I don't ask a lot of questions, my mind whirling with fear and tension, as Phoebe and I leave for the Somnium Realm. It hadn't taken long to debrief everyone that Ember was ok, but that we needed to move quickly. It felt a bit asinine to continue with our plan, even though Nova managed to know the entire plan. That reminder is a quick slap to the face, that we had let the woman into our home, hear our plans, know our move...

I don't ask Phoebe where she got the small sailing boat from, don't take the time to worry about such small details, not when Ember was in danger. So I waded into the Somnium lake, the cool water soaking my pants, and followed her to the boat. The mast stretched high to the vibrant sky, the whole boat was a deep brown, the wood rough to the touch. Phoebe pulled herself up the small rope ladder, and I followed after her–happy to get my feet dry as soon as possible.

"Why can't we just portal there?" It was the most prominent question in my mind, more than where she got the boat from. The boat was pretty bare, no places to sit or anything, there was a cabin below, it's entrance a small door on the floor of the deck. Besides that there just only seemed to be what was needed to sail–not that I knew the name to anything. I only really knew the basics, those of which I'd learned in highschool in a Marine Biology class.

"Portaling to the bottom of the ocean is impossible," was all she said in return. It was explanation enough. I didn't know how to help, so I watched awkwardly as she pilled all of her hair up ontop of her head, pushed up her sleeves, and started unraveling the thick rope which had tied up the sail. It dangled loosely, she still gripped the rope as she rested her hand on what I assumed was the tiller.

Phoebe was the embodiment of capability, her brown pants were wet, her feet bare as they braced themselves against the weight of the rope, her eyes were hardened with an unfaltering determination. She wanted to get Ember as soon as possible, if not moreso than any of us. Phoebe had laid in bed with Nova, held her hand, maybe even kissed her–while Ember was still trapped. That rage, its indescribable.

"Hold onto the siding." Phoebe commanded, her voice a deep vibration over the low wind. I did as she'd told me, and with a twist of her wrist then a yank with her whole arm the sail extended widely and caught the wind. The ship jerked with motion, and I was glad for the railing as I stumbled. Even with the low breeze we moved fairly quickly, the bow sliding smoothly through the water, barely even making a sound.

I'd never been on a boat before today, the feeling was a bit strange, I could feel the rocking of the water under my feet–wind whipped at my hair, and we moved faster than I would have imagined. We headed toward the mountains, the one's I'd gazed at many times, to where there was a small break between them. Phoebe stayed at the tiller, only turning it ever so slightly when she felt we were heading off coarse, and shifted the sail when need be to keep the wind hitting the sail.

"I never knew you could sail," I said, leaving the railing to go to her side. She finally felt like we were on a proper coarse, so she tied the sail to a cleat in an intricate knot and only rested a hand lightly on the tiller. Her eyes flicked to mine, they were strained, as though she didn't have time for conversation. We were moving quickly to the mountains, where we would sail down a river into the ocean, but we had time too. I understand her unease, her need to get this overwith, but at the same time sitting in silence wouldn't help our anxiety.

"There's probably a lot you don't know about me," Phoebe responded, her voice a bit cool. A pink stand of hair whipped at her cheeks, and her mouth was set in a tight line. I pretend the coolness didn't throw me off, and tried to smile at her. We needed to stay strong, to stay positive, for Ember.

"I would like to change that, Phoebe." Her features softened, if only slightly, I took it as an apology. "Who taught you to sail?"

"My dad, before he passed." A flicker of sadness, then it was gone. "If I had learned to fight none of this would have happened. But I was afraid to train, so now Ember is chained up somewhere." So much for staying positive. I shook my head, resting a hand on her blue arm. "Don't say it's not my fault, because it is. If I hadn't let myself be so helpless this wouldn't have happened."

I couldn't change that opinion, I knew that guilt. So instead, "why were you afraid to train?" The silence was long, the only sound between us being the sound of wind against a sail, and water slapping the hull. Her eyes looked distant, gazing at the nearing mountains. They had grown so large now, I wondered how fast we were moving. I could make out the small space between the periwinkle mountains, which were now a light gray. Phoebe didn't answer until we had slid into the river, going against the current to the ocean.

"I lied to you before." I tore my eyes from the scenery, from the looming mountains on either side of us, from the grassy sides of the river, from the sparkling sky–and shot my gaze to her. Phoebes face was sheepish as it gazed back at me, like what she was about to say was really hard for her.

"About what?"

