Inside of Every Siren is a Song
“Places, everycreature! Places! Let’s go!”
Toccata adjusted her grip on the spotlight, the handles fitting easily between her cloven hooves, her tail curling in the lukewarm waters of the sea. Above and around her, seaponies and hippocampi flitted about in the rafters over the stage, setting lights filled with bioluminescent algae, mirrors, and colored lenses into their proper positions. The little currents left in their wakes pushed and pulled against Toccata’s towering dorsal fin and tickled the scales around her beak-like snout. Her forked tongue poked out between the sharp white daggers lining her mouth, and her crimson brow furrowed in concentration as she pointed the light at the stage below her.
The lights in the theatre dimmed as the hippocampi adjusted them with their prehensile tails. A hundred feet away, a seapony swam off of the stage, clipboard in his hooves, and hovered above the gallery where he wouldn’t be in the way of the lighting. After marking a few last items on his clipboard with a stick of blackened coral, the seapony swished his tail and raised his voice. “Alright, let’s start from the beginning, and let’s make it a good one! Opening night’s tomorrow! This is going to be the biggest show in Conch Hall in fifty years, and it has to be perfect!”
The director looked down into the orchestral pit and nodded to the conductor, a mermare with a long, flowing red mane that floated weightlessly in the still waters around her. Nodding back, the seapony took her baton in her hoof, looked over her musicians, and raised it sharply into the water. She held it there for a second, aloft in the water, as the rest of her seapony ensemble readied their instruments, and when all was still and ready, she silently mouthed the countdown and began to move her hooves in slow, smooth movements.
Toccata felt the music before anycreature else in the theatre. It was a low note, a chord of strings, gradually growing louder and louder with each passing heartbeat. Her scales tingled with the vibrations carried through the water, and she had to stop herself from humming along with the chord. Instead, she forced her draconian eyes to follow the lone figure paddling out to center stage, shrouded in the darkness of the dimly-lit theatre. A last second adjustment of the dark spotlight put the silhouette in the marker, and she shivered and counted down as the strings peaked their crescendo. When she finally hit ‘zero’ in her mind, she switched on the spotlight, illuminating the seapony floating over the stage.
The mermare was a naturally beautiful creature, and her costume only accentuated her fine and shapely features. Her long, curled tail had been bedecked with a gown of glittery scales, and an exaggerated fin had been added to her back, nestled within her natural dorsal ridge. Jewelry of the finest silver hung from her neck and ringed her legs, and a silver tiara held her braided mane in check, pushed behind her ears. Her costume was that of a siren, the beautiful songstresses of the deep known throughout the oceans for their beautiful, haunting, and dangerous voices. Cantata was the best vocalist in the guild, and so of course she had been cast to play Queen Vivace, the legendary siren queen of yore. There was not a creature under the seas that could match her beautiful voice.
Toccata’s lips parted ever so slightly, revealing her sharp fangs, and the jewel in her breast glistened in the faint light. No creature that wasn’t a siren, that is.
But she pushed those thoughts away, instead making sure that the spotlight was stable and ready to track the seapony as she moved. She wouldn’t stay still for too long; only sixteen bars of music, then she’d begin swimming toward Toccata’s left. Toccata counted off the four bars of silence between her reveal and the music’s return, and as soon as Cantata began to sing, Toccata found herself mouthing the words along with her, the music of the song imprinted on her soul like a first memory.
What do I see,
When I look ‘cross the sea?
The white gulls a’flying,
The storm-tossed trees drying?
The light traveled left in flawless unison with Cantata’s swim across the stage, the seapony twirling once as she took her new position. The jewelry swaying from her body caught the spotlight just right, and Toccata smiled to herself as it glittered around the vocalist’s body. Working the spotlight may not be the most glorious job in the Conch Hall theatre, but she was the best at it. It wasn’t what she wanted to do in the theatre, but it was what she’d been given. At least here, she got as close to the music as she could ever hope to be.
What can I hear,
When I turn up an ear?
Waves a’crash on the sand,
Moved by unspoken command?
Water moved at her side, and Toccata quickly glanced to the left. A light blue and faint purple hippocampus swam up to her side, little stubby fins steering his momentum, and his tail wrapped around a metal railing to keep himself anchored. “Damn, she’s got a voice smoother than pearls,” he whispered to her, smiling at Cantata’s vibrant performance. “No wonder she’s the best in the guild. Think I should ask her out?”
