He should have been told I wasn’t human. That was the worst part. But the crew found amusement in watching the fresh ones get all worked up over me.

The boy, whom I’d heard called Harrison or maybe Harold, was waxing the deck, his large eyes flitting over to me and then hastily back to the floor. I continued my song, closing my eyes to listen to it roll out over the waves, placating my kin who swam far below so our ship would sail to shore untouched.

When I concluded with one last lilting note, I turned to the captain, a greyed man with leathery skin from many a year aboard.

“The wind tells me a storm will stand between us tonight. I must rest my voice whilst we sail in sunlight.”

He only nodded. The captain, in his age, was superstitious against my kind. Remembered the days he and his men feared the song that now keeps them safe. Smart man.

I made my way down to the deck, where the foolish boy was daring to openly stare. He gripped his mop tightly, repeatedly swallowing as he seemed to be working up the nerve to speak. Thankfully, he was unsuccessful, and I made my way belowdecks in peace.

In the tiny mess hall, Kielman and O’Connell were playing some game of stabbing a knife between their fingers. They looked up at the clatter as I cracked open the saltwater barrel with my rations.

“Kid speak up yet? I got money on him screwin’ up the courage before the end of the voyage, you know.” said Kielman with a chuckle.

Even with our differences, most of the crewman weren’t so bad. Their humor was crude and they stunk like tobacco and alcohol, but as long as they had the good sense to mind their gazes and hands, we got along well enough.

“I would know, as my bet lays with yours. I predict he will become emboldened enough before nightfall.”

The door bangs open for none other than the foolish boy to stride in, face reddened and breathless. Kielman and O’Connell halt their knife game, stiffling their conversation at once.

“Uh. Um. Hello there. What’re you doing down here?” He sputters, then grimaces at his tactlessness.

I fix him with a sultry look, still standing over the open saltwater barrel. “I am fetching something to eat.“

“Of course, yeah. I, uh. I wanted to tell you something. If that’s alright.” He rubs the nape of his neck.

I wait, staring unblinkingly as he had earlier.

“I just, uh. I wanna tell you that I think you’re real pretty, and that I’d like to treat you to dinner or somethin’ next we dock.” His words come out in a single exhale, running together clumsily.

I sigh, turning my attention back to the saltwater barrel. I plunge my arms in, stirring the kelp as my clawed fingers search for slimy, tough skin.

“What’re you…”

With a splash, I pull a small squid from the forest of loose kelp, the thing still writhing in my grasp. Keeping my eyes locked with his, which now are filled with strained confusion instead of shy apprehension, I bite viscously into the head of it, its juices spurting out over my hands as it goes still.

“What do they call you, boy?” I say, licking the blue blood off my fingers one by one.

“Harrington.” He sqeaks.

“Do you know what I am now, Harrington?”

“You’re a siren.” His voice descends into a miserable whisper.

“That’s right, boy. Now, run along, back above deck, and ask those so-called friends of yours why they let you make such an ass of yourself these last few weeks.”

He turns and dashes right back out the door without another word while Kielman and O’Connell explode with laughter.