"There," Undilla announced with confidence, her voice resonating beneath the domed ceiling. "You see?" She turned to the gathering crowd of Sirens, their wide eyes fixed on Kerrigan as her breath rasped in and out of her heaving chest. "She is Wy'khiyen, one of the Marked."

"You filth!" Kerrigan bellowed. She jabbed a finger through the air at Undilla, whose upper body perched tall on the coils of her great hybrid body.

Come back to yourself.  Po tried to rein in the wrath that had craned its neck deep within their shared home, that trembled and shivered in the cold. Po stirred at the back of her mind, deeply aware of the pack. One Siren alone could break a grown man, but several could tear him apart limb by limb.

Kerrigan took three steps forward, her finger still raised. 

"What were you playing at – I near drowned! Do you think you can make me your game?"

"That is precisely the point, you did not drown," Undilla said.

A white-haired Siren, their head shaved above their pallid ears, the rest of their hair tied into a long and loose plait, snatched Kerrigan's wrist and dragged her forward. They stared at one another, face to face, as their grip threatened to snap her wrist with one sharp twist. A raised, pinkish scar beneath their eye crinkled as they snarled.

"Watch this hand, Marked One," they warned in deep, shaky undertones. Her entrance had clearly unsettled them all. Undilla touched the Siren's arm and they released her, bowing their head. "You could have hurt the young ones, is all."

Kerrigan looked back to the pool, where the Sirens from the tunnel lingered at either edge. The centre of the pool, from where Kerrigan had emerged, was still steaming. Mae averted their gaze, as did the others.

"Despite what this may seem to you, this is no game," Undilla insisted with deep, gravelly conviction. Their voice felt like thunder surging throughout the cave, chased by rumbling echoes. "We are at the brink of war."

War, does she mean our war?  Kerrigan stared at the hunter bound to the rock. Surely not. Sirens killed for food, but they did not bother themselves with inland politics unless it was bringing them food and salvageable cargo their way. This was a surprise to Kerrigan, it made her fantasy of the alliance seem suddenly very real.

"I apologise," Kerrigan announced cautiously, glancing at the white-haired Siren whose head remained bowed. Their scarred shoulders, rugged and milk white, were tensed and raised towards their neck, harbouring unspoken rage.

So it's the hunter... Hell, can't fucking escape them, even out here. They're parasites, I swear.

"Is he dead?" Kerrigan jabbed a finger towards the limp body of the hunter. Their coat of arms was unmistakable. A setting sun across their chest, a sword beneath the horizon with its tip pointing down to the ground, all in deep dark red. The sword signified a knight, the half sun denoted their sub-class as a vesper. Vespers were light infantry, they hunted in groups of five once the evening star had risen and the sun had near set, clad in black brigandines that were secured by leather straps beneath both arms, so that their coat of arms could blazon their chest with neat stitches. Beneath that they wore deep red gambeson. All else was ornate leather patterned with gold.

A short black cape lay crumpled between the hunter and the rock, where Kerrigan knew the same coat of arms would appear stitched in gold. Her heart palpated. This was a captain.

They want us to help against them, don't they?

Her gaze shifted to Undilla. Her black hair clung to her neck and shoulders like tendrils. The other Sirens watched in silence.

Kerrigan lowered her voice. "I think you owe me an explanation." As she spoke, Undilla lowered herself to the rocks, resting forward on her hands, her gaze an unwavering spotlight.

"He's alive, Wy'khiyen..." Undilla mused for a moment, then sighed. "In truth I'd hoped to lure a sailor from your ship, but not for food. We want a supple human mind to help us for his life spared in return. A song, only I sing, can sink into a human like sand in the ocean... and remain deep in their husk. A song, like fine grains of sand, hard to rid of, plants within them whatever ideas I command. I'd wanted a human to head inland, where we cannot go."

"Inland? What could you possibly want ashore?"

The white-haired Siren bared their teeth at this question, their head still turned to the ground. They twisted away to the back of the crowd and lowered themselves into a shallow rock pool. Several scars marked their spine. Undilla half turned towards them, but lingered. Their gaze returned to Kerrigan.

"The Hunt have captured and caged one of our clan. They took them away by carriage, led by four-legged creatures."

Oh.

Oh?

The bond between Sirens of the same clan, Po. It's thicker than blood.

"We desperately need them home."

Kerrigan felt her blood run cold.

"And him?" She nodded to the captain. Undilla glanced at the hunter.

