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Nox’s siblings had all cracked cleanly from their shells, wriggling into the water like the tide had been waiting just for them. He hadn’t. His egg had held two heartbeats, two shadows. Onyx.
He still remembered the tight press of scales against scales, the way the yolk thinned as if it had to choose between them. Twins weren’t rare. Even one being absorbed wasn’t rare. But knowing he had done the swallowing, that he had carried Onyx into himself, left a shiver crawling up his spine.
Sometimes he wondered if the name Onyx belonged to him now, too—if he was two mers in one skin, if the silence inside his chest wasn’t silence at all, but breathing that wasn’t his.
All of his siblings lived in the ocean, some venturing near the surface, like Silver, who occasionally appeared before knights, gracing them with swords so many times that Violet joked humans must have called her the Lady of the Lake.
Violet. She was the sister Nox felt closest to. Mostly because she didn’t stare at him like the others did, like he was broken—or worse, unnatural. There was something wrong with his tail. Its scales carried the patterns of both his dominant color, black, and Onyx’s—white, moonstone, glowing faintly in the light.
The others couldn’t look at it for long. The shimmer made them uneasy. But Violet… she swam beside him, always, eyes steady. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t whisper. And somehow, in her presence, the shiver down his spine—the one he always felt thinking of Onyx—eased, just a little.
Violet had told him she was like him, that her magic leaned toward the darker side too, unlike their other siblings, whose spells were lighter and more harmless. It was one of the things that made her easier to be around, the only sibling who understood the weight of power humming in him.
Humans called them sirens, though Violet had explained it didn’t really matter. Mermaids and sirens were the same creatures, just labeled differently depending on fate. One might be captured and forced into a freakshow, their song a lure for coin and curiosity; the other would be killed.
Nox had seen humans only a few times, and even Silver—once the friendliest toward them—had begun darting away at the first sight. When he was young, he hadn’t noticed, but their family was always moving, fleeing reefs whenever a human town appeared on the horizon. Soon, there were almost no safe places left. Nets sliced through the waters, and even the reefs they relied on began to die.
Then, like it or not, Silver and Nox were caught in a fishing net. On deck, the fishermen started separating them. Panic roared in Nox’s chest. He summoned the lionfish spines along his back, sharp points glinting in the sun. One man reached for Silver, and Nox acted without hesitation—he drove the spines into the man’s chest, impaling him.
He grabbed Silver as the blood poured, dragging them both back into the sea. The red water clung to his fins, to his scales, a memory he would never forget. The scent, the weight of it, the way it marked him… it became part of him. Every time he swam past the surface, he could still see the blood streaking the waves that day.
“I hate humans,” Violet told Nox later that night. “I know Silver hates them too. She would never tell you this, but once… we saw a slave ship.”
“What’s a slave ship?” Nox asked.
“When humans steal one another,” Violet said, her voice low, “and force one group into the service of another. It means the people inside… they have no freedom.”
“How did you know it was a slave ship?”
Violet’s eyes darkened. “We could hear the wailing. Humans are the only creatures I know who take freedom from one another. That day… it was the only time Silver begged me to wreck the ship. And I did. But…” She hesitated, and Nox could see the memory weighing her down. “We couldn’t save them all. There were too many, even with the twelve of us. They couldn’t swim away—they’d been too long under their chains. Ever since then, Silver has stayed away from humans.”
Nox felt a chill under his scales. The cruelty, the helplessness—it clung to him, mixing with the memory of the blood he had shed on the deck of that fishing boat.“They died under the waves,” Violet said, her voice trembling slightly, “and the worst part… the absolute worst part… is that they never even wanted to be on that ship. And still… they died.”
Nox shivered, tail curling under him. The water around him felt colder, heavier, as if it carried the memory of those lost voices. He understood too well the cruelty of a world where even freedom wasn’t enough to save someone, where death came regardless of choice.
“Why are humans so powerful,” Nox asked, “if they can’t do what we do?”
Violet tilted her head, considering him. “The same way we are powerful beneath the waves, they have their own ways. They can use their hands in ways no animal can. They run, they walk—that’s perfect for a life on land, just like swimming is perfect for us.”
She paused, her gaze distant. “And they have their faiths, like we do. Only… they use the afterlife to scare one another, while we—” she let out a quiet sigh—“we just accept that we will die. What will be… will be.”
Nox thought about it, the way humans wielded fear like a weapon, while his kind faced the tide and the currents and the inevitability of the deep. There was a weight to that acceptance, and in some strange way, it made the ocean feel steadier beneath him.
“The most important thing to learn, Nox,” Violet said, her tone sharper than usual, “is that you must never become enchanted by a human’s singing.”
