Chapter 20

Alba driftedin and out of sleep after the exhaustion took him. Lulled back to the surface of consciousness as something wet and gentle wiped the sticky, dripping residue from between his legs, not knowing if it was a wash rag or a tongue. Barely treading wakefulness as hands clumsily tugged clothes back onto his legs, over his head. Drawn gently under again as Eridanys collapsed into the bed alongside him with a deep exhale, shifting uncomfortably, elbowing Alba to scoot over, before finally sighing and pressing his body into Alba's from behind. Hardly any different than when he fucked him, only thin layers of clothing separating them that time. Even wrapping his arm over Alba's waist, though Alba wondered if it was only to keep himself anchored so he wouldn't fall off the edge.

Alba never expected to sleep so easily right alongside someone like Eridanys, let alone wrapped in his arms, held by that siren who'd been so rough and demanding and delicious only hours prior. Whose arm draping over him soon twitched and shifted as the siren himself drifted off, eventually traveling up to cup around the front of Alba's throat in a possessive, protective sort of way, like even fast asleep in that bed far from the sea, he still worried the tide might sweep in and take him. But the sensation of breaths against the back of his neck, inhaling and exhaling long and deep, lured Alba to follow suit after him. Even that possessive touch was comforting in its own sort of way.

Still, Alba knew he shouldn't let sleep come for him so easily, nudged back awake again and again with every sound on the opposite side of the door, from the street below, as humming song drifted in and out on the air and he didn't know if it was wind in the pipes or the spirits in the trees. Reeling him back to the surface of exhaustion again and again, drawling thoughts spinning endlessly in the back of his mind that he needed to be more careful. He should have been more careful. Anyone could have heard, anyone could have thrown open the door in the middle of what they were doing.

Only when he heard the sound of Eugene and Phyllis Michaels returning home from their early new moon celebrations, making their way up the stairs and to their own bedroom, did he finally relax. Sinking into Eridanys' body still pressed into him, clutching Alba tightly, possessively, protectively. Safe in that siren's arms. No one had heard anything at all—but even if they had, surely they would know better than to wake such a bloodthirsty creature as it slept.

The soundof hands rifling through clutter drew Alba from sleep for the final time, pulled further by bright sunlight casting over him through the window. Cracking open his eyes, he groaned slightly, rolling over, then over again, searching for the pale demon making so much noise so early in the morning. As a lighthouse keeper, Alba didn't get many opportunities to sleep during a normal night, let alone to sleep in—and it seemed, as the mate of a siren, those rare opportunities would be just as fleeting even when the chance came.

"What are you doin'?" he asked, voice groggy. Eridanys' eyes barely flickered up from where he crouched on the balls of his feet like a wicked little thing, holding a bundle of loose photographs in his hands. Sunbeams only made his silver eyes more unsettling, piercing through them like pieces of foggy glass.

"Snooping," Eridanys answered, returning to his work. "There are interesting things here."

"Like what?" Alba sighed, finally sitting up. His hair was a mess, particularly matted in the back for the same reason as the warm, wet, throbbing ache between his legs, and he tilted his head away as his cheeks flushed. Eridanys didn't notice, busy browsing his discoveries as Alba worked to comb fingers through his hair.

He opted to not prod further, just watching, trying to figure out exactly what it was that caught Eridanys' interest with each item he picked up. A book he flipped through without actually looking; another handful of loose photographs he tossed to the floor; a stick of perfume he unscrewed, sniffed, and scowled at. It was amusing, strangely captivating. Alba even laughed softly a few times, earning a narrowed look from Eridanys in return, who clearly didn't like being watched. But did nothing to vocally protest, either, like he wasn't sure how to feel. Like no one had ever given him such attention in such a mundane moment, before. A shame—Alba couldn't help but be interested in everything Eridanys did.

