The Songs of the Siren

Sylvia gazed at the tranquil sea with despair.

How had such gentle waves killed her husband? And what was she supposed to do, now that he was gone? Her life had revolved around him. She had no family to go to. No friends. No job. She was all alone, and a long way from home.

A wordless melody carried across the waves, haunting and sweet. It called to her as if it knew her. Provided a musical counterpoint to her misery. Sylvia stared into the ocean, searching for the source, but she couldn’t see far in the dusky twilight.

The voice grew louder, closer, and small splashes accompanied it.

Was someone swimming? Should she warn them it wasn’t safe? Darren had been an expert swimmer and still had drowned.

“Who’s there?” she asked.

No one answered, but the song continued.

Was it a real voice? The need to find out burned within her. Could any human sing such a lovely tune? Or was it a natural phenomenon, like the sound of waves in a seashell? A product of wind hitting the coast just right?

She waded in up to her knees, searching.

The melody became more playful. Teasing. Asking her to find it.

She stopped as the chilly waves lapped at her waist. Was this what had killed Darren? Searching for a song?

The melody didn’t stop. Tinkling laughter bubbled inside her head, along with a feminine voice that matched the unearthly tones. “Why do you hesitate? You are so close to your heart's desire.”

“Who are you?”

“Come and see,” the crystalline voice teased.

Sylvia tensed.

More laughter, and then a grinning face came into view.

The details and color were difficult to make out in the moonlight, but something about it didn’t seem quite right. The features too flat. The smile too feral. Inhuman, her inner warning bells chimed. Mermaid. Siren.

“Did you kill him?” Sylvia demanded.

“Who?”

“Darren. My husband.”

The creature stopped smiling and stared at Sylvia as if looking through her. Into her.

After several gut-wrenching moments, it answered with, “You shouldn’t grieve such a one as he.”

“He was my husband!” Sylvia choked back a sob.

“He had a black heart. It is my duty to protect my territory.”

“Protect it from what? He didn’t even fish.”

“Many have fished here. Few have died. I read his sins on his soul, just as I can see his marks on yours. Why grieve for one that hurt you so?”

Hearing a stranger—monster or not—speak the truth Sylvia had denied to herself, cut deeper than Darren’s cruel barbs ever had. Thousands of old wounds bled fresh upon the mermaid’s words. All the ways Darren had belittled her, controlled her. Hurt her. He hadn’t wanted to share her, so he had driven away her friends. Destroyed everything she cared about. Cheated on her, and then convinced her it was her own fault he strayed. Forced her to satisfy him, but never cared if she got pleasure in return.

Sylvia staggered to her knees as a large wave hit. Saltwater splashed in her face and stung her eyes.

The creature had never stopped singing, but now the song changed. A soothing tone, an angelic lullaby.

The music whispered through Sylvia, promising her a better life. Love and joy. Sweetness and light.

“Is this how you lured him in?”

The siren laughed again, but this time it was without mirth. “He would never respond to songs like these. What use does he have for matters of the heart? Much simpler tunes were used to tempt him into the water.”

Sex, then. His lust never could be satisfied.

The song pulled at Sylvia again, urging her to give herself over to the ocean’s embrace.

She waded forward, despite her misgivings. At least if she died here, she might know one moment of peace. One moment of happiness. The song intensified, pulling at her.

She went under as the sand bar abruptly ended.

Gentle arms grabbed her shoulders and brought her head back above the water. A tail, slick and soft, wrapped around her legs and held them together.

Sylvia stared into the mermaid’s large eyes. The song had stopped. “Will you kill me too?” She couldn’t bring herself to care.

The creature grabbed Sylvia’s face, then kissed her. A soul-sucking, mind-bending kiss that didn’t end even as their heads submerged again.

A fierce rapture she’d never known suffused every cell of Sylvia’s body.

Even as the siren stole the last of her breath, and her lungs started to burn, she didn’t mind. It was worth it. She’d never experienced such deep pleasure. If sex had been like this, perhaps she would have understood Darren’s obsession.

Her skin boiled with sensation. Her face felt as if it was melting apart. Despite that, the kiss continued, with both of them pressing so hard against one another that it felt as if they were one. Sylvia was determined to wring every last bit of ecstasy she could get out of this moment, before death took her.

The pain receded as her body went blissfully numb.

And then the kiss ended.

Sylvia’s mouth and throat filled with saltwater.

But she didn’t choke.

Her lungs no longer hurt.

In fact, it felt like she was—breathing? But not from—

She touched her neck and found flaps of skin cut into it. Gills?

Opening her eyes revealed an underwater landscape far brighter and clearer than what she’d seen before. Tapestries of color, stripes and streaks of fiery crimson and soothing magenta. Her legs joined to form a tail.

The siren smiled.

“How?” Sylvia tried to say, but the word came out garbled in the water.

“Many people disappear into the ocean depths. Not all of them drown.”

We at Orion’s Belt delight in presenting “The Songs of the Siren,” an elegant and poignant piece of pain, mystery, and catharsis, written by the wonderful Evergreen Lee.

Evergreen Lee prefers the speculative world to reality. Her too many hobbies include gaming, spoiling cats, tie-dyeing everything, and searching for unicorns. Her short fiction has been published in a variety of venues, including Daily Science Fiction, Factor Four and Departure Mirror. She very occasionally blogs at evergreenlee.com.