“Why would I do that?” he asked, genuinely puzzled.
“We mers sing by instinct. We love by instinct. But humans…” Her eyes narrowed, distant, as if staring into a memory that hurt to touch. “Humans court their lovers. They sing to them. That’s how they lure one another. Our parents—” she faltered, then steadied herself—“our parents courted a human once. And they were betrayed by that same lover.”
Her hand caught his wrist, grip fierce. “Promise me, Nox. Promise me you won’t be like them. Promise me.”
Nox swallowed, uncertain why her words scraped so deep inside him, but he nodded all the same. “I promise.”
“We should move again,” Bronze murmured to his siblings, thinking Nox was asleep. “There are too many humans near these waters.”
“The waters are so dark here,” Violet said plainly. “Nox likes it. With his dark scales, he won’t get caught easily by humans.”
“It’s unfair that we moved so much during his young life,” Silver said quietly to Bronze. “I know it couldn’t be helped… but at least we had Mom and Dad back then. Nox… he was their last child, and they didn’t even get to see him hatch from his egg.”
“Because of the humans,” Bronze replied, his voice low, “which is why we should move.”
“I’m hungry, and there’s food here,” Goldie said sharply, breaking the tension.
“I have fish to play with,” Stripe added, and the arguments flared among the twelve of them, voices overlapping, each insisting on their own point.
Finally, Bronze sighed, giving in. “Fine. We’ll stay… for now.”
“There’s also the fact…” Silver began, her voice tight. “…we’ve been swimming for so long, Bronze. And not once have we encountered another mermaid. You don’t think we’re the last, do you? The last thirteen mermaids that will ever exist?”
Bronze flinched at the question. “We mers have always been a solitary group. It’s… not likely.”
“But still,” Silver pressed, frustration edging her words, “out of all the waters we’ve traveled to, there’s no sign of another like us.”
Bronze’s gaze softened, trying to ease her worry. “They’re out there, Silver. I know we aren’t the last.”
The problem was… Nox couldn’t keep his promise to Violet. He wanted to, desperately. But one night, he heard it—a sound that drew him in.
A human boy. Blond hair catching the lantern light, honey-brown eyes bright as he hummed softly while walking beside a tall, lanky man. He sang something about God, or whatever humans sang about, though Nox didn’t care for the words. He only cared for the sound. The way it spilled from the boy’s lips, light and effortless.
Nox watched as the boy ran ahead, twirling on the cobblestones, the motion careless, joyous, perfect. Every detail about him seemed… lovely. Dangerous, yes, and utterly human, Nox reminded himself. But lovely all the same.
The next time Nox saw the human boy, he was carrying flowers. Carefully, he placed them at a stone, bowing his head slightly as he did so.
Nox tilted his head, puzzled. Stone… stonefish? Could the boy’s father be turned to stone too, like his own had been?
A tug of sadness curled in Nox’s chest as he watched the boy cry. Mers didn’t cry—not like humans—but he understood, in his own way. Humans only ever came to the water when they wanted to drown something inside them. Perhaps tears were their way of releasing it, letting the weight of emotions flow out so they wouldn’t drown from them entirely.
He lingered in the shadows, silent, watching the boy grieve, feeling a strange kinship with someone so completely human.
Nox was about to retreat when his elbow struck a stick.
“Hello? Is someone there?” the boy called, standing up. Nox panicked, diving toward the shadows of the waves, but it was too late—the boy had seen him.
Instead of screaming or throwing a fit, the boy froze for a moment and then said something entirely unexpected: “You’re… a mer. Wow. My ma used to tell me stories about mermaids, but I thought they weren’t real… you guys really are beautiful.”
Beautiful?
The word reverberated in Nox’s mind. He had never imagined a human calling him beautiful—unless it was meant to mock him, to twist him into something smaller, weaker. And yet… the boy wasn’t laughing, wasn’t sneering. He was simply… awed.
Nox’s fins trembled slightly under the water. Something unfamiliar stirred in his chest: curiosity, perhaps, or the tiniest flicker of trust.
The human’s name, Nox later learned, was Chase. The name made him think of golden retrievers—dogs Goldie had described once, the ones who sometimes ran into the water chasing ducks and other things.
Chase. The golden-retriever boyfriend. Somehow, the name had a nice ring to it, Nox supposed, and he found himself oddly amused by the thought.
Chase was fascinated by the way Nox’s tail moved through the water, how every flick and curl seemed effortless, fluid, alive.
Then, in turn, Chase showed Nox a little about something humans called dancing. He kicked his legs up, twirled around, arms sweeping in the air, moving in ways that seemed strange and rigid compared to the smooth flow of the sea.
