“Alosa,” Vordan says, “you are here so I can learn all the skills you possess. For if I can’t use you to help me reach the Isla de Canta, then I will use you to learn all about sirens so I can be adequately protected once I’m there.”

An ice-cold dread freezes me.

I’m to be his experiment.

Chapter 17

“WHAT?” I SAY BECAUSE I can’t think of anything else to say.

“I can’t very well expect you to be honest about your abilities, so I’ll have to determine them for myself,” Vordan says. “Together, Alosa, we will identify all the powers sirens possess.”

He doesn’t realize how terrifying I find the prospect. How could he know how much I loathe, and sometimes fear, using my abilities? I hate the way I feel inside and out. I hate the emotional toll they take on me. And then there’s the way I change when I have to replenish my abilities. Vordan will have me demonstrate everything over and over. The thought causes bile to rise in my throat. I swallow it back down.

“I am only partially a siren,” I say in desperation. “What I can and can’t do will not apply to the creatures you will find at the Isla de Canta. I am of no use to you.”

Vordan pulls at the hair on his chin. “That is not true. Even if you are not as powerful as a true siren, your abilities will give me the information I need to prepare for such a venture.”

During our quick exchange, Vordan’s men have been moving. They place their buckets about five feet away from the cage, far out of my reach. They put what looks like a long, hollow, tubelike branch into each bucket.

“To start,” Vordan says, “you will sing for me.”

“Like hell I will.”

Vordan smiles. “And that is why the young first mate is here. Theris, show Alosa what will happen each time she refuses me.”

Theris pulls out his cutlass and rakes it across Riden’s upper arm, cutting through his shirt and sending blood streaming downward.

Riden winces, but other than that he shows no sign of pain. Instead, he laughs, applying pressure to the fresh wound. “You’re all fools if you think the princess cares whether I live or die.”

Theris snorts. “You’re wrong, Riden. Alosa lives by her own rules. She has a strong tendency toward vengeance. She can’t stand to see those who have wronged her walk away unscathed. Draxen kidnapped her, he beat her, he humiliated her, he tried to take her body. She loathes him. Yet he’s alive. Do you know why?”

Riden looks at me. I quickly turn my gaze downward.

“If she didn’t care about your pain, she would have killed him. Slowly and agonizingly. The fact that he lives proves there is at least one thing she cares about more than her own justice. You.”

That’s not true. I … I owed Riden. He let me keep my dagger when he should have taken it from me. I settle my debts. He helped me stay safe, so I didn’t kill his brother. It was no more than that.

I’m certain of it.…

Wait—my dagger!

From my seated position, I wrap my arms around my ankles, as though I’m trying to comfort myself. I pat my boot.

Except for my foot, it is empty.

“Looking for this?” asks Theris, pulling the weapon from his belt, where I hadn’t noticed it before.

I try to appear as though this doesn’t trouble me at all. In reality, I’m outraged. Not only did Theris take away my only hope of escape, but I’m rather attached to that dagger.

“Here’s how this is going to work,” Vordan says, pulling my attention away from Theris. “I will tell you what to do, and you will do it. If there is any hesitation or deviance from my words, Riden will sustain another injury. Attempt to use your abilities to escape, and we’ll kill him and bring you someone else to enchant. Is that understood?”

I send Vordan a murderous glare. “When I get out of this cage, the first thing I’m going to do is kill you.”

Without even waiting for a signal from Vordan, Theris stabs Riden in his forearm.

My eyes widen as I hold in a gasp.

“I said, ‘Is that understood?’”

Though it’s against my nature—whether that be my human or siren one—I swallow my pride. “Yes.”

“Good. Niffon, Cromis—the wax.”

Vordan’s men hand him and Theris two wads of yellow-orange wax. Then they each pull out a pair for themselves. Each man inserts the substance into his ears.

So clever, Vordan. You think yourself invincible. I will find a way out of this. I always do. It’s only a matter of time. But I wish the fear penetrating through every limb in my body had the same confidence.

I’m not even attempting to hide the fury on my face when Vordan points to the buckets. His underlings each grab one of the thin branches and stick it into their bucket.

“Hold out your hands, Alosa,” Vordan says a little too loudly.

No. I won’t do it. I can’t. I won’t be subjected to this. Not again. My mind flashes back to being in my father’s dungeon.

Manacles clamp around my wrists, chaining me to the wall. My ankles, likewise, are immobilized, clinking as chains prevent me from stepping more than a foot away from the stone wall.

“Relax,” Father says before splashing a bucket of water into my face.

I choke and sputter as the water drips around me.

“Take it in, Alosa. Now, let’s see how we can make you even more powerful.…”

I’m brought back to the present by a loud grunt. Riden has his right hand clutched around his arm. Blood squeezes its way out of a new cut, past his tense fingers.

“Hold out your hands!” Vordan demands, this time shouting.

Your memories are just memories, I tell myself. Father made you strong. He helped you learn everything you can do. If you survived the pirate king’s pressure and scrutiny, you can certainly take it from any other pathetic, mindless, slimy eel of a man.

My self-encouragement passes through me in less than a second. So before Theris can damage Riden further, I do as Vordan says. I won’t look at Riden. What does my obedience mean for me? What does it mean to Riden?

Niffon and Cromis kneel side by side in front of their buckets. Niffon plugs the end of his hollow branch, lifts it out of the bucket, and hoists it high into the air in front of me.

Vordan has thought of everything, it seems.