Toccata rolled her eyes. “Quiet, Periwinkle,” she hissed at him. “I’m trying to focus.”
“Right, right,” Periwinkle said, throwing up his fins in submission. “Sorry, I forgot you don’t like it when creatures talk during the music. But I mean, you’ve heard this song a million times before, and you’re so good at music you can hear a song once and remember it. It’s not like you can forget it or anything—!”
“Peri!” Toccata fixed him with a sharp glare. “Shhh!”
“Sorry! Sorry…”
Cantata moved from the left side of the stage to the right, and reprimanding Periwinkle nearly caused Toccata to fall behind. She quickly pivoted the spotlight to follow the seapony across the stage, the circle of light jerking once before it continued its smooth walk from left to right. Down in the seating gallery, the stage director looked back up in Toccata’s direction, the slipup with the spotlight obviously noted, but to her relief, he didn’t stop the rehearsal to call her out on it.
These glittering waters,
The homes of my daughters,
The endlessly splendid sea green…
Periwinkle frowned at the stage, shaking his head as Cantata spun about, landing back in center stage as the curtains rose behind her to reveal the set. “Doesn’t that bother you?” he asked Toccata, a fin pointed at Cantata and her costume. “I mean, she’s pretty and all, and she’s got a great voice, but she isn’t anything like the real deal.”
Are nothing so splendid,
As a song yet unended,
Sung by the great siren queen!
“No,” Toccata growled at him, already trying to block the talkative hippocampus out so she could focus on her work. “I don’t think about it.”
“Alright, alright,” Periwinkle said, holding out his fins in a placating manner. “I’ll drop it. I gotta make sure that the rest of my seahorse buddies are doing their jobs, anyway.”
“Like how you’re not doing yours?”
Periwinkle chuckled. “I’m always working, Toto. Say, we’re going to Treasure tonight after rehearsal, right?”
Toccata spared a nod for the hippocampus. “Of course.”
“Awesome! See you then!”
He paddled away, returning once more to the darkness above the stage, and leaving Toccata to work the spotlight in peace. But try as she might to push those thoughts away, his comment lingered with her long after he left. Toccata couldn’t help but watch with a dour look as Cantata swam about the stage, living her dream beneath the bright lights of Conch Hall, in a costume designed to disguise her as something she was not. Cantata was a seapony, but Queen Vivace had been a siren. Toccata knew that she could have easily played the siren queen; she knew all the songs by heart, and her voice was even better than Cantata’s. She was, after all, a real siren, and her music was her magic, her very being. It would make more sense than having a seapony prance about on stage, no matter how talented she was.
But of course, seaponies, hippocampi, and all other sea creatures who lived in the magnificent underwater city of The Reef were allowed to sing in public. Sirens, on the other hoof, were not.
So instead of swimming about on stage and living her dream, Toccata tried to content herself with running the spotlight in Conch Hall. After all, it would be the closest she’d ever get to being Cantata.
The final rehearsal lasted for two hours more, and then everycreature floated around while stage director Scallop read off his notes and gave some last-minute instructions. Then they stayed to clean up the fourth song in the second act and the finale of the third, and by that time, the sun had already disappeared somewhere behind the land beyond the water. With twenty-four hours to go before the opening premiere, but only sixteen before the stage crew would be back at Conch Hall to prepare for the showing, everycreature finally broke for the night and went their separate ways.
For the vocalists, that meant a night carousing in the upper strata of East Reef, home to fantastic buildings of coral and sea glass well out of the reach (and budget) of most denizens of The Reef. For the stage crew, for creatures like Toccata and Periwinkle, that meant going the opposite direction, to the bars and restaurants of Lowtown, erected along the sandy floor of the magnificent underwater city. While it certainly wasn’t part of the fabulous neighborhoods of places like East Reef, Lowtown was ten times livelier and a hundred times more entertaining for a siren. For one thing, the sea creatures didn’t care that she was a siren, a dangerous denizen of the deep. And for another, the buildings here were large enough to accommodate her bulky, muscular frame. Toccata easily dwarfed everycreature else in the stage crew; doorframes were her arch nemeses all across the Reef, and they limited where she could accompany her friends to enjoy drinks after a long day’s work.
The bar she and Periwinkle had chosen was a favorite of theirs, a little tavern named Sunken Treasure just off of the bright city lights lining Coral Avenue. They had secured the far end of the bar, the huge siren and the tiny hippocampus making an odd pair, but nocreature paid them much mind. They were just two more colorful denizens of the rainbow of creatures that called The Reef home.