As the sound of singing pipes slipped through the cracked window, Alba also couldn't keep other unspoken thoughts from growing heavier, previously tucked away, rekindled by the sound and the sight of the siren illuminated by the sun in front of him. Thoughts that drifted dangerously down the back of his neck into his throat, until he couldn't keep the repressed curiosity from bubbling over his tongue. Hoping their activities the night before had put his companion in a better mood to speak on it.

"Those spirits in the trees… they said somethin' about you being an alm of the… the fa… fata morgana…?" He started slowly, carefully. Eridanys didn't react outright, but Alba saw how the corner of his mouth twitch in agitation. Still, he continued: "I know what that means as a sailor, but for a merrow? What is it?"

"You still want me to explain the nonsense those voices spoke?" Eridanys asked, though Alba sensed right away his aloofness was an act. There was a twitch in his jaw, like he'd been stirring through those things all night, himself, and the chance to speak them out loud was tempting.

"Humans have stories about people who go missing in the woods, don't they?" He went on despite the argument, like even he realized pretending he didn't care was a lost cause. "Those who vanish into thin air while fetching water, while traveling far from home. The details of the myths might be different depending on where you go, but… any town alongside the forest, the mountains, the moors, the sea has stories about people who disappear."

"Yes," Alba answered. Short and simple, not wanting to get in the way.

"Well—merrow have the same, of course. We can cease to exist in the vast emptiness of the sea as easily as a man might vanish into the trees—for more reasons than just being banished to be a siren, of course. It's why we tend to live in large kinshipped groups in bays or along shorelines, whether we make nice with local humans or not…"

Alba listened attentively, arms folded beneath him, lips parted slightly in interest. He always thought there was magic to Eridanys' normal speech as well as his song, and felt it tingling under his skin more than ever that morning. Perhaps because their previous night was still fresh on and under his skin, perhaps with the way Eridanys glowed like something angelic in the rare morning sun. Even Eridanys must have felt it, constantly averting his eyes from Alba's, then letting them float back, then shifting where he sat, doing something to keep his hands busy. Still always looking back to Alba again as he spoke. Like he wanted to see if the human on the bed really paid attention for as long as he talked.

"Merrow aren't meant to live on their own—which is why they become sirens when left to the whims of the open sea. That empty, lonely, infinite place where only sirens roam and hunt and seek corrupted kinships of their own—is called the sea-obscura. Sailors call it the fata morgana, like you said. That hazy place on the horizon between the water and the sky, where ghost ships sail and rocky outcroppings trick sailors into thinking land is not far off… It's also where our gods and devils are said to reside. According to our stories."

"Even merrow have gods 'n devils?"

"Not like human ones," Eridanys smirked. "‘Gods and devils', I say, for lack of a better term."

"Then you spent your time at sea with gods? Or devils."

Eridanys laughed under his breath. A small, but very real little chuckle. "I can't rightly say. You know how wickies like yourself go mad while tending to your lights? Many sirens go mad exactly the same. Who knows if they—erm, we actually see and speak with the gods, or if we're simply in a deranged stupor out there. Until we find something to eat, at least, and regain some clarity."

"You saw gods while out there?"

"Do you listen to anything I say?"

Alba laughed. "How long were you out there? In the sea-morgana."

"The sea-obscura," Eridanys sighed. "Who knows. There's no way to track lunations as easily as closer to land. Nowhere to write them down as they pass. Perhaps years."

"Did you find anyone to kin with while you were out there?" Alba asked. "Other sirens?"

"Plenty," Eridanys smiled. "But never for long. We crave kinship, but it's easy to drift apart again in a place so endless."

Alba nodded. He knew how that felt. He knew how easy it was to forget about land, about all the people on land on the other end of the sea. Out in the middle of dark nothingness—it was easy to feel like the only living soul breathing the air and knowing how it felt to be lonely. As if the rest of the world was only their imagination. A derangement, just like Eridanys said.

"Where did you sail?" Eridanys asked unexpectedly, catching Alba off guard. He never expected a question in return, resulting in him rambling right off the bat.

