They walked on, trotting at steady intervals to give the horses room to breathe, and Mantis distracted herself with the harmless hunt. By the time the Sun started its slow retreat into the horizon, she had gathered two more rabbits and a couple of fat pheasants.

  “That’s impressive!” Teela called out from behind her, excitement clear in her voice.

  Mantis flinched at the sudden sound and turned to give her a look. She was not used to the company, and found herself often forgetting about the youngsters following at her back. She offered no reply, lest the girl get any ideas.

  They made camp shortly after, behind the cover of a dense thicket of bushes that would keep them from the sight of any passing travelers. They managed to catch a few stray insects around the site for Teela’s bird, and then endeavored to cook and eat as much of the fresh rabbit and pheasant meat as would fit in their bellies. They set the rest to smoke as best they could with their weak fire and promptly settled for sleep.

  Teela got Mantis’s tent again, and the boy dared to ask permission to sleep by her side.

  “Yes, Leroh. Why are you asking me this? It’s not my tent.”

  “I don’t see anything wrong with the open air tonight, boy,” Mantis cut into their conversation with a frown. They looked back with confusion and, in the man’s case, an awkward spark of anger in his expression. She could have laughed at it, but her disdain surpassed her amusement just then.

  “Why?” he said.

  She kept her eyes locked on his and slightly tilted her head forward. Her pupils would have dilated to wide pits of blackness with her rising temper, she knew. His entitlement and arrogant defiance had started to grate on her as her inner turmoil grew hotter, and she was starting to come to the decision that she did not enjoy his presence.

  Was she dealing with a man, or a boy? The inconclusive answer was slowly but steadily drifting toward the former.

  She did not want him there.

  “He’s good, Mantis. He’s a good person.” Teela cut in, a little desperately.

  She looked back at the girl and saw her distress in her large brown eyes. Her thin lips were pressed into a trembling line and her hands were clutched at her chest. “We’ll see,” she told her.

  Teela did not understand. The girl knew nothing of what Mantis meant to protect her from. But, she decided, that night was not the time for her to learn.

  As she had the previous day, Mantis extended her thick woolen blanket to the brother and laid out her cloak by the opening of the tent to lay atop. Without further interaction, they set out to rest.

  By high noon the next day, they arrived in Okedam.

  The noise of civilization reached her ears first, then came the first glimpses of the town. Carts and wagons transporting all sorts of goods crowded the winding streets, the loud creak of turning wheels and the clopping of hooves a steady clamor in the background. Vendors yelled out their wares to potential buyers in an unfamiliar drawl that marked their accent, and guided Mantis toward what she assumed would be a main street for commerce. The houses and buildings in brownish gray limestone with terracotta tiled roofs were assembled in a gradient starting smaller and humbler on the outskirts of the town and growing increasingly larger and more stylized as they neared the harbor and epicenter of Okedam.

  Mantis led her charges at a modest trot through the busy streets, and they were watched shamelessly by a variety of curious locals. Faces she recognized as unsworn to any God either turned from them, pained by the sight, or assessed them critically with tightly pinched lips. She saw few youngsters and even fewer children out and about, and noticed plenty of empty or abandoned houses in that area. No one spoke to them as they traversed the humbler outer edges of the Seaside settlement.

  However, as they started to approach the wealthier district located around the port, that quickly changed. There, houses and shop fronts flaunted their opulence in the form of rare cleanliness and useless ornamentation. Heavy lamps wrought in iron and silver displaying intricate designs hung from porches, matched by entirely decorative ironwork along the windows and shutters. Doors of rich woods whose origin she could not even discern were decorated with carved swirls, starfish, bubbles, and all other sorts of marine motifs. Balconies with elegant railings overlooked the street, adorned with well-trimmed flower boxes. Ornate signboards in brightly painted colors and display windows were arranged to entice clientele to admire the fine goods. Gables were decorated with carved bargeboards. Eaves and gutters were used as an opportunity to enrich the facade. It was an aberration.

  Mantis watched the proud faces of those around her. The Sea servants displayed no discernible God traits, but she knew them for what they were from their friendly smiles and greedy eyes, and the uncanny similarity to their facial features. Traits were given to all servants, but whatever theirs were were too subtle for her to pinpoint just then.

