The Black Reef lived up to its name. It was a jagged scar of volcanic rock jutting out of the dark water a mile from Seraphim City, shrouded in a perpetual, unnatural mist.
Mirabelle sat at the prow of the small, stolen skiff, a lantern held high. The light barely penetrated the fog. The water here was silent—no splashing fish, no crashing waves. Just a heavy, oily stillness.
"Row faster," Mirabelle whispered, peering into the gloom.
"I am not rowing," Revas replied from the stern. He was reclining comfortably, one hand trailing in the water. "I am motivating the current."
Violet energy pulsed from his fingertips into the sea, pushing the boat forward with a steady, silent glide. He looked entirely too relaxed for a man heading into a monster's lair. He was looking at the moon, humming a discordant tune.
"Do you have to hum?" Mirabelle hissed. "We are hunting a Siren."