Periwinkle had already buried himself in a plate of kelp fries and algae-stuffed sponge, the little hippocampus eating what Toccata always thought was a disproportionate amount for his size. Toccata herself had ordered a plate of oysters, scallops, and clams, and simply tossed the mollusks into her mouth like chips, her beak and teeth making short work of the shells with a satisfying crunch. A pair of tankards filled with fermented seaweed and plankton sat in front of the two, the enchanted rims keeping the seawater they lived in from mixing with the drinks inside.
“Did Cantata sound off on the last song to you?” Periwinkle asked between mouthfuls of kelp fries. “We had to go back and do the finale twice. That isn’t like her.”
“I… thought her voice was fine,” Toccata said, grasping the little tankard between her large siren hooves. “She’s everything Scallop could ask for.”
Periwinkle snorted in amusement. “You’re not good at lying, Toccata. You know better than anycreature else when the music isn’t perfect.”
Toccata frowned into her drink. Periwinkle was right; Cantata’s voice had sounded raw and flat by the end of the rehearsal today. It would have been barely noticeable to anybody outside of the theatre, but the stage crew and everycreature inside had been around her long enough to know when her voice was off. Toccata especially, being a siren, had noticed it the second the seapony’s voice had taken on a rough edge halfway through the second act.
“She probably just overdid it for the final rehearsal,” Toccata said. “Cantata’s a professional. She’ll take things easy tonight and be well-rested for tomorrow.”
“What, you don’t think she’s gonna be partying with all the other vocalists in East Reef?” Periwinkle chuckled. “Seas and sands, what I wouldn’t give to get to go to one of those parties. That shelf’s got the best views of the Reef’s skyline at night. Can’t find that anywhere else.”
Toccata shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Just go swim up, Peri. You don’t need to be in East Reef to look at the city at night.”
“Yeah, but then there’s no booze on fin,” he said. “Plus, there’s sharks out there. Sharks and hippocampi don’t get along.”
“I don’t think a shark would mess with you if you have a siren nearby,” Toccata said.
“What can I say? I’m just that irresistible.”
The door opened at that moment, and Periwinkle waved a fin as a mermare swam inside. “Rococo! Over here!” he exclaimed, gesturing to the empty stools nearby. The mermare swam around the bar to join them, red mane trailing through the water behind her until she curled her tail under her body and rested it on a stool by Toccata’s side.
“Glad to see I’m not too late,” Rococo said, nodding at the half-emptied plates of food in front of Toccata and Periwinkle. “Wrap up with the pit took a bit longer than I was expecting. Can you believe that with opening night tomorrow, some merponies didn’t know what time rollcall was?” Conch Hall’s orchestra conductor shook her head in disbelief and flagged the bartender over. “Something stiff,” she said. “And some crab legs, please. Aquarius, I need to unwind after all this crap at the Hall.”
As the bartender fetched Rococo her drink and food, Periwinkle turned to her and raised an eyebrow. “So? Did you notice Cantata seemed off today?”
“I guess,” Rococo said with a shrug. “My attention’s more focused on keeping the orchestra together. I only pay attention to her enough to make sure that she’s not falling behind. But if she was, I know Toccata would’ve picked up on it immediately.”
Toccata hunched a little bit more over her seat. “Yeah…”
“Ah, don’t worry about it, you big sea dragon,” Rococo said, playfully punching Toccata’s leg. “We’ve all heard you sing in private before. You can tell us the guild’s prima donna is a washed up hag.”
“I’d never!” Toccata exclaimed. “She’s the best vocalist in the guild for a reason!”
“Yeah, and that reason’s that they don’t let sirens join.” Periwinkle shook his head and looked aside at Toccata. “I ever tell you that I think that’s squidshit?”
“Yes,” Toccata said, shoulder blades pinching together as she hunched over. “All the time…”
“Peri, you know she doesn’t want to talk about that,” Rococo said, raising an eyebrow at the hippocampus. “Just let her be, okay?”
“But if I don’t talk about it, who will?” Periwinkle asked, nearly knocking over his drink with a wave of his fins. “The Dazzlings, that was so long ago. Like, centuries ago! And ever since then, the stupid city’s been nothing but hostile to sirens. They don’t let them sing, they don’t let three or more gather in one place or sit too close together in a theatre, and I mean, come on, all the new buildings they’re building in East Reef aren’t even big enough for sirens to go inside! All because three freakishly talented upstarts tried to take over the city with their voices a thousand years ago—!”