“It’s… a bit more complicated than swimming, I suppose,” Chase said, laughing a little at himself. “I mean, your tail is kinda like two legs meshed together, but for me… I’ve got two legs, and one is slightly stronger than the other. I always have to remind myself of that when I’m dancing.”
Nox tilted his head, intrigued. The motions were clumsy yet deliberate, and somehow, the human’s enthusiasm made him want to mimic the strange, land-bound movements—even if it felt awkward with a tail instead of legs.
“I’m also shorter than most humans,” Chase said, shrugging slightly. “Which is kinda good for dancing, because it means I can land jumps more easily. But… it also means I don’t usually get the leading roles in festivals. I used to be pretty bummed about that.”
He paused, a small smile tugging at his lips. “But I also sing—at my church choir. That helps, I guess.”
Nox tilted his head, listening. Humans were strange creatures, he realized, full of awkward limitations and odd compensations, yet somehow… it made them interesting.
Why did you come up here?” Chase asked, watching Nox carefully.
Nox pointed at the base of his throat.
“Oh… charades. Um… okay, your throat hurts?”
Nox shook his head, then pointed at Chase’s throat.
“My throat… you mean my voice?” Chase asked, raising an eyebrow.
Nox nodded, a faint blush rising along his fins and scales.
“You wanted to hear my voice?” Chase said, realization dawning, and a warmth crept into his cheeks as well.
Nodding again, Nox stayed still, heart racing.
“Sure,” Chase said, stepping closer. “I can sing for you. I don’t know how much of the song you’ll understand—it’s about Heaven and stuff—but a fan is a fan, after all.”
And then Chase sang, his voice flowing over the water, soft and clear, curling around Nox like sunlight through the waves.
They continued to meet like that, Nox and Chase, by the water.
Chase held up three fingers. “I live with my aunt and uncle… and my cousin, Deacon.”
Nox lifted ten fingers.
“You live with ten people? Gee… and I thought living with Deacon was bad enough.”
Nox shook his head.
“More than ten people… um… eleven?”
Nox shook his head again.
“Twelve?”
Nox nodded.
“You have twelve siblings? Wow… that seems… cool. Is it cool?”
Nox paused, thinking for a moment. He loved his siblings, yes, but sometimes he still felt lonely. With a small shrug of his shoulders, he admitted it silently.
Nox paused, thinking. He knew he couldn’t shapeshift into a human, but perhaps he could use his magic in another way… He thought of the human he had killed once, the one whose life had ended under his spines.
Whispers of dark energy pulsed in his throat as he muttered some words under his breath. Then, he looked at Chase.
“Can you understand me now?” Nox asked.
Chase’s jaw dropped. “You… you can talk now?”
“I mean… yes and no,” Nox said carefully. “I had to borrow this voice. I don’t really have vocal cords the way humans do—otherwise…”
“Otherwise what?” Chase asked, tilting his head, eyes wide.
“I mean… it’s complicated siren magic,” Nox replied, the dark shimmer of energy still faintly swirling around him.
“I think if you were human, you’d be from England,” Chase said with a grin. “You sound English.”
“Again… not my voice,” Nox reminded him. “I just borrowed this one.”
“But you’re speaking with it,” Chase replied, matter-of-fact. “So, to me… this is your voice.”
“Okay, Nox,” Chase said, eyes bright with anticipation. “I want to teach you something. But… can you come up in your kelpie form? I think it’ll only work if you have legs.”
Nox hesitated, then reluctantly stepped out of the water. His legs felt strange and foreign after so long swimming, but he trusted Chase.
Chase hummed softly under his breath and gave a small bow. Nox, in his kelpie form, tried to mirror it as best he could, stumbling slightly.
With Nox’s permission, Chase carefully placed a bridle around him and guided him through a few steps—first to the right, then back to the left.
“This is called the waltz,” Chase explained, his voice warm. “For humans, it’s a very romantic dance.”
Nox nodded. He could only dance like this in kelpie form, of course; he would never truly be human. But still… it was exhilarating. To move, guided by someone else, to feel the rhythm of the land instead of the sea… it was something new, and he liked it.
“You’ve been sneaking off with a human,” Violet accused, her voice sharp as stone. Nox startled, thinking she hadn’t been in the cave.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, trying to keep his tone flat.
“You’re such a liar.” Her eyes flashed. “I saw you with that boy. You let him put a bridle on you. Have you no pride?”
“Of course I do,” Nox snapped back, then softened when he saw the hurt in her face. “But as you can see, I’m fine.”
“Fine now,” Violet shot back, her voice trembling. “But humans are cruel creatures, Nox. You could have been killed.”