  As they were repeatedly hailed from taverns and inns with sweet greetings and charmingly accented offers of comfort, rest and food, Mantis assessed the Sea people with a critical eye, trying to discern any characteristics to tell them apart from the free folk, but was able to discover none. She understood they all possessed gills on their rib cages, but they were not visible through their clothing. Their God was known to equip his own with the trait, to ensure that no Sea servant would fear the environment they’d so permanently tied their lives to.

  The wealthier families, business owners, merchants and power holders would be sworn to the Sea, having reached their positions through him in the first place, and there were also the old nobles already established in Okedam before the Parting who’d given themselves to the Sea God to save a long-possessed social standing. So neatly did the Gods’ new politics consistently reward those who prioritized wealth and comfort over their souls and freedom, and punish the poor bastards who refused to comply.

  Ignoring all their attempts to capture her attention, Mantis aimed for the harbor and kept a steady hold on her focus. The siblings followed close behind, and Teela was hungrily taking the sight in and smiling.

  “They want to convert you. That’s why they’re so friendly,” she told her.

  The girl gave her a guilty nod and strained to rein in her smile. But the spark in her large doe eyes revealed a truth both alarming and slightly fascinating to Mantis.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  The boy was keeping his head and eyes lowered to avoid any contact. He looked pale and tense, and his hands were gripping the reins of the chestnut gelding almost to a tremble. A much more appropriate response, she thought to herself with a scoff.

  The Sea Temple and adjoining castle came into view at a break in the row of tall buildings and, for a moment, Mantis was not sure which was which. The Sea Temple dwarfed the castle that stood overlooking the town. Sea servants had venerated their God in the ominous, dark monstrosity for centuries, but the Parting had motivated them to present to their God yet another offering of subservience, so they had built atop the existing structure to make it much taller.

  The atrocious black stonework now loomed in the distance and awoke a sense of dread in the pit of her stomach.

  “Is that where their God lives?” Teela asked, too interested to keep her voice down.

  “No,” Leroh silenced her.

  When Mantis led them down the path to the harbor, they did not question her decision and followed in silence.

  The Sea servants continued to watch them and smile agreeably, but none attempted to interact with them beyond a welcoming offer to patronize their businesses. With horror and dread, she also noticed the increasing number of small children and teenagers running around on the streets, parents nowhere in sight. Boys and girls held hands and showed outward signs of affection to each other. Older children kissed in alleys and porches, unabashed. A pregnant girl of no more than twelve sat beside an older child on a delicately carved stone bench in a public square, and another, maybe a year younger, walked holding hands with her sweetheart and rubbed her bulging belly protectively with a hand.

  Mantis’s face relaxed into an expression of resigned emptiness. Her chest ached, not just with the pressure of the Sea God’s souls, and she forced herself to look away. This, unlike the perversions of mankind, she could not fight. Nothing could be done for the immorality of the deities.

  They stabled their horses at an establishment that seduced them at just the right time, and walked the rest of the way down to the mouth of the harbor. A beautiful woman in a light blue dress with very full skirts welcomed them and offered them a brilliant white smile as they approached her booth. An elegantly worded sign above her head read “information” in bright blue letters.

  “Good day to you! May I be of assistance?” Her voice had a melodic ring to it, and her Okedam accent, similarly to the other Sea servants they’d encountered, drew out her vowels to a charming, almost musical, sound.

  “Yes. We must see the Sea God, as soon as possible,” Mantis replied and looked gravely into her blue eyes. “Please.”

  “The Sea himself?” She was shocked, but continued to smile prettily. “Oh, my! That is a very unusual request. Why, may I ask, do you require such an audience?”

  “It is urgent business.”

  “From what God?” She gave Mantis a small tilt of the corners of her lips and blinked slowly, as if to assure her that she meant no offense by the question. None was taken.

  “I cannot answer that. But I assure you, it is a most pressing matter. I must see him at once.”

