Continuous with chapter 1

With that sole desire pulsing through me, I walked toward the metal rails. It would be a pleasure to drink myself full until every blast piece of me was sated. I was barely aware of hoisting myself over the side, barely aware of anything, until the hard smack of water on my face brought me back to my senses.

I was going to die.

*No*! I thought as I fought to get back to the surface. *I'm not ready! I want to live*! Nineteen years was not enough. There were still so many foods to taste and places to visit.

A husband, I hoped, and a family. All of it, everything, gone in a split second.

Really?

I didn't have time to doubt reality of the voice I was hearing. Yes!

*What would you give to stay alive*?

*Anything*!

In an instant, I was dragged out of the fray. It was as if an arm was looped around my waist, pulling with precision as I shot past body after body until I was free of them. I soon found myself lying on my back, staring up at three inhumanly lovely girls.

For a moment, all my horror and confusion disappeared. Three was no storm, no family, no fear. All that ever had been or ever would be were these beautiful, perfect faces, I squinted, studying them, making the only guess that seemed possible.

“Are you angels?” I asked. “Am I dead?”

The closest girl, who had eyes as green as the emeralds in Mama's earrings and brilliant red hair that billowed around her face, bent down. “You're very much alive,” she promised, her voice tinted with a British accent.

I gaped at her. If I was still alive, wouldn't my eyes be burning from the water? Wouldn't I still be feeling the sting on my face from where I fell? Yet I felt perfect, complete. I was either dreaming or dead. I had to be.

In the distance, I could hear screams. I lifted my head, and just over the waves I spotted the tail of our ship as it bobbed surreally out of the water.

I look several ragged breaths, too confused to grasp how I was still breathing, all the while listening to others drown around me.

“What do you remember?” she asked.

I shook my head. “The carpet.” I searched my memories, already feeling them becoming distant and blurry. “And my mother's hair,” I said, my voice cracking, “Then I was in the water.”

“Did you ask to live?”

“I did,” I sputtered, wondering if she could read my mind or if everyone else had thought it, too. “Who are you?”

“I'm Marilyn,” she replied sweetly. “This is Aisling.” She pointed to a blind girl who gave me a small, warm smile. “And that is Nombeko.” Nombeko was a dark as the night sky and appeared to have nearly no hair at all.

“We're singers, Sirens. Servants to the Ocean,” Marilyn explained. “What would the Ocean eat?”

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