“Peri!” Rococo hissed at him, her features set in a sharp frown. “Enough! Please! Let’s just… enjoy ourselves. Right, Toccata?”
“…Yeah…” Toccata said, her draconian eyes wandering around the bar and noting all the concerned looks thrown in her direction. “It’s going to be a big night tomorrow. I just want to relax before then.”
“Yeah, might as well keep this low-key. Tomorrow night’s going to be the really wild party,” Rococo said. “There’s a reason there’s a day between opening night and the second show. You can’t get seaponies to sing or play an instrument when they’re so hungover they can’t even swim right.”
“You’re right about that,” Periwinkle said. “Think Scallop’s gonna take us out to that five star restaurant again? That was real nice when we went there last year.”
“I don’t think they’ve got enough booze for all of us,” Rococo said with a laugh. “I’m pretty sure we drank that place dry, and that’s an impressive feat under the sea!”
Periwinkle had a hearty laugh at that. “Maybe they’ll be prepared this time. They should be, at least. Nobody parties under the sea like the creatures of Conch Hall!”
“That’s right!” Rococo rubbed her hooves together as the bartender brought her her food and drink, and she raised her glass into the water. “Here’s to the three misfits of Conch Hall!”
“You’re hardly a misfit!” Periwinkle protested. “You’re the conductor of the pit!”
“Misfit in spirit!” Rococo corrected. Toccata merely chuckled and raised her glass, pinching it between her hooves, and crashed it together with Periwinkle’s and Rococo’s. Splatter from their booze slid up out of their glasses, where it swirled around in the seawater before quickly dispersing into nothing. When Toccata took a breath, she could faintly taste the tickle of alcohol around her gills, and then it was gone.
“And when we’re done, maybe we can listen to Toccata sing us the right rendition of all the songs,” Periwinkle said, winking at the siren. “Or at least Queen Vivace’s opener. That one’s really good.”
Toccata could feel herself blushing. “Guys…”
“Hey, one way or another, I’m getting a song out of you,” Periwinkle said. Then he looked past her at Rococo. “And I’m sure Ro would love to set it to music.”
“You kidding me? That’d be the best.” Rococo smiled supportively at Toccata. “We should get you in a studio some day and let you record some records. It’s not like you can do magic over vinyl, right?”
“No, but that’s…” She paused, words stopping on the tip of her tongue. What had she been about to say? Impossible? Illegal? It’s not like she could do magic if creatures weren’t listening to her live. Maybe she could do it under an alias. Wouldn’t that be a way to live her dream, to make music every creature in The Reef could enjoy?
“That’s a good idea,” she finally said, a smile manifesting on her scaly lips. “Can we do that?”
“My sister’s got a studio we can use,” Rococo said. “What can I say? Music runs in the family.”
“Oh, can I be the producer?” Periwinkle asked. His fins fluttered as he entertained that thought. “I always thought I’d be a great producer. ‘Producer Periwinkle,’ think that’s got a good ring to it?”
Toccata couldn’t help herself but chuckle. “I like it,” she said. “But do you have the resources to help me go platinum?”
“Psshhh. I’ll get you whatever you need, Toccata. Don’t underestimate my hippocampus charm.” He shoveled the rest of his dinner down his gullet and burped, the little bubbles rapidly rising toward the ceiling of the bar. “Once I pull a few favors, you’ll be top of the charts for weeks!”
“Oh, and how much of the sales would you want?” Rococo asked, smirking at him. She flipped a crab leg into her mouth, crunching on the end, before asking, “A third?”
“Absolutely not!” Periwinkle exclaimed. “I won’t take anything less than eighty!”
“Eighty?!” Toccata answered that with a laugh. “But I’ll be the one doing all the work!”
“Hey, don’t forget about me,” Rococo said, the crab leg hanging out the side of her mouth. “I’ll have to get all the music arranged!”
“Listen, I’m the one taking the loss here!” Periwinkle explained. “I’m not gonna be able to do any promos and stuff, you know? Sponsorships! That’s where the real money comes from. Toccata, you’ll be swimming in so much gold you’ll make me look like a beggar in comparison!”
“And what about me?” the mermare of the group asked. “Or my sister? We’re the ones who’d actually be getting this thing set up!”
“Ah, details. We’ll figure something out under the table.”
