Chapter 3: Captured

The deck of the trawler rocks beneath Naida and Nerissa as they lie tangled in the net, chests rising and falling in shallow, uncertain breaths. Breathing dry air still feels strange to them. It’s so thin and too sharp. But they are breathing. Barely.

The fisherman who hauled them aboard stands frozen, staring as if he’s caught two ghosts instead of two mermaids. His crew mates rush over, boots thudding on the wooden planks.

“What in blazes …?” one mutters, eyes wide.

“Mermaids,” the first fisherman whispers. “Real ones.”

A ripple of unease spreads through the crew.

“Let ’em go,” an older deckhand says immediately, backing away and making a warding gesture. “You don’t keep creatures like that. Bad luck. Bad luck for years.”

Another nods vigorously. “Aye. My grandfather told stories. Nets that trapped mermaids never caught fish again.”

The captain pushes through the crowd, wiping his hands on a rag. He’s a broad‑shouldered man with a sun‑cracked face and eyes that gleam with calculation. When he sees the twins, he stops dead.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

Naida flinches at the sound of his voice. Everything sounds so different out of the water. Nerissa clutches her hand, trembling. The captain steps closer, crouching to inspect them like rare fish. “Do you know what people would pay to see something like this?”