"Um, well—I spent most of my years up in the north. Sometimes whalin', sometimes fishin' on doggers, sometimes crabbing, sometimes ice harvesting. Spent some time in lighthouses here and there, too, or shipyards. Sometimes I'd be assigned to a ship a little more south where it wasn't so cold, but not by much. I've heard about places where the sun shines all the time and it's hot enough that you sweat all day, but… a part of me doesn't believe it. If those sorts of places are real, well, if I ever got all the way down there, I think I would melt, anyway. Like a frozen lake in the summer."

"I spent a lot of time swimming up north as well, you know," Eridanys teased with a threatening flick of his tongue. "Found there to be far more to eat with so many ships ice-breaking and whaling. I wonder if you ever heard me sing without knowing it."

Alba's face went hot. He shook his head. "No, I don't think so," he said. "I definitely would not be here if that were the case."

Eridanys liked that. He smiled a little too much, gazing at Alba a little too long as if imagining it. Alba averted his eyes, turning his gaze toward the growing sun through the window, letting it wash over his face. He felt Eridanys' eyes linger on him as he did, though he was sure he didn't radiate the same way the siren did in the brightness.

"You said you sailed for the Warren Company. Those are the men who keep coming after you, aren't they? That one called Marco, and the one before that. The already-dead corpse you tried to feed me."

Alba sank forward into the pillows, pressing his chin into one clutched beneath him. "Yes," he said with a frown. "I owe them a debt. Erm—no, actually. My father owed them a debt. A lot of money. Even when he died, they wanted it paid back, so they had me on their roster 'til I was old enough to be taken and made to sail in his stead."

"How much money? So much that you had to sail for so long?" Eridanys' tone soured. "Did you do any of it because you wanted to?"

"I don't know how much," Alba sighed. "I didn't do it because I wanted to, really, either…" Would he have if he'd been given the choice? He glanced back to Eridanys, again. An uncertain ‘maybe' ghosted in the back of his mind.

"What do you mean you don't know? It's your debt."

"It changed all the time," Alba murmured, stretching out his arms and letting the sun illuminate his tattoos and streaks of dark merrow blood between them. "And according to Marco, still accruin' debt as we speak. For all the days I'm missin' work at the fish market. For all the nights I'm technically rentin' a bed in that hellhole workhouse, even though I haven't been back in weeks." He sighed, combing fingers back through his hair. "They charged me for every meal I ate, for every new pair of boots or gloves, for every night I slept on the ship, every time I needed so much as a bandage. Not even countin' the piling interest and monthly allowance they gave my mother so she could afford to eat, since there weren't enough jobs in Welkin for her to earn her own way. I didn't—and never would—earn enough to make any profit. It was a losin' battle from the very beginning."

"Then what took you so long to…" Eridanys trailed off, pressing his lips together. Alba wondered what exactly made him bite his tongue, knowing right away what he meant to ask. What took you so long to run away?

"After I fell and hurt my leg…" he said, patting his thigh stretched out on the bed behind him. Grimacing after he flinched. "I just worked in the fish market, waitin' for a sign it was time to go. Didn't know if my mother was alive or dead by that point, since our house was empty when I got back. It was actually a telegram sent from this place that finally gave me reason to get away."

"Why would she be dead?"

Alba gulped against the lump in the back of his throat, but it didn't budge. "They told me from the beginning, if I didn't work, if I didn't perform to their standards, they wouldn't hesitate to kill her. That meant when I broke my hip and couldn't work anymore… Well. Didn't really matter the reason why I stopped workin'. Thought they'd give me more time to beg when I got back, but…"

He trailed off. His voice was beginning to tremble, and he had to remind himself—she wasn't dead. She may have even been tending the same lighthouse he did just before he arrived. She may even still come back for him; he may even still be able to find her once he finished what he owed to Eridanys.

