As soon as she hit the water, Qellsala sagged with relief as it soothed the dryness of her skin and scales alike. It was not the same with the brace on, but after a night penned in that awful, stuffy room with barely enough water to go around, Qell could endure the way the brace bit at her skin and prevented the water from seeping over it properly.

But her moment of peace did not last and was shattered by a sharp static sound in both ears that made her hiss with discomfort. The static faded and a strange voice began to echo in her head. Go this way, go this way, go this way…Over and over, the voice reverberated painfully in Qellsala’s skull and her fin began working, spurring her in the direction it was telling her to go. When she indulged it, the voice grew quieter, but was ever present and rose to a louder pitch again if she veered off course.

Qell’s hand shook and her fin pumped hard as the noise spurred her forward. But she refused to allow a human voice in her head to dictate where she went in the water. She needed to return to her children and would not allow this to hinder her. If she focused really hard, she found she could almost tune the voice out. Not fully, but enough that her body did not hasten to obey without her consent.

Confident that she had regained control of herself, Qellsala veered away from where the voice was telling her to go and shot off in a new direction, one that would lead her first to food and then back to her den. There was going to be a gruelling journey ahead of them and she refused to force her starving children forward without something to fill their bellies. They would need their strength.

As Qellsala swam and made her way further from the ship and the direction it had tried to steer her, the voice in her head got easier and easier to ignore, until she could no longer hear it at all. She paused and listened, but there was only silence. Had she swum out of range? She scoffed. That seemed almost too easy and she would need to keep her guard up, but she was not going to waste any time or thought over the humans until she needed to again. First, it was time to hunt.

While she would always be more comfortable in the cooler, darker waters she was born for, the shallows did offer strong hunting and it was not long before she came across a school of large fish. She fell on the back of the school and kept up as their silvery bodies darted into a panic. Her quarry was too slow to keep up with the rest, though, and she dug her talons deep into its gills while her powerful fangs sank through its scales and her tail worked hard to drag it to a halt. The fish flailed weakly a few times before falling still. It was larger than Qell would normally hunt, for it would be tedious to haul back to her den, but she wanted to set her children up as best she could before they left the den. They needed full bellies and this would offer them that.

Along the way, she was able to catch two tiny fish that she swallowed whole to help fill the hollow ache in her own gut. Satiated for now, Qellsala pressed forward until her den loomed near and the scents of her children filled her gills.

She ducked through the crevice that served as the entrance to her den. Inside, she found Colkal curled up on the sandy bottom with his tail covering his vulnerable middle. His scales were a richer red than Qell’s own, like glimmering rubies, and his eyes were like glittering lumps of coal. Instantly, Qellsala’s heart soared at the sight of him. Of both of them.

Zazhiri hovered protectively over her younger brother, her lips curled into a snarl. She had Qell’s eyes, and the bright green irises were darkened with fury. Her deep purple scales flashed in the low light and her spinal fin was flared. She hissed, but the threat faltered in her throat and her eyes widened. “Mama?”

There were no words to express her relief that they were alright, or her pride in Zazhiri. She had been prepared to fight. Qell swam closer and set her catch down in the sand. “Eat, both of you. Fill your bellies,” she urged. “Quickly now.”

Colkal did not need to be told twice, but Zazhiri was still peering at Qell with suspicion and concern. “Mama, what-”

“No questions,” Qellsala refused, though she kept her tone gentle. “Feed, Zazhiri. Our den is no longer safe and we must flee it.”

That was all she needed to say. Zazhiri followed her brother’s lead and began to scarf as much as she could from the fish. While they ate, Qell turned and tasted the water. Her heart was hammering. If they had a means of tracking her, they would know that she was lingering here. But there was no scent or sound of boats on the water and her den was deep. Not deep enough, but they would have a hard time getting to them.

Barely a heartbeat had passed before she had Colkal’s slender arms around her waist. “I was worried, mama. I thought you were not coming back.”

Qell placed a hand on his back and stroked her fingers through his soft brown hair lovingly. “Colkal, my love, I will never stop fighting to get back to you both, no matter what. You know that. But there is no time for reunions now. Eat up, we have a long swim ahead of us.”

By the time she coaxed her youngest back to his meal, Zazhiri had finished and was staring at her expectantly. Qell sighed and gestured, and swam away from Colkal.

“Humans did this,” Zazhiri murmured.

It was not a question, but Qellsala nodded anyway. “Yes.”

When she examined her daughter’s face, she saw fear cloud Zazhiri’s eyes. “You are not staying with us?” This time, it was a question.

“It is not safe,” Qell agreed.

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Zazhiri set her jaw and straightened her spine. “I can do it,” she whispered. “Take care of him.”

Qellsala nodded. That had never been something she had questioned. “Zazhiri, I must ask something cruel of you.”

In response, Zazhiri lifted her chin, but her fingers were curled into fists and there was a rattling quiver to her fin. She was still so young that Qell hated to be dumping such a heavy burden on her.

Qell reached out and pulled her daughter close until their foreheads were pressed together. “I am going to take you and Colkal to the depths. You must stay there, Zazhiri, do you understand? Do not venture into shallower waters for any reason.”

Grief poured into Zazhiri’s eyes, which darkened and she looked away. “You are asking us to starve…asking me to let Colkal starve.”

