After a few more minutes, I see a small, chubby pair of legs struggling nearby. The owner of the legs can’t be older than a toddler. I scoop him up and keep him at the surface. He’s adorable really, with rounded cheeks and a snotty nose and brown eyes with lashes that would make a supermodel jealous. Close to us, a woman who I assume is his mother is crying frantically and calling out to the empty waves around her. I swim him over to her and deliver the little guy into her arms. “He swallowed a good part of the ocean, but otherwise he’ll be fine,” I tell her, knowing that she doesn’t understand.

She clutches him to her and trembles. I swim two life jackets over to her and help her strap them on to her and the baby boy. She nods, and despite the language barrier, I can tell that she’s thanking me. Which makes me feel like zoo dirt, since I helped put her and her child in this predicament. If she knew that, she would probably be trying to choke the life from me. And I would probably let her.

Rachel and I didn’t anticipate any children here. We were under the impression it was strictly a government facility. After all, an island isolated from the rest of the world isn’t a safe place to bring your family, right? But what if we underestimated the population? What if there are more children? If any of them die, or even get injured, I’m going to hate myself. I should have thought this through better. Panic begins to settle in.

I dive under and try not to think about it, try to convince myself we’re still doing the right thing. I pull Kana aside. “How are we doing? Any sign of Jagen or Musa? Are all the humans okay?”

That’s when I realize that there aren’t just Trackers around us. There are other Syrena, too. A dozen, at least. I watch in awe as they swim to the surface, find themselves a human, and keep them afloat. For every human, there is at least two watchful Syrena here to help. And there are no more pairs of stubby toddler legs.

My conscience feels rinsed with relief. I cover my mouth to stifle the overwhelming urge to bawl my eyes out.

Kana clasps my shoulder, smiling kindly. “It is not in our nature to harm humans,” she explains. “We are respectful of all life, no matter to whom the life belongs. You have proven to us that you feel the same. We will help you, Emma the Half-Breed.”

The number of Syrena swells beyond one hundred. We all surround the island, which is now about ten feet under water, taking turns holding humans up. Most of the humans can swim, but some of the men have on heavy boots and we have to fight with them to remove them. But a lost boot is a good trade for a saved life; some of the men see our logic, others don’t.

When I’m starting to feel overconfident about our position, I take a sudden kick to the back. Which is completely my fault; I wasn’t watching where I was going and got within swimming distance of a human pair of legs. It’s much easier to keep your bearings when you can sense others around you. Humans don’t have that luxury.

Accident or not, it feels like I’ve been stabbed all over again. I cry out, and swim to the surface. Kana joins me. “You’re hurt?” she says.

Gritting my teeth, I nod. “It’s where Jagen speared me in the back.” I’m teetering on the verge of tears and I feel like such a wuss. Who am I to be crying when all these people just got displaced from their homes? No one. That’s who.

I wave Kana away. “Go. Help the humans. I’ll be fine.” And I will be. The pain subsides and I get back to work—more carefully this time. My movements are more delicate and precise now. I’m not unaware that the tape on my bandage has come loose, that blood has started seeping out of my freshly torn wound. I’m hoping the sharks I sent away care more about my instructions than they do about the stimulating scent lingering around me.

It sucks to be a klutz on land and a klutz in the water.

For all our hard work, there is still no sign of Jagen or Musa. Galen glides to my side. “We think they’re locked inside one of the buildings. Trackers can sense them, but we can’t see them. I’m going in to get them.”

“I’m coming, too.”

“No, you’re not. Jagen already tried to kill you once. I won’t be giving him a second opportunity. Besides, we need you out here to control the marine life.” Galen eyes the thin cloud of blood hovering around me like some creepy aura. Really, the blood itself is hardly visible. But I’m hyperaware of it because the water carries a faint metallic taste. I wonder how much stronger it is to Galen’s full Syrena senses. I can tell he’s reliving the moment I got stabbed.

He needs to snap out of it.

“I’ve already sent most of the fish away, what with the help of all the Syrena volunteers. The fish aren’t much of a factor to our mission anymore.” But I can tell by his clenched jaw and the hard look in his eyes that he’s not going to budge. I am staying behind. “Take others with you, then,” I say. “Jagen isn’t your best friend, either.”

“No, but I am,” Toraf says, swimming up to us. “What are we doing?” Mom and Grom follow close behind him. I guess this is a family affair after all.

Galen shifts his glare from me to Toraf. “We’re going inside the building to find Jagen and Musa. Do you sense them?”

Toraf nods. “I know exactly where they are. Follow me.”

Galen presses a quick kiss to my forehead then swims after Toraf. Mom slips behind me. “Your bandage is gone. Looks like your wound might have reopened a bit.”

I try to shrug casually, but wince at the shooting pain. Mom releases a sigh full of have-it-your-way. I ignore it and the tenderness in my back and the tension building in my shoulders as I watch Galen and Toraf and three other Trackers approach the submerged island.