullaby.

Skelmis always enjoyed these parties.