Daughter of the siren queen (an Ateez fanfiction)

Chapter 19

I grab Seonghwa by the shoulder and pin his face against the nearest wall in the room. "Seonghwa, come out of it." He strains against me, swings an arm, pushes off the wall with his feet. "Damn it, Seonghwa. Stop!" He jerks his head backward, connects with my nose. Blood runs down into my mouth. I wipe it off my face with my arm. All right, that does it. I grab the nearest sturdy object within reach, a pretty glass jar from the island of Naula that holds my hairpins. What a shame, I think as I bring it down on his head. It shatters, and he goes limp. I rummage through my things until I find the wax I brought for the men. I shove some into Seonghwa's ears before hurrying outside. Sorinda has Jongho flat on his back, her sword pommel ready to strike again if the first hit didn't do the trick. "Here," I say, tossing her the wax. Mandsy and Niridia have Mingi's arms pinned behind his back as he squirms against the ground. I rush over to help them get his ears covered. San is already unconscious on the ground near them, and Niridia approaches him next with a ball of wax. Then that leaves— 

"Papa! Come back here." 

Wooyoung.

I dash down the stairs, collide with Wooyoung in his rush to get above deck. The two of us roll head over heels all the way down the steps. I groan as I rub my head, but Wooyoung is already back on his feet, ignoring the pain as he tries for the stairs again. Roslyn races ahead of me and launches herself at Wooyoung, wrapping her tiny arms around his legs. She gets her legs around him, too, and squeezes with all her might. It sends him to the ground again, which gives me the time I need to reach them. I dig a knee into his back, force the wax into his ears. He stills. "It's okay, Roslyn," I say. "You can let go now." She does and lets out a long breath. "That was close." "You did great," I tell her. Wooyoung stands, rubs at his side, which he must have hit on our tumble down the stairs. I point to my own ears. He reaches for his, feels the wax. Realization shows in his eyes. Roslyn puts an arm around him. He nods to me. I leave the two of them, returning up top. "How are they doing?" I ask Niridia. "Mingi's back to himself. Seonghwa, Jongho, and San are passed out cold. We tied them to the mast, lest they try to unplug their ears first thing upon waking. Sorinda is keeping an eye on them." "Good. The island isn't even in view yet," I say. "I know. Perhaps the sirens are taking a swim away from its shores?" "Or their song reaches farther than we realized." Niridia's eyes widen. "You really think so?" "No way to know." "It's probably too much to hope that the king will be caught unaware like we were." I snort. "He'll probably send a ship far ahead of his to test out the waters first." Niridia grimaces. My father's cruelty really knows no bounds. "I want to know the second the island comes into view," I say. "Aye."

The singing comes and goes as we sail, but we dare not allow the men to uncover their ears. Not for an instant. It's a full week before the Isla de Canta comes into view. A full week without talking to our men. A full week without being able to talk to Seonghwa. I observe the isle now through my telescope. Trees cover the place, making it impossible to see anything else. Another jungle like the island we passed by in our search for water. On a piece of parchment, I write, See if you can find somewhere out of sight to drop anchor. Jongho reads it and nods. Seonghwa stands by my side on the aftercastle. He doesn't speak; he couldn't hear my response if he tried. But his presence is a comfort. The closer we approach the island, the louder the singing becomes. The singing that interrupted me and Seonghwa. I suppose I could have pulled him back to bed with me when he came to. He certainly doesn't need his ears for it, but I don't want to take that step with him when he doesn't have use of all of his senses. Not for the first time. I go warm just thinking about it, and I quickly turn my thoughts back to the island ahead. But that only heightens my anxiety. Is my mother nearby? I equally dread and relish the idea of speaking to her again. I want to ask her—no, demand of her why she left me. I want to know what's become of her. Is she still fragile and weak? Does she remember our meeting at the keep at all? Or is she now a senseless monster with nothing but a need to kill men?