19
Emma
As we turned off the main road, the trees on both sides of us seemed to crowd the tiny road to the point that I worried we might hit low hanging branches as we drove. When the road circled closer to the ocean, there were breaks in the trees to the rocky cliffs beyond. They were oddly illuminated by the final rays of the setting sun.
Vaguely, I remembered what little I knew of this lake and the waterfall. It was said to be one of the most beautiful places in town. But even as a kid, my parents had warned me about going on these lands. It was private property, and trespassers were dealt with.
But as we continued on, the trees parted as we approached a parking lot. Ahead of us was a massive cliff, without the smallest trace of a waterfall or lake. I frowned, scanning the area, but found nothing of the beautiful place I’d heard described so many times.
“I thought it was a waterfall,” I whispered. We parked at the edge of the sand, in an empty, beat-up parking lot that desperately needed repaving. The concrete had turned gravelly, to the point that it was past saving and the whole thing would need to be dug up and redone.
The area the parking lot sat on was raised, almost like it was at the top of a little hill with the cliff face to one side and the ocean to the other, and the path down to the beach area was a steady downward slope between them.
There was a sad note to Deva’s voice as she said, “It’s been dry for years. But this is where they do their ritual on the full moon, where the river used to fall into the sea. You can’t really see it from here, but just around that bend,” Deva pointed to where the coastline curved slightly out of sight, “the beach ends and there’s a rocky area that used to be a pool for the waterfall before it met the ocean.”
The four of us got out of the car and shuffled toward the edge of the parking lot until we could see the water below and the spot that Deva had talked about. I glanced between the area that looked like where the waterfall had come from and where it would have pooled before meeting the ocean.
As I looked down the path, I saw several sirens already lined the rocky shore, even though it wasn’t fully dark yet. Even as I watched, the sunset seemed to fade until grey light was all that was left. But even beneath that light, I could see that the women were gorgeous. Like trophy wives with fish tails. Their hair was long and wild, yet somehow looked like perfection. I could swear it glinted in the remaining light like gold and silver. Honestly, it reminded me a little of fish scales, which made sense.
“If they start singing and it gets through our ear plugs, we’ll do anything they ask,” Carol whispered, a healthy dose of both fear and awe in her voice. “Anything.”
“Hang on a second,” I said quietly, pulling out one of the plugs. “How am I hearing you guys fine, but these are supposed to somehow be effective?”
“I spelled them." Carol grinned at me, clearly proud of herself. “They will only really block out the power of the siren songs, but not talking. We might even hear a little of the songs, but not be enchanted by them. I’m not quite sure about that part of it, but it should work. Neat, huh?”
“Wow. Yeah. That seems like it would be an advanced spell,” I said, trying to acknowledge what I thought was probably some hard work, but not wanting to sound patronizing or as though I didn't appreciate it. Praising my friends felt a little like a double edged sword these days since I wasn't sure what was considered easy and what was hard for them to do. Yet another thing to add to my ever expanding list of things to chat with them about when we had time.
Carol beamed at me. “It was! It took me most of the day to get it down. I’m about ninety-nine percent sure it’ll work.”
Well, couldn't ask for better than the same percentage they used for contraception. Plus, it was better than no percent. I scarfed the last of my protection cookie and pretended it was a courage cookie as well as I said, “Let’s go.”
We walked down the winding path. It took a while, but it was the only really safe way to get down to the shore below without risking a broken ankle. Even the path, which was supposed to be safe, was a lot of sandy dirt and rocks with some planks of wood in it to make steps. Occasionally, when there was a particularly steep area, there would be a section of handrail as well, though it was wood of course, and since it was wood it was warped and split. Just looking at it gave me splinters, so I kept my hands to myself and focused on where I was putting my feet. I tried to avoid the rocky areas, hoping to make our descent as quiet as possible.
As soon as we got close, we were met at the end of the path by two men. It wasn’t until we got really close that I realized they were sirens as well. Their features were a little alien. A little too sharp to be human. They had high, angular cheekbones and noses that looked a little flat. They almost reminded me of a snake. Their skin was pearlescent. It didn't matter the shade; all of them had a sheen to them that made them seem even more fish-like. When one of the men tilted his head and looked at us, his eyes blinked, but not