Nox’s throat tightened. “Chase would never hurt me.”
“He might not,” Violet said, stepping closer, her hand balled into a fist. “But he lives in a town full of them. They aren’t like us. They know nothing but selfishness, nothing but power over others. You needn’t be so naïve.”
“What’s going on?” Bronze asked, peeking into the cave. Both Violet and Nox turned sharply toward him and, as if by instinct, said nothing. The silence was louder than words.
“Violet…” Nox began, guilt in his voice.
“Don’t.” Violet’s voice cracked as she cut him off. “I already lost Mother. I already lost Father. I don’t want to lose you too.” Her eyes flicked to Bronze. “Do you think I made him move us because I wanted to? No. I did it for you. And now—” her lip trembled, “—now you fall for a human. You talk to one of them, and every time I try to protect you, you push me aside.”
Nox’s chest ached at her words. “I do listen to you,” he whispered. “But it’s… it’s hard. Being here with you all, twenty-four seven, always haunted by memories you got to keep but I never had. I wanted a memory of my own, Violet. Just one that wasn’t shadows and loss.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And you chose a human.”
“Yes.” His voice steadied, even as his hands shook. “Because there’s one human—just one—who cares about me. And I want to keep seeing him.”
“And if he betrays you?” Violet’s voice was a knife, shaking with both rage and grief.
Nox met her gaze, refusing to look away. “He won’t.”
“I can only pray to the sea itself that you’ll be safe,” Violet whispered.
“The sea…” Nox echoed, the word rolling off his tongue with uncertainty.
Violet cleared her throat, her voice quieter now. “I lied to you once. We mers do have beliefs—just as humans do. We used to believe in a story… about a merman who fell for a human man. Some say the seafoam and the surf themselves are born of them—of the merman and the human forever meeting at the shore. Their lips touch where their lower halves never could. Forever and ever, kissing where the waves break.”
Her eyes clouded, and her voice faltered. “But I stopped believing in it after our folks died.”
That had been a while ago, and Violet had been right—humans could betray. But not Chase. Never Chase.
Nox remembered clearly: Chase had gotten him back into the sea, riding him when he was in kelpie form, steady and unafraid, trusting him completely. Not the Chase falling into his arms now. Not the Chase who would drown without a way to stay underwater.
Nox’s siblings stared, confusion rippling through them as they tried to understand why he had brought a human so deep into their waters. There was no time to explain.
Violet moved quickly, murmuring words of power with sharp precision. A soft glow surrounded Chase, and with a gasp, he realized he could breathe underwater. Where once legs had been, a teal tail now shimmered, sleek and strong, propelling him through the water beside Nox.
Nox exhaled slowly, relief and a surge of something warmer pooling in his chest. Chase was safe. And for now… he was one of them.
“So let me get this straight…” Bronze began, folding his arms.
“Nothing about this story is very straight,” Chase interrupted, raising his hands defensively. “Sorry—human expression.”
“You—Nox—talked to a human, despite being warned that it was a bad idea. You—Violet—knew about this human called Chase but didn’t tell me. You’ve both been lying for months. And now you’re saying a whole town of humans knows about our existence, and the only reason you’re currently alive, Nox, is because your boyfriend and his cousin Deacon helped you escape… along with a very angry horse called Boris. Is that about right?” Bronze rattled off, eyes narrowing as Violet, Nox, and Chase exchanged guilty looks.
“Yep,” Chase said simply, shrugging.
Bronze pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t really know you, Chase, so I can’t punish you… but you two? You are so in trouble later.”
“If Nox almost dying isn’t punishment enough, I don’t know what is,” Chase said, stepping forward in defense of Nox.
“Fine,” Bronze huffed. “Then Violet’s the only one getting punished — you’ll clean out the cave for an entire month.”
“That’s not fair,” Violet protested. “There are going to be fourteen people living in one cave now!”
“Exactly,” Bronze said flatly. “That’s why it’s a punishment.”
“Are you going to miss it?” Nox asked, his voice low as the currents carried them at the back of the pod toward newer waters.
“I’ll miss my cousin Deacon,” Chase admitted, “but I choose you, Nox. And if I had to, I’d choose you again.”
Nox’s tail flicked nervously. “I choose you too, Chase… it’s just— I can’t believe you’d give up your humanity for me.”
Chase’s lips curved into a small, almost mischievous smile. “Maybe that’s what love does to a person. But I don’t really like the word ‘humanity.’ If it only means empathy, then I haven’t lost mine. I’ve always had empathy for you, Nox… because you listened to me. You listened to my voice. You wanted me. You’ve got more humanity than you realize.”
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