  “Of course,” she said. Her gleaming deep red hair had blown across her face on a salty breeze and she lifted a hand to brush it aside. Her every movement looked effortlessly gracious, as if she’d learned from the waves themselves. There was a flowing quality to her motion that could only be described as enthralling, drawing the eye to her and holding it there. “That can certainly be arranged for you, ma’am.”

  Mantis felt quite relaxed, at that moment. The nice woman would help her reach the Sea God, and then all would go back to normal. The sound of the ocean meeting the rocks of the shore and the soft wood of the pier was like a lullaby that she’d never learned to pay attention to, but, just then, she could sense it, and she felt immensely soothed by it.

  The delicately-attired stranger stepped aside from her little booth of white painted wood and offered Mantis her elbow. She took it with a hand and followed her down the swaying planks of the pier.

  With her hand clasped around the stranger’s soft arm, she looked down for a moment to admire the smooth skin in contact with her fingertips. Not a single hair textured the warm, creamy skin. It was as if she’d been modeled out of the purest clay. Her blue eyes almost smiled at her when she raised her gaze to meet them again. As bottomless as the Sea, the inky azure depths of color caught and engulfed her. Sun-touched cheeks, blushed the softest pink and speckled with light brown freckles, and lips of sweet rose invitingly beamed at her in a smile that erased all pains and concerns from her heart. Mantis smiled back.

  Teela dared to poke her head forward in an attempt to see the red-haired woman more clearly. She was a siren, she understood. But was Mantis not aware of it?

  They were holding arms, as if they’d known each other for a long time and shared a confidence built with years. The stranger was leading them down the pier, and Mantis followed eagerly, staring into her eyes and simpering, not even looking ahead to notice that no boats were tied to it.

  It was a disturbing sight. Teela had never before seen Mantis smile, but the expression on her face did not look right at all. Was she pretending to follow the stranger’s lead to some end Teela did not understand? Would she be interfering with some bigger plan she was unaware of if she spoke up and warned Mantis to be careful? She knew nothing of their world, their people. It would go against all she’d been trying to cultivate to mishandle a situation of such high risk and further enforce Mantis’s perception that she was nothing but a stupid little girl.

  Leroh walked beside her. But, she was horrified to realize, he was smiling at the sight of the women ahead of them. His eyes were halfway lidded and his lips loosely stretched into a smile that brought up the pronounced dimples of his cheeks.

  “She’s a siren!” she exclaimed and caught his limp hand. He did not flinch, or show any sign that he’d heard her words.

  What was worse was that Mantis seemed to have gone deaf, as well. She continued to walk forward with her gaze unmoved from the siren’s beautiful face.

  Teela watched in horror as the stranger’s hands rose to cup Mantis’s neck and, positioning Mantis’s body with her back to the water, the siren started to slowly push her face nearer to hers. The woman was tilting ever so slightly forward, and, Teela knew, unknowingly to her, so was Mantis.

  Before they could both plunge into the splashing waves colliding against the wooden planks of the pier, Teela sprung forward and used all the strength of her young body to push into the women. Her left hand shot down to cup Homely’s nest protectively at her waist, and her right arm extended forward to catch Mantis by the shoulders.

  The three of them fell sprawled on the wooden surface, a hand’s width away from the edge of the walkway.

  “Teela! What are you doing? Let go of them. Get up! What is the matter with you?” her brother said as he came to grab her by the upper arm and, squeezing tightly, he pulled her to her feet.

  Mantis looked dazed. Her brow was furrowed as she studied the woman beside her on the ground and shook her head in confusion. Then, as if catching a glimpse of something, her eyes snapped down to the siren’s legs that now peeked out from under her raised skirts, which had blown upward in the tumble of their fall.

  She had scales. Iridescent scales in vivid cobalt blue, like a fish’s, but larger, and much lovelier. They covered the skin of her legs like a tight garment, molding to the curves and planes of her limbs. Not a patch of skin there was without them.

  Then a sound Teela had never heard before increased her shock at the already astounding sight.

  Mantis was laughing. A low, breathy chuckle steadily grew to a roaring, screaming howl of laughter that could only be described as hysterical, and Teela knew not what to say or do.

  She had gone mad.