A long breath, then, "do you remember when Parallax poisoned Ember? Then the three of us shared a bed that night?" I nodded, of course I remembered but what did that have to do with training? "I told you King Erran had offered my family sanctuary, and that if Parallax took over then my family would become what folklore calls sirens?" I did remember that, and the memory of that conversation had my blood boiling. Not because Phoebe had a dark side, but because King Erran had used that small tidbit as a way to force her into essential slavery.

"Yes, but what does that-"

"Erran took me in to serve him because my father killed his wife, Theodore's mother. I was to serve him to repay that pain, and he cursed me from shifting ever again. When he was dethroned Theodore told me I did not have to serve the castle for my fathers mistakes, and took the curse off me that kept me from shifting. I still don't because, if I did? I'm afraid I'd lose myself to that monster. It overtakes you, that beast, and the hunger for blood becomes too much."

I held my breath, looking at Phoebe with wide eyes. I tried to picture her, the sweet girl with pink hair and wide eyes, eating people. I couldn't. "Does Ember know?" I knew the answer before the question even left my lips.

"No, she doesn't. Defenders kill rogue sirens." Right, Ember's job was to protect. If a siren was eating people...the ship jolted as it hit the waves of the ocean, the opposing side of the mountains being a broad sea. Sailing on the sea was choppier, the boat rising and dropping with each wave. I resorted to holding onto the railing once more. The sea kissed air stung my skin, made my lips chap, and my hair fly in a disarray. Vast openness was spread before us, and how Phoebe knew where to turn beat me. But she knew, as though it were a second sense on how to find her court.

"Why do I feel like there is a 'but' coming on?" I could feel it, it taunted the space between us as she juggled for her words.

"But," a small grim smile tugged on her lips. "I will become a beast in this war, I will fight teeth and nails for Ember. I don't release the inner siren because I'm scared I wouldn't be able to come back. And worse, if when I did come back, Ember wouldn't be able to love every bit of me. She's a born and raised Defender, trained to kill rogue sirens on sight. I wouldn't blame her, it's her instincts. I just don't want to lose her. But I'm going to do what it takes, lose myself or not. Because I'd rather die, or lose Ember's heart, than have her die on my watch."

My heart ached with the proclamation, with the promise. I knew Phoebe would do it, just like I knew that no matter the consequences Ember would love Phoebe no matter what. I opened my lips to speak, to tell her my thoughts, but Phoebe pointed ahead–stopping my words.

"There." Ahead of us, forming before our eyes, was a terrifying thing to witness. Four water spouts grew from the deep blue sea, and raised it's way to the sky, which was now a darkened gray as it's clouds formed and met the spouts. The spouts formed a square, and in it's center, a large whirlpool began forming.

I turned to face Phoebe, eyes wide, heart thundering in my chest. "We're not going in there?" I screamed it as a question, over the roar of the storm that had formed. Her face broke out into a grin, her eyes wide with excitement. This had turned her mood? This imminent doom?

We drew nearer, the wind becoming so intense I wondered how our sail even stayed attached to the mast. Phoebe forced the tiller, putting her weight into it to keep it on course until we were yanked into the current. I screamed and held onto the railing for dear life, wind and the force of the sea trying to yank me from the boat. The tall water spouts shot water at my face as we passed, and my scream grew louder as the boat tipped onto its side for a brief moment.

"You're crazy!" I told Phoebe, who indeed braced the storm with wide open arms. She breathed in the scent of the sea, embellished in the sharp water that came over the sides of the boat and soaked our legs. For her, this was saying hello to an old friend. Around and around we went, turning and turning, the boat not even sailing anymore–but was instead being pulled into the deep depths of the ocean. We're going to die, this ship is too small, the winds too fierce, the water too violent–

The sea was a beast, a hungry being that was going to swallow us whole. The deep blue water thrashing violently around me was enough to make me yearn land. Lightning etched the now dark sky, thunder shaking my bones violently as my body slipped and hit the deck roughly. It was all I could do to gain my breath and grab ahold of the railing once more.

"Welcome to my world!" She screamed back, just as the boat tipped onto its side so fiercely that I dangled from the railing. I looked down, bellow my kicking feet was the ravenous sea–it threatened to swallow me whole. A scream caught in my throat as I held on tightly, my hands slipping with the slick sea water. Was Phoebe in the water? Was she gripping the tiller? I couldn't see her, not as the boat tipped more and I felt myself plummet. Then the boat fell ontop of me, and we fell into the center of the whirlpool.