The crowd applauded. A few people whistled.

“The warriors standing beside me are stronger, fiercer, and more determined than any of those we’ve sent in the past. For five years, not a day has gone by in which they have not worked to better themselves—to train their minds and bodies for the task before them. Today marks the downfall of our curse. We’ll live in peace and prosperity once again, all because of the warriors before you: the women of Eriana Kwai.”

As he spoke, I looked beside me at the girls who would become my shipmates over the coming weeks—the family I’d grown to know over the last half-decade.

Annith stood to my right. Beside her was a slender girl we called Blacktail, because she was shy and skittish like a deer. I thought she also had enormous ears like a deer, but I never said so. After her stood Sage, Linoya, and Zarra, who I imagined would have been the rebellious kids if we’d gone to high school. Next was Eyrin, stone-faced as always, then Chadri and Nora. Dani, Shaena, Akirra, and Texas closed off the line to my right.

To my left stood the group who liked to play basketball on weekends: Holly, Nati, Kade, Shaani, Blondie, and Fern. We called the one girl Blondie because she was the only one of us with blonde hair—like Nora, Holly, and Shaena, her heritage traced back to the mainland.

At the very end stood Mannoh, our captain. Anyo had chosen her because her father was a former Massacre captain—the same Massacre my father had been on, where they’d killed a record five hundred and four mermaids.

“Before you set sail on your honourable quest,” said the training master, “I’d like to present each of you with a parting gift.”

He reached into a barrel once used for fish, and revealed a leather tool belt. Two large pouches were stuffed full, their zippers left open so he could flaunt the contents. Four daggers, a multi-tool pocketknife, and a water flask lined the right pouch. A compass hung off the side. The left pouch acted as a quiver, overflowing with iron bolts.

I almost sighed with relief at the sight of the belt. Receiving a parting gift from the island was rare, usually reserved for a group of warriors who might actually stand a chance.

Some other girls whispered excitedly. I wondered how much all twenty belts cost. The entire island must have pooled resources to purchase and make these. Even when parting gifts were awarded—and it had never happened in my lifetime—it was usually something simpler than a full belt of tools and weapons. My father had received a compass alone, which he still kept over top of the fireplace.

Other than my onyx ring, Nilus had never received a parting gift.

Annith caught my eye, smiling through the tears streaking her face.

“And one more thing!” shouted the training master, straining to be heard over the buzzing crowd.

He reached into the barrel and pulled out a bottle of something red. “May you all depart in style!”

He removed the lid with a pop, and the crowd laughed and applauded. It was war paint.

Anyo stopped at each of us in turn, handed us a tool belt, and swiped a thumb of red paint across our cheeks.

By the time he painted the face of the last girl in the line, the crowd grew louder than ever.

I drew a breath, trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach. Maybe the high spirits were a good omen. I let myself fantasize about returning home with a full ship, bringing news of a decimated mermaid population.

“And now, a dance,” shouted the training master. “Let the gods watch over your pure souls.”

The drums started. The beat grew louder and quicker with every pulse. Time for us to file onto the ship.

Adette jumped in front of the drums as usual, but she wasn’t wearing her mermaid costume. She was dressed as a warrior, just like us, with the same uniform and face paint. The difference was in her hair, tied with feathers that fluttered around her shoulders as she danced, and in the feathers that hung from her arms when she raised them. A saw-whet owl, taking off for a hunt.

My chest tightened as I watched her dance, because I knew she had also been put in training. She’d started the year prior, destined to go on the Massacre in just four years’ time. If we could slay enough demons, maybe Adette wouldn’t have to go.

A young girl I didn’t recognise jumped out then, wearing Adette’s old mermaid costume. She appeared weak and small next to Adette and all her feathers, and I supposed that was the idea.

I stepped onto the gangplank, averting my eyes from the dance so I could watch my step.

The sensation of the rocking boat was oddly soothing, like being in a massive cradle. Some of the other girls’ faces led me to believe they felt otherwise. The training program had warned us about seasickness, and luckily we had plenty of herbs on board to help those who suffered from it.

A chorus of voices erupted in time to the drums, the beat growing louder still, but they didn’t sound like a funeral march this time. They sounded strong, and fierce, and above all, hopeful.

