The Eighth Sea

Chapter 14

Wren

The Eighth Sea seemed surprisingly normal at first glance. Wren could immediately tell when they entered it by the colour of the water: the blue waves were tinged with a hint of violet, and the moment they passed the threshold, the ocean seemed to spread out in all directions in that same colour. It was as if the sea they had left behind had merely vanished, replaced by the waters of the Eighth Sea in all directions.

It was all rather lacklustre in Wren's opinion. If he were Scylla, he would have wanted something more grandiose: maybe a whirlpool that sucked ships down into the depths of the Eighth Sea, or massive jellyfish with dangerously charged stingers attacking all who dared enter the domain. However, this was just downright disappointingly safe.

The rest of the crew seemed elated that the sea wasn't too dangerous; in fact, spirits were high, all with the exception of Pierre. He stood at the back of the ship, staring out at the waves, muttering bad poetry about broken love and times of parting. Wren was reminded of his time as a young boy—when he would watch horrible romantic comedy plays with his mother.

He clambered up to the crow's nest to get away from Pierre's moping, and that was when he first saw it. A low-hanging grey cloud was steadily approaching, carried by the wind, and moving impossibly fast.

"Storm incoming!" he called out to the rest of his crew. "Should be here in a few minutes! Get ready!"

Hector immediately sprang into action, ordering the crew around and ensuring everyone was in their place. Even Pierre was wrenched away from his spot and an oar tossed into his hands as he continued to sob over Charlotte. Honestly, they had only been apart for all of five minutes.

The crew of the Jolly Rancher rushed to get away from the storm, but they couldn't outrun it despite their best efforts. It was upon them before they knew it, and heavy sheets of rain beat down on the deck while crew members hurried to take the sails down to prevent any damage from the terrifyingly strong winds. Thunder roared in the sky while lightning flashed brightly, and Wren climbed down from the crow's nest to get back to the safety of the deck.

It was then he heard something over the crashing storm around him. At first, he thought it was his imagination, but then it sounded out again, clear as day. A soft voice called out to him from somewhere across the waves, singing a song of warm sunlight and safe shores and gentle waters. Wren rushed to the rails, peering out through the rain to try to get a glimpse of the singer.

By that point, other members of the crew had heard it too. Some even abandoned their posts to join Wren by the rails, squinting out through the storm to try to find the singer.

More voices joined the first, and soon it was as if a choir on the waves was calling out to them, beckoning the Jolly Rancher towards them.

"I need to go to them," Gerald announced, practically leaning off the rails. "They're calling to me!"

"No, they're calling ME!" Patricia snapped, sounding like she was more than a bit drunk (per usual). "You stay here on the ship while I go to them!"

"No, you're all wrong," Francis joined in. "I swear they said my name."

"Shut up, you idiots," Wren interrupted. "They're not calling to any of us. In fact, their song is getting a bit repetitive, wouldn't you say?" He had been starting to notice just how unoriginal their lyrics were as they once again dropped a line about the sun.

"How dare you say that!" Patricia screeched angrily, her face turning a horrid shade of red. "Those singers are mine! She's so... beautiful!"

"Their voices are like the heavens," Levi whispered, stumbling over to the rails. "Can any of you see them? What do they look like?"