I twisted to see Captain Lou charging at us, her jeweled bronze dagger held high. Before I could intervene, the weapon soared toward Yemma’s heart.

I shifted, throwing my body in front of the siren, catching the dagger in my left shoulder. A wet bolt of pain coursed through my skin, sounding in my ears as the blade tore through my tunic and pierced deep into my muscles and tendons. My healing gift did nothing to staunch agony. I dropped to one knee, one hand bracing myself. The shooting sting of the steel stole the air from my lungs. My stomach rolled as my vision blurred.

Yemma shouted my name as Lou screamed the same. The shrieks helped me stay conscious, focused.

Lou ran for me, but Smitter jumped into her path. He seized her by the shoulders. “Do you ever think before you act?” He tapped her head. “I wonder what goes on in here. It’s either empty or very congested.”

“What are you talking about? I’m saving you both.” She raged, shouting into my uncle’s face. “He’s hurt. There’s a siren on our ship. We have to kill her!”

Smitter shook his head. “Captain Lou, if you’d forgo the shouting a moment, perhaps you’d remember I’m a God. Rylander is a demigod. One siren in a net could never kill us, but I’m starting to fear you might.”

I grunted. With my free hand, I grabbed the handle and tore the blade free with a fresh flare of pain. Blood dripped down my torso and rained onto the deck. I closed my eyes and welcomed the thrum of my magic. I summoned fire inside me, and it grew like flames to an alcohol-soaked torch. I sucked in a breath, pushing the liquid steel of my powers through my veins toward my wound. It licked over ligaments, skin, and muscle, sewing them back together. On my exhale, I stood.

“I’ll be keeping this for now,” I barked at Lou. I slid her bronze blade into my boot.

Smitter released her, and she froze, mouth agape.

Yemma wrapped her arms around me from behind. “My darling, who is this feral creature,” she whispered in my ear.

“Feral.” Smitter barked a laugh. “A brilliant description!”

I glared at my uncle while Lou looked on, shifting with frenetic, desperate energy. To her, Yemma’s words were only snaps and snarls.

“Yemma, please speak in Captain Lou’s tongue so she understands.”

I moved around the net to stand beside Yemma in solidarity.

“If I must,” she grumbled to me. Then, in a language Lou would recognize, she continued, “My name is Yemma. I am loyal to my child, Rylander.” The words formed in stilted bursts, clumsy around her fangs, but were clear enough. She lowered her head but did not bow. “I’d prefer if you didn’t try to kill him or myself, again.”