I waved to the crowd, fixing my gaze on my family standing to the side, while men untied us from the dock. We drifted away from the land. My parents became smaller, the music dimmer. My chest felt unbearably tight, like someone was squeezing my heart. I turned away. I watched the front of the ship instead, her pointed nose aimed boldly at the horizon.

Once the music and the people of Eriana Kwai faded away, we were left in hollow silence. Surrounded by emptiness, I wondered if this was how all soldiers felt after leaving their people behind.

Shaena positioned herself at the helm—she’d proven to have the best understanding of navigation, so that duty was mainly hers—and the rest of us took turns filing down to the hull to claim our crossbows.

I ran my hand along the grip, raising the weapon to my line of sight. It was sleeker and fit more comfortably on the shoulder than the old training crossbows. The sinew was stiff, sure to fire with more punch than any of us were used to. I slung it across my chest and left it there as we glided smoothly towards the horizon, not a speck of land in sight.

Leaning against the railing, I kept my gaze determinedly forwards, unable to watch the land creep away behind us.

The sea exhilarated me. I became hypnotised by the choppy waves. I watched how the Bloodhound crushed them into a salty spray, remaining steady all the while, unfazed by their size. I watched foam and logs and seagulls float by, and at times thought I could see fish swimming below the surface. The cold wind pushed against me, but I welcomed the goose bumps and pulled back my sleeve to watch them rise up my arm, relishing the sticky mist that clung to my skin.

The salt against my nose and tongue brought tears to my eyes, but in an odd, nostalgic way. It made me feel like a child again—and I turned my head to stop it.

“Meela,” said Annith, popping up beside me.

I started, half expecting her to point out a mermaid rippling towards us already. But she had a faint smile on her face.

“Look!”

She held up her hand and showed me the backs of her fingers. I stared stupidly for a minute before realising a small silver band encircled her right ring finger.

I gasped. “Is that from Rik?”

“It’s a promise ring,” she said breathlessly. “He surprised me with it last night.”

I’d never pinned myself as the type of girl who squeals when her best friend tells her about a serious relationship step, but I surprised myself when a high-pitched shriek came from my lips and suddenly we were jumping up and down and hugging each other.

“Let me see!” I grabbed her hand and examined it. It was simple, but very pretty. I wondered how he managed to afford such a luxury.

“He must really love you,” I said.

When I looked up, Annith’s hazel eyes were glossy and she had a mushy expression on her face.

“I think we’ll get married some day,” she said, still breathless. “It feels right. Like I’ve loved him my whole life.”

“Annith, I’m so happy for you.”

We hugged again. At the same time, I felt a pang of dread in my stomach, because Annith was leaving for an entire month with no guarantee of her survival.

Dani’s voice cut through the wind. “You girls want to make yourselves useful?”

We looked up at her. She was poised at the helm next to Shaena, who sang herself a theme song as she steered the ship.

“A pirate’s quest, to slay some pests! We’ll sail into the sun!”

“What do you want us to do, exactly?” I said shortly.

“Swab the deck or something,” said Dani. “This isn’t a holiday.”

“We just left! The deck is brand new!”

“Yo, ho, we’ll find their nest, and run a bolt through each rat’s chest!”

Dani narrowed her eyes. “I’m sure you can find something useful to do, besides stand there like a couple of invalids.”

“Drop it, Dani,” said Mannoh, stepping between us. “No point in getting all riled up yet. We should explore the ship a bit. Get to know our new home.”

Over Mannoh’s shoulder, Dani’s face puckered, as though Mannoh had just shoved a sack of maggots in her face.

“Yes, Captain,” she said with an icy sneer.

“And sail into the sun!” Shaena sang louder than ever, and she let her ponytail down so her chestnut hair could blow loose in the wind.

I sighed. “I bet Dani’s only standing there because she’s afraid Shaena will steer us into a rock.”

Annith giggled. Mannoh pursed her lips and turned away.

“We’ll head due west, on our pirate’s quest! And sail into the sun!”

Annith and I crossed the main deck, until the wind drowned out Shaena’s singing. We watched the passing sea from the bow of the ship.