“Right now we should be focused on tomorrow,” Toccata said, trying to bring the silliness back down to earth for a moment. “We’re not going to get very far in this whole recording enterprise if we all get fired for doing a poor job.”
“We’ll be fine,” Periwinkle assured her, taking a sip from his drink. “And besides, if things don’t work out for me, I could always move back in with my mom. She’d love to have me around for a few weeks or months or however long it’d take me to get a new job.”
Rococo shuddered. “His poor mom,” she murmured to herself.
“Well, you might have your mom to go back to, but I have to cover my apartment all by myself, and they charge extra because I need it to be larger,” Toccata said. “And my mothers are somewhere on the other side of the ocean, so if I had to go live with them, we’d have some problems recording songs. They hate cities.”
“I wouldn’t blame them, at least not when it comes to The Reef.” Periwinkle thought for a moment, his brow furrowing as he tapped the tip of his tail to his nose. “Wait, that’s something I’ve always wanted to know. How are more sirens born if you’re all, well, ladies?”
Toccata threw up her hooves in surrender and backed away from the bar. “Okay, that’s good enough for me for tonight. Thanks for dinner, my new producer. I really appreciate it.” She smiled and winked at Rococo. “See you tomorrow, Ro.”
“Yeah, see you too,” Rococo said, waving as Toccata swam away.
That left Periwinkle stammering behind her as Toccata slipped out the door. “H-hey! Wait! Don’t stick me with the bill, I just wanna know!”
Rococo’s amused voice followed Toccata into the streets, just audible enough for the siren’s ears. “Listen, Periwinkle, sirens are all female, I’m amazed you haven’t seen porn of it yet…”
Shaking her head, Toccata pointed her nose up and left the bar behind, her powerful tail propelling her onwards through the water and back to her apartment on the south side of town. Sea creatures of all shapes and sizes swam out of her way as she approached, some giving her wary looks, others watching her move with awe. It was nothing new for the siren, but she did always appreciate it when there was more of the latter than the former, and she liked it best of all when nocreature paid her any special attention. But things were getting better in that regard, at least. Maybe one day, nocreature would look at her like she was different. The Reef was already diverse enough as it was; what was one more accepted species in the great melting pot of the underwater metropolis?
Toccata hummed to herself as she rounded the block and let her mind wander as she melded into the current of colorful denizens moving to and fro through the city. Life in The Reef might have its ups and downs, but if there were two sea creatures she knew would always have her back, it would be Periwinkle and Rococo. In a city that didn’t appreciate sirens, that meant all the more to her.
“Staccato Stanza,” Toccata murmured to herself, staring blankly through a window to the glowing lights of the city outside. The ambient din of a gathering crowd had started to fill the concert hall, echoing off of the coral walls and making any air bubbles it passed through twitch and tremble. “No, that’s too similar to my name. What if people find out? Hmmm… Mezzo Piano? No, no… Melodious Octave? Ugh, that’s stupid.”
“What’s up, Toto?” Toccata glanced over her shoulder as Periwinkle paddled through the water toward her, his stubby fins slowing him to a stop by her side. “You talking to yourself again?”
“Maybe.” Toccata spun about with a swish of her tail, her dorsal fin brushing against the wall that was now behind her. “Trying to think of a pseudonym for the record thing with Rococo. Maybe over the weekend, she and I could go see her sister’s studio. I’ll need to have a name if I’m going to start making music there.”
“Well, what’s wrong with Toccata?” Periwinkle asked her. “I think you’ve got an awesome name.”
“Oh, well, thanks,” Toccata said, tail swishing back and forth at the little compliment. “But if I use my name, well, everycreature at the Conch is going to know it’s me, and the whole point was that I could make music if nocreature knew I was a siren.”
“Oh yeah. Forgot about that part.” Periwinkle tapped the tip of his long tail to his snout. “Now I need to think of a name for our label company as well. Peri and Pals? Nah, that sounds like a guppies’ show. I’ll need to think about that later.”
Toccata let out a little chuckle and let herself drift downwards until she could use her tail to prop herself up against the floor. “We probably need to be in position soon, don’t we? All the vocalists should be here by now. I’m surprised I don’t hear Rococo warming up her musicians.”
“Eh, it’s probably just that last minute crunch,” Periwinkle said. “There’s always something that happens at the last minute that stops the premiere from opening on the dot. That just means more time to relax before the first number. C’mon, let’s go see how the crowd’s filling out.”