"Lotus," Undilla said, and tilted her head to the pale, white-haired Siren, their scar-streaked back still turned. "Clan elder, above myself, has a brood of three. Circe is their eldest and was taken from Little Valley, a group of rocks and pools above the surface, half way from here to the shore. Circe strayed too far outside Little Valley, led by hunger I presume, as she happened upon a boat manned by three huntsmen. This one among them. Lotus, and their youngest, Mae, saw the huntsmen catch sight of Circe before she could submerge. The huntsmen fired arrows tied with rope, no questions asked, no word. Circe lashed back as they dragged her in. She is young but strong. She managed to pull this huntsmen into the water, we think he hit his head on the boat and became unconscious. The other two meanwhile caught Circe's head in some kind of bag and... it weakened her 'til she no longer fought back."

"It must've been doused in sedative," Kerrigan suggested, her heart heavy.

"Yes," Undilla agreed sadly. "They dragged Circe onto their boat, that's when Lotus and Mae were able to approach, after having to traverse the rocks. The huntsmen spotted them. I do not blame Lotus, as it was all that could be done to avoid the huntsmen taking their fallen back. Instead the hunters raised their sail and only watched as we brought him onto the rocks. Now they know we are here, and that we have one of their own."

"And what, you plan to offer the hunter back if they return Circe?"

Lotus finally turned back to the group and crawled over to Kerrigan. They perched on their tail and loomed over her.

"You know of the Hunt?"

"You could say I am quite acquainted with it, yes," Kerrigan answered carefully. Her skin prickled. Her rage had dissipated and in its place she felt caution. Her mark faded, her hand seemingly marked no more. Po, quiet and attentive, listened to every detail. It helped Kerrigan feel guarded and comforted. She wasn't ever really alone.

"As... a witch," Lotus said, having found the common word and tested it with her thick accent. "Then you must know the pain of their watch."

Kerrigan inhaled and her lungs filled with the scent of salt and seaweed.

"They have taken from me, as they always have from my kind. You can count our numbers on two hands. There are fewer Marked Ones. Witches are so few and far between, and very valuable to them. As soon as they realised who I was, back home, that was just it. My face appeared on every village board, gate and signpost within a so many mile radius. I am no longer welcome to any village within the area of my home, or its neighbouring villages, without fear, violence, and being handed to the Hunt, regardless of who I am beyond my abilities."

Lotus lowered herself so they were level with Kerrigan. Their features had softened.

"Then you have reason to oppose them?"

Oh boy, do we.

Kerrigan took another deep, slow breathe, and exhaled.

"I might, personally. But look, if the Hunt were to take anything or anyone from Ark Leya and its waters, they'll go to the nearest harbour and ship them off to the Capital on Par Voyeou, by decree of the King's rule in the Ark Leyan south. That's all the way back home, and I left –" For a reason, Kerrigan finished in her mind.

"Why, what do the humans have there? Where would they take Circe?"

"Well," Kerrigan started. Even Po stirred uncomfortably. "They either take captives to the University, to study," she informed carefully. Lotus shared an alarmed look with Undilla. The others exchanged glances. She waited a moment, even when all eyes fixed upon her face once more. Though reluctant, she felt she could not hold back. Like the moon and sun, the truth could never be long hidden. They had to know. "Or auctioned off to wealthy sadists as collectibles and curiosities. If not even that, then they are slaughtered, their body harvested. It is number one priority of the Hunt to crush and wipe out any non-human, and a bonus if they make a profit."

A rush of water from the pool caused Kerrigan to whip around, legs balanced and spread as if to brace an attack. Mae pulled herself across the rocks to face Kerrigan, as their mother had done. Yet she harboured no anger, just fear and deep, gripping concern for her sibling.

"Mae," Lotus called.

"Please," Mae insisted to Kerrigan, gently touching the wrist of her marked hand with the tips of their fingers. "Please, Wy'khiyen, help us find Circe. You and I, we are kin under the watch of the Hunt. We face the same demons, but they have the advantage of the land, as do you, while we only have the ocean."

We've been running for so long. This is a sign to fight. To help. This is a chance at that alliance you imagined. We have an opportunity.

Kerrigan felt herself gripped by Mae's plea. If Undilla and Lotus' anger had not already spoken to her, the desperate touch and the fearful, pleading look of this young Siren's freckled face really slammed her mind back to home.

"Alright," she agreed quietly. "Suppose I haven't much left to lose anyway."