The Siren and the Scholar

Chapter 1

What is happening to me?  

Sunlight fell in beams through the roiling green water around me, bubbles rising to the surface as I flailed about.

I was in my own lake, but frightened and confused and . . . My tail! Oh, such pain—as if someone took a knife and split me from my tail fins upward. I screamed, but there was no sound. There was no one around to hear me anyway, not even any fish. No one came to help me. I thrashed and fought, but there was no one to fight.

"Mother!" I cried. I thought I sensed her near, but I heard no answer.

My familiar surroundings seemed blurred and foreign. Then I tried to breathe and choked on water. Wait, what? Why couldn't I breathe like always?

My body had changed; I knew it now. My tail was no longer a tail, and it felt different. The lake water against my skin felt cold because I had no scales anymore. I had bare skin everywhere, like a human! And I wore not just a swimsuit top, but the bottom piece too, like human girls do. It was uncomfortable, but after the pain of losing my tail, such a little discomfort was nothing.

Not being able to breathe, now that was a problem! Pulling with my arms and kicking a little with my legs, which didn't go very well, I reached the surface and coughed until I could suck in a long breath without choking. It had never felt so good to breathe air before, and the blue sky above was a comfort after the cold, threatening green depths of . . . my home.

Oh, this was so not good, and I had no idea whatsoever why it was happening to me.

Paddling with my arms and hands, I turned to locate myself. I was floating in a northeast bay of Faraway Lake, still within sight of the castle, but far enough away that the people on the beach and docks looked like grains of sand. A ski boat approached slowly; I saw three human faces staring directly at me. That was a shock, since humans can't usually see me unless I speak to them. Staff members at the castle can see magical creatures like me, since most of them have a little magic of their own. But the guests? Almost never.

I couldn't truly be human, could I? I mean, I was born a siren, and everything I knew about life was from my merfolk perspective. Mother had done this—she turned me into a human. But why? What had I done to deserve having my tail chopped in half and being nearly drowned in my own home? I was terrified and angry and shivering with cold, and wet hair plastered my face and shoulders.

"Are you all right?" The voice sounded feminine.

"What happened to you?" another female asked.

"Strange to see a girl out here alone in the lake." That was a deep voice edged with amusement. "She doesn't look like she's drowning."

I flung hair out of my face and peered up at the boat. One of the females was driving, of course. Men were forbidden to drive any of the resort's boats, and for good reason: My sisters loved to siren call any young man who got close to our island, smile and beckon, then send a whirlpool or wave to crash his boat or canoe against the rocks. They never harmed anyone, yet such activities were generally frowned upon. By the human women, anyway. Mother once told us that some humans talked about banning us, but everyone knew that the sirens at Faraway Lake attracted new young men to the resort every summer. Even though few of them ever caught a glimpse of us, there was always that chance.

The boat drew near, and a large hand appeared in front of me. It had soft skin, like my hands, but there was black hair growing on the arm above it. How hideous! Why did male and female humans both have soft hands? A man should have webbed hands and feet, and scales on his arms and face. My sister Moselle often wondered aloud how humans tell the males from the females, and the rest of us always nodded in agreement.