At long last, morning came, but Parthenope was not there. The sun crept across the surface of the water, and she still did not come. Elizabeth wanted to cry, to scream out and beg the siren to return, but she had no voice to scream with. Then she chided herself for her foolishness--she had hardly been dead long, after all, and surely Parthenope was just occupied with other matters. If there was one thing they both had in abundance, it was time.

As the hours passed, Elizabeth watched the fish swim by. To her horror, some of them came to nibble at her hands and face, the only exposed parts of her body. She couldn’t feel them, nor could she see what her water-bloated corpse looked like, but it deeply disturbed her nonetheless. She wanted to cry, but she had no tears to shed. 

Suddenly, there was a great splash, and Parthenope plunged into the water. She righted herself and fixed Elizabeth with a frantic gaze before beginning to sing. Her song was hasty and off-key, but it worked nonetheless. 

Immediately, Elizabeth gasped in horror, “What happened to you?” There was a large gash across Parthenope’s cheek; a cloud of blood darkened the water around her face. Her left wing flapped slower, and Elizabeth saw it had been punctured somehow.

Parthenope tried to crack a smile. “Worry not, dear. I will heal. I need only to find my sisters, so they may sing a healing song... though they have scattered after our failure, and I know not where they have gone.”

“What? Your failure? Just tell me what happened!” Elizabeth begged. “Can’t you heal yourself?”

“If only. My song only works on others, sadly. My sisters and I must lean on each other. As for what happened… I was a fool. I sought to charm a small ship’s worth of men into the depths, thinking we would feast upon them, and I did not heed my sisters’ warnings. Indeed, the men were armed with… muskets? Is that what they are called?” Parthenope winced at the memory. “We managed to take a few to their graves, but most of them were able to attack before our song could take hold of them, and we were forced to flee.”

“T-Then go!” Elizabeth blurted. “Go, find your sisters! What are you even doing here? I’m not going anywhere!” She tried to laugh, but it came out as a strangled sound. “I-- I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you to talk to. I know it’s only been a couple days, but please-- Go. Save yourself.”

Parthenope seemed touched, though it was hard to tell through the pain that still marred her face. “Very well. I simply… thought you should know. I wish we could talk more, but I will find my sisters, and then I will return. You have my word.” Slowly, every movement a struggle, she swam back to the surface.

For three long days, Elizabeth worried. Then worry turned to dread, and dread turned to a sinking realization that sat in her chest. She reflected endlessly on their final conversation. She felt selfish; she wanted Parthenope to be safe not for the siren’s sake, but so her only companion would keep coming back.  Maybe she was in love. It seemed silly to fall in love with someone she’d hardly known, but then again, she was pretty sure she’d never been in love before. What did she know?

When Parthenope returned on the fourth morning, Elizabeth lit up with an impossible grin. “You’re alright!” she mouthed, before realizing she still didn’t have her voice back. Parthenope’s smile was weak but joyful. Her song was brief, but it had a gentler timbre to it. Elizabeth’s brow furrowed and her smile vanished. “Are you alright?” she whispered.

Parthenope coughed up a small cloud of black bile. “I was unable to find my sisters quickly enough. By the time I finally reached them, my wounds had progressed too far. They did what they could, but they could not heal me completely. I do not have much time left. I have returned to carry out one final task.” Without hesitation, she tried to pull at the chains, but she was weak and lacking the dexterity or strength needed to remove them. In desperation, she clamped onto Elizabeth’s corpse with her bird feet and began to drag her towards the surface, chains and all.

“What are you doing? Stop!” Elizabeth gasped. “You’ll only hurt yourself more!” She couldn’t feel the talons digging into her body, but she was moving, slowly but surely.

Parthenope shook her head and kept going. “I promised I would… find a way to… release you from your chains…” she said, straining against the weight. “I hope that… burying you… will do that.”

Elizabeth begged her to stop, to save herself, to not waste so much effort on a corpse, but her words fell on unmoved ears. Slowly, agonizingly, Parthenope dragged Elizabeth’s body across the seafloor and up a slope. Eventually, Elizabeth gave up begging and closed her eyes, almost afraid of what she would see when she reached the surface.

The ocean was a faded purple dappled with orange by the time they reached the shore. As soon as Elizabeth’s body cleared the waves, Parthenope collapsed beside her. They were lying on a pathetic little islet, a thin strip of sand and rocks in the middle of nowhere. Elizabeth strained to sit up even a little bit so she could look at the sea and the setting sun. She’d never expected to see a sunset again. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured faintly. Then she looked over at Parthenope and realized the siren had stopped breathing. She howled, but her scream was barely audible. “No, no, no-- please, no, wake up, wake up dearest, I--” Her voice ran out at that moment, and she devolved into silent sobs. She tried to reach out to Parthenope, but her chains restrained her, so she could only weep without tears for the one friend she’d ever had, however briefly.

As Elizabeth wept, gasping pointlessly for breath, she felt--truly felt--her manacles fall from her wrists. When she looked up, she saw Parthenope’s spirit fiddling with the chains that bound her ankles. The chains dropped to the ground, though the chains that bound her corpse still remained in place. It didn’t matter. Her spirit was free. Immediately, she scrambled forward and threw her arms around Parthenope. She tried to speak, to express her love and gratitude, but her voice was still gone.

Parthenope enfolded Elizabeth in her wings and pulled her close. She could feel the siren’s soft feathers and flowing hair. Parthenope looked Elizabeth in the eyes, caressed her cheek with one delicate feather, and leaned in to kiss her on the lips. The kiss filled Elizabeth’s chest with warmth, like the songs had. She felt her voice inside her, straining to get out. “How?” she whispered against Parthenope’s sweet lips.

“I have unfinished business. I promised I’d free you from your chains. Now I have.”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said. “You-- you’re my savior.” She gave Parthenope another passionate kiss, and the siren gladly reciprocated. Then she pulled back. “Wait. You did free me. What happens now? Is there an afterlife? Are you going to pass on?”

“I will not pretend to know what happens next. But I will not pass on if I must go without you. I refuse. Whatever power I have over my spirit, I will exert it.” 

Elizabeth looked down and clutched at her sleeves. “I… I don’t want to hold you back. I’m so selfish. I hardly even know you. What right do I have to keep you from passing on?”

“Then let us get to know each other even better,” Parthenope said. “The world is great and endless, and filled with so much possibility. I want to explore it with you. Whatever happens in the future, at least we have right now. Would you come with me?” She stood up and offered her wing to Elizabeth like it was a hand. Elizabeth hesitated for a moment, before gently taking hold of one feather and pulling herself to her feet. She looked back at her corpse, that water-logged thing that hardly looked like a person anymore. Already, a pair of crabs had come up from below the waves to nip at the hands. The wind rustled what hair still clung to the scalp; next to it, Parthenope’s newly-dead face had been covered by her hair, and her feathers were buffeted by the breeze. 

Elizabeth sighed and turned back to Parthenope, who waited expectantly for her. She couldn’t help but smile when she saw the siren’s face. “I would. I would love to come with you.” Together, they walked across the ocean, towards the land on the distant horizon.