“Beautiful out here, isn’t it?” I said, admiring the way the sun glimmered on the water.

Though Annith’s eyes revealed a trace of fear as she scanned the waves, she appeared captivated all the same.

“I’m trying not to think about how far down the water goes underneath us.”

I shook my head, not letting the thought enter my mind. “Remember there’s even more distance between you and the sky.”

“And me and the nearest island, pretty soon.”

“Don’t think about it. You’re part of the sea now.”

I wasn’t sure where my boldness came from, but somehow I felt like I belonged on the water. I thought maybe it was best not to say that aloud.

I ran my hands along the supple leather of the new belt around my waist.

“Should we check what’s inside?” I said, seeing Annith do the same.

We sat on the deck, propped our crossbows against our laps, and pulled out our tools to examine each one. The daggers were beautifully crafted with black handles carved into comfortable grips, the blades shiny enough to reflect my gaze. When turned sideways, the edge all but vanished. One was long, thin, and steel, for cutting up fish. Another was double-edged, its point so sharp I could tell one prick would bring the blood oozing from my finger—perfect for stabbing, but the steel wouldn’t kill a mermaid. Another was serrated: for sawing rather than killing. The last was black, heavy, and made of iron. There was no question of its purpose.

I held the compass flat in my palm and watched the arrowhead find its way north. It was elegant and made me feel like a real sailor, but I preferred to get my directions from the rising and setting sun. All we had to do was go west along the edge of the Gulf of Alaska.

I watched the red and white compass needle bob with us as we crested the waves, finding satisfaction in how it always pointed northwards again.

In addition to the pocketknife, daggers, water flask, and compass, I found a vial the size of my index finger, and—of all things—an American brand of lip balm. Annith and I pulled that out at the same time and laughed.

“Watermelon,” she said in English, reading the label.

I looked at mine. “Cherry!”

We put them on, savouring the sweet flavours on our lips. I licked it off in a matter of seconds and had to stop myself from licking it directly out of the tube.

“What’s in the bottle?” said Annith, holding her vial up to the sunlight. The jet-black contents had the consistency of a moist powder.

“I think it’s kohl, for our eyes. To protect them from the sun.”

Annith smeared a line across the back of her hand. “Oh my gosh, you’re right! Here, close your eyes.”

She dipped her little finger, and I held still while she drew a layer around my eyelids. When she pulled back and I opened my eyes, she gasped.

I jumped and put my hands to my face, wondering what went wrong.

“Meela, you look hot!” she said, beaming at me.

I dropped my hands. “Oh. I thought something bad happened.”

She laughed and rolled her eyes. “You always assume it’s bad if someone stares for too long.”

I pulled out one of my daggers and tried to catch my reflection in the steel.

“Do mine!” said Annith, pushing my arm down and forcing the vial into my hands.

I dipped a finger into the damp powder. Annith closed her eyes and I smudged some across her eyelid. My hand wasn’t very steady and I drew it on too thick.

“Oops,” I said, pausing to fight back a lock of her windblown hair and staining it black in the process. “I’m not very good at this.”

“I’m sure you’re doing fine,” said Annith, keeping her eyes closed. “It’s supposed to be thick.”

I sighed, dipping my finger back into the vial. “If you say so.”

When I was done and she opened her eyes, I grinned. It made me think of the pretty girls I’d seen on TV with shadowy eye makeup. “You look like a movie star. Minus the war paint, of course.”

“It looks good, right?” she said, and fixed her hair so it came down in front of her shoulders. “Now too bad there aren’t any boys to impress around here.”

I laughed. “We’ll make sure to wear it when we get home.”

Annith smiled, and I realised that somewhere inside me, I must have felt sure we’d make it home.

We fell quiet then. We followed the track of the sun as it made its way across the sky, taking us west towards the Aleutian Arc. Based on stories from Massacre survivors, the demons’ nest was somewhere near the volcanic Aleutian islands that curved away from the Gulf of Alaska like a tail. Once there, we’d massacre every demon we could find.

We didn’t know exactly where it was, only that it was like a wasps’ nest—concealed, alive, and sure to destroy those unfortunate enough to find themselves on top of one.