"Once I got back to Welkin, even though she wasn't there, I just… had no idea what to do. I was just a kid when they grabbed me off the street. Didn't know about how to run away, how to get a job, how to find somewhere to live. How to even start makin' my own way. They did that on purpose, in case I ever got any ideas. Might be a miracle I made it all the way here in one piece."

It was bittersweet to recall, to relive every moment from when he first found the telegram in his box, to stabbing Josiah in the leg, to fleeing and somehow finding that place. Recalling how badly his leg ached without a cane to walk on, how he shivered in the rain, all those sailors who shrugged him off when asking for directions, constantly having to check over his shoulder. Knowing he was being followed, even if those looking for him didn't quite have his scent.

It made his heart race even there on the bed, reminded of how that first man found him on the full moon. How there had been others, and Alba had no idea where they went after that night. How even Marco had turned up in Moon Harbor, and even though he claimed it was only a lucky coincidence that they bumped into one another, Alba knew better than to believe that after seeing his father's name written in the town logs. There were no coincidences.

"… plenty of… the mud… need it to pay…"

Alba returned to reality, lifting his head to find Eridanys' eyes back on him.

"What?"

"I said there are treasures without number in the mud of the sea, if you need it to pay off whatever debts you owe."

Letting those words sink in, waiting for Eridanys to smirk before laughing in his face for believing it, Alba eventually cracked a weak smile.

"Yeah, sure," he sighed. "I don't think the Warrens will accept healin' sludge and strands of merrow hair, though. Even if they did, what I'd owe you in exchange would just make it redundant, don't you think? What good is payin' off one debt in exchange for another."

"You're already helping me solve the mystery of my kin. Not to mention shore-called with me so I can be here on land," Eridanys answered sharply, as if to reject his offer was an insult. "Perhaps, instead of killing you when this is all over, I'll bring you as many treasures as you need in exchange."

"Oh, you were thinkin' ‘bout killing me?"

"At first, yes."

"But not anymore?" Alba chuckled. Eridanys didn't return the amusement, even looking embarrassed. Self-conscious, like he hadn't realized until that moment, either. Alba's smile softened.

"You really want to buy out my debt?" he asked, trying to draw the tone back to a teasing one. "What for?"

"Because I know the agony of owing a debt you can never pay back," Eridanys muttered, aggressively shoving the book in his hand back into the pile of clutter. "And you've gone this long without becoming as deranged and bloodthirsty as me. Perhaps I think…" he pressed his lips together. Still avoiding Alba's eyes, like even he didn't know what he was saying. Or why. "Perhaps I simply think it would be a shame if you ever did."

It caught Alba off guard, enough that he didn't realize he held his breath until he could hear his heart thudding in his ears. He didn't know what to say to such a thing—and hated how his heart raced so fast upon hearing it. Even more as the silence lingered between them, as if Eridanys actually wanted to know what Alba thought of it. Letting it linger, like he wanted Alba to know he meant it.

"Well…" Alba finally spoke. A part of him hated the silence. A part of him—wanted to know what other things Eridanys might say that would surprise him. "Your kin said if you wanted to know what happened to them, to go back at midnight tonight. Wasn't that it? So assumin' we stay on shore 'til then… We have all day, so… you'll have plenty of time to prove there are treasures in the sea," he said. Eridanys finally looked at him again, expression firm and unflinching and a mix of regret and apprehension. Alba motioned toward the window. "Come on, convince me. Show me where the treasures lie. In the mud right down there, where other folk are probably already diggin' and taking the shiniest things with the tide out as far as it is. Maybe then I'll sell you my debt."

Eridanys scoffed. He rolled his eyes, slumping back into his pile of things as a silent rejection of something so silly—but then Alba sat up and sighed, braiding his hair and pulling his jacket on for the day.

The siren scoffed a second time. Then groaned. Then straightened up, then rose to his feet. He grabbed Alba by the arm to yank him from the bed, towing him toward the door. Alba laughed loud enough to have to cover his mouth, and smiled all the way out of the house, moving quick and silently to not be seen by a single soul.