Page 73 of Song of Lorelei
He was still, too still. Not even a hint of recognition that he’d heard her.
“It’s not your time.”
Tears soaked her cheeks, a wail climbing in her chest, but she swallowed it, hugging him close. She was losing him, but he wasn’t lost yet. And maybe…
Song leapt to her lips, an old sailor’s tune learned from the mother who raised her, made soft, gentle, and melodic like a lullaby. She poured her soul into it, the love she had for Killian, every cherished moment of joy, beckoning him back from the brink of death. If there was one impossible task her voice could surmount, let it be this.
But if she failed, and God please let it not come to that, but if it did, let her beloved know peace as she sang. Let the sound of her voice soothe his passage into eternal sleep.
I love a jolly sailor that ploughs the raging sea,
And firmly pray, arrive the day, he returns to me.
My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold,
There is nothing can console me but my jolly sailor bold.
His hair it hangs in ringlets, his eyes as black as sloe,
May happiness attend him wherever he may go.
For when he goes, I fear, he’ll ne’er return again.
Sirens wailed in the distance, emergency vehicles quickly growing louder.
When the ambulances arrived, the EMTs filing out were startled by all the merfolk on the beach, but true to their professions, shock was suppressed, and they got to work, bringing stretchers and first aid equipment down to the shoreline.
She continued singing, waiting for her love’s return, tenderly stroking his face.
There is nothing can console me, but my jolly sailor bold.
With a deep, rasping breath, his eyes fluttered open, the color of a summer’s storm. “Lorelei.”
Chapter Forty-Two
LORELEI
Summer came to Haven Cove, and with it, the tides of change.
Without a boat, Dawn Chaser’s crew picked up odd jobs around town, whatever they could get to make ends meet. Killian remained at home, recovering from his injuries.
Phil and most of the board were ousted, replaced with interim leadership. The merfolk stayed in the deep, the pregnant members of their community having just given birth, but they swam up to Lila’s HCMRC research vessel anytime it entered their territory to show off their newborns. The marine biologist said that the babies were pretty darn cute, although a little feral and bite happy.
As soon as the seas were calm enough, Lila and trusted members of her team would treat the little ones with the latest batch of virophage. She was also working on getting merfolk territory declared a marine sanctuary, as well as running regular educational trainings for the new leadership, so the bullshit that happened during Nireed’s time in captivity didn’t happen again.
And while Killian healed at home, Lorelei returned to the museum she built. She’d been surprised to get her old job back, and even more surprised to learn that Carrie had spoken to HCMRC’s new management on her behalf, one of many voices to do so, and resigned. When Lorelei asked family about it, she was met with more surprise. No one had put her up to it.
A lot had changed at the museum in Lorelei’s absence, but it was for the better.
Most notably, more staff had been hired, so her workload was much more manageable. And work stayed at work, especially with a new Assistant Museum Director there to help her run things.
Wandering through the exhibits, Lorelei made small talk with a few of the patrons.
And that’s when she saw her.
She almost dropped her tea.
A woman in her early fifties stood in front of a new display detailing merfolk culture and their reuniting pods, something temporary until they could plan out and construct a new wing. The woman had dark auburn hair streaked with white at the temples. Freckles bridged her nose, dotting white skin, and her eyes were a vibrant green. Not quite the color of sea glass, but close. Subtle age-lines creased her mouth—now pursed in concentration—and flanked the corners of her eyes.