“No,” Qell refused. She embraced Zazhiri and held her tightly. “I am asking you to stay safe. There are some fates worse than death and nothing is worth the risk of becoming entangled with humans. I have seen what they do to our people and I would wish a peaceful oblivion on you both before I would have either of you see a day with humanity. I am going to take you deep and then I am going to find some help to get this thing off so I can come back to you.”

Zazhiri wrapped her arms around Qell’s waist and Qell felt the strength sap from her daughter. “Please don’t leave us, mama,” she whimpered.

Qellsala clenched her jaw and squeezed her daughter close. “Not for long, my love,” she whispered. “Hopefully not for long. Oh, Zazzi, this is too heavy a burden to put on you and I would never ask it if there was another choice. It is okay to be scared, but I need you to stay strong, okay? Promise me, no matter what, you and Colkal will stay as deep as possible.”

A shiver ran through Zazhiri’s body as she squeezed Qellsala tightly. “I promise,” she finally murmured, though she didn’t sound any less uncertain. It broke Qell’s heart and her hatred for humans began to boil in her blood. Their war had already forced her family to suffer and starve, now it was forcing them to grow up faster than they should because she couldn’t stay with them as closely as she needed and desired.

She could have stayed like that forever, embracing her daughter and overseeing her young son finally get to fill his belly after moons of scraps and hunger. As it was, she barely got a few heartbeats before a piercing static ricocheted through her skull and made her wince. The static faded away after a moment and was replaced with a voice that made Qellsala’s blood run cold.

“Well, well, I wonder what’s caught our little runaway’s attention so much that she’d stop for a while?” the general’s voice echoed in Qell’s ears, the cold malice in her tone making Qell shudder. “You’re not stupid, so I know this little expedition wasn’t just to curl back up in whatever hidy hole you call a den. Something drove you there…offspring, perhaps?”

Qellsala stiffened, her terror leaking into her veins. They needed to move. She would not let them come for her children, but if they knew where she was and where she was going, then she would be unable to linger with them and help them set up a den or she would be leading the humans right to their new location.

“Ah, yup. There it is. The fear, the dismay, the confusion, oh, a little anger, that’s not surprising. Hard to hide anything when your emotions can be read like a book, little siren. I had a feeling you were a mother when you were first brought on the ship. Putting you back in the water today was a test. You disobeyed me.” The statement was filled with so much icy anger that for the first time, Qellsala felt like cowering away from the human woman.

“I gave you a simple task,” she continued. “All you had to do was swim where you were told, map out part of the ocean floor, that’s all. You need to learn to follow orders and maybe some consequences will teach you.”

For a moment, more static crackled Qellsala’s head, and then a command came. The general’s voice was gone, replaced with the robotic, pulsing voice that had forced Qell to swim before she had been able to fight it off. Kill.

Qellsala set her jaw and tried to curl her talons into her own tail. She knew the brace was designed to prevent her from injuring herself, too, and hoped that if her body locked it would be easier to resist the commands. But her claws sank easily under her scales and punctured her flesh.

Kill. The voice was louder this time, more insistent. Kill.

Her body shook with the effort to resist the commands that felt like they were coming from her own mind. She knew it was a trick, but her body wanted to obey what her brain was telling it, and the voice was louder, stronger this time. She wondered if the general had purposefully weakened it earlier to encourage her to resist the commands. Now, she was genuinely struggling.

“Zazzi…baby, you need to go.” Qell forced the words out past gritted teeth. “Take Colkal and dive deep, now. I…I will find you as soon as I can.” Kill.

“Mama? Are you okay? Why are you not coming with us?”

Kill. Qell shook her head and clawed at her ears as if it would help banish the awful commands. “Go…please,” she whispered.

“Mama, what’s wrong? Does something hurt?”

But Qell could barely hear her daughter any longer over the incessant voice echoing in her mind. Kill. Kill. KILL!

“Zazzi, get away,” Qell begged. She shoved her daughter away from her, but the motions broke her focus just enough that her arm continued moving without her consent, and her curled talons slashed across Zazhiri’s neck, opening deep gouges across the young girl’s gills.

Zazhiri cried out and sank in the water with a hand pressed desperately to the torn flaps. She began to wheeze and choke, and the smell of blood filled the water as it poured from her daughter’s injury. Qell wanted to help, felt terror fog her mind further. Zazhiri needed help, she needed it now, without her gills, she would suffocate, drown in the very waters she was meant to thrive in. It was always an unspoken rule among the mierne that no matter how vicious fighting got, no matter the intent to drive away or kill, one never went for the gills, because it was the one injury impossible to survive without remaining at the surface.

“Zazzi!” Colkal’s voice was full of fear as he darted to his sister’s side and hovered with anxious uncertainty. “Mama, Zazzi’s hurt. Why? What did she do wrong? Mama, help!”

The sound of her son pleading with her, believing she had lashed out at Zazhiri intentionally, was like having a hand driven into her chest to claw at her heart. She couldn’t protect them, she was a danger to them. She dug her fingers into her head until blood and pain quieted the voice for just a moment. One precious moment of silence and clarity before it came back full force, slamming into her again. She wanted to flee, get away from her children long enough to fight it off, though she knew Zazhiri wouldn’t last that long, wouldn’t make it if she didn’t get a handle on the situation right now.

When the command came again, the voice sounded less robotic, more like the general’s, but it was also the loudest, most overwhelming the commands had ever been. Kill. Now. The command was actually painful, so overwhelming in her brain that Qell blacked out.