The hippocampus floundered away through the water, his fins and tail paddling hard to get him moving, while Toccata almost lazily pushed herself off the wall and moved her tail in smooth, slow motions to keep pace at his side. The pair of sea creatures weaved their way through the organized chaos backstage, dodging props and set pieces tethered to buoys that would soon be dashing onto and off of the stage with each scene change. The stage crew chatted easily amongst themselves, but the tension in the water was palpable. Even long-time veterans still got jellyfish in their stomachs on opening night, and Toccata was no different.
Periwinkle pulled back the curtains just enough to stick his head through, though Toccata’s large snout forced them open a little wider when she tried to get a look as well. A thousand and half again seats greeted them, filled with a thousand and half again sea creatures, with everything from hippocampi to seaponies to sirens arranged in the ascending rows of chairs. Even the upper balcony was filled with orca ponies, with the chamber above and behind their seats filled with fresh air for the air-breathing orcas to take a few breaths during scene changes. That part of the audience always fascinated Toccata the most, even more so than the score of sirens that often attended the musicals. The shows in Conch Hall were so legendary, and The Reef in shallow enough waters, that even creatures that couldn’t breathe underwater were more than willing to take a dive down to see a production.
“Heh, no ponies today,” Periwinkle observed, almost as if he was reading Toccata’s mind. “That’s a shame. I would’ve thought that Vivace would have brought at least a few down to hear it.”
“Ponies are even less fond of sirens than the crustaceans that run The Reef,” Toccata said. “They haven’t exactly had good experiences with us.”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“My mothers. It’s why the choir doesn’t go near the coast.”
Periwinkle blinked. “The choir?”
“A group of sirens,” Toccata elaborated, shaking her head. “You know, seaponies have schools, hippocampi have herds…”
“Ah.” Periwinkle snickered, his tail shifting positions on the fold of curtain he’d anchored himself to. “I should’ve known, honestly. Have you told me that before?”
“Probably ten or twenty times now.”
“Maybe by the next ten or twenty I’ll remember that.” Periwinkle winked at her. “I’ve got a mind like a steel trap.”
The siren rolled her eyes. “A rusty one, you mean.”
“Hey, saltwater’s bad for metal. You know that.” The hippocampus shifted his eyes from the gathering crowd to the pit and frowned. “Ro doesn’t look too happy. Wonder what’s up?”
Frowning, Toccata followed his gaze to the pit. The musicians were all gathered and held their instruments, but they seemed uncomfortable and anxious. In front of them, Rococo swam back and forth, doing her best to keep low and out of sight of the sea creatures gathered in the seats nearby, but the way she gnawed on one of her hooves betrayed her worry. Toccata watched her swim back and forth for a few seconds before narrowing her eyes and twitching her antennae. A sharp whistle escaped her beak, infused with a touch of her magic to only reach Rococo’s ears, and the seapony jerked her head up and looked in their direction. Toccata gestured for her to come over, and after glancing around at the crowd, the mermare hurriedly paddled her way back behind the curtain.
“Please tell me you have some good news,” Rococo said as soon as she ducked behind the curtain.
Toccata and Periwinkle looked at each other. “Uh… what?” Periwinkle asked her. “What’s going on?”
“Oh, shove an urchin up my cloaca,” Rococo grumbled, pressing a hoof to her temple. “Cantata wasn’t at roll call. Scallop had swimmers going everywhere to find her. Seriously, where have the two of you been that you didn’t hear about this?”
“I was making sure the lights were set for tonight, then… well, I was elsewhere waiting for the call to places,” Toccata said. Then she rubbed her hooves together in worry. “But Cantata’s missing?”
“She’s probably hungover with her head in the sand,” Periwinkle said, letting go of the curtain and floating between the other two. “You know how the vocalists love to party, and Cantata, well, she’s not exactly known for taking things easy when she goes out.”
“But she’s a professional,” Rococo protested. “She’s not some rookie on her first big show. She’s never been late. Ever! Something must have happened to her.”
Toccata turned her head back towards the audience in worry. Even though she couldn’t see them beyond the curtain, she could already imagine how they’d react if they learned their expensive tickets to opening night were all for nothing. “I hope she’s okay…”
Commotion caught the attention of the three friends, and they turned toward backstage in time to see Scallop burst through the door and toss his clipboard aside in disgust. “I can’t believe it,” the director growled, grabbing a chair and sitting down in it with his head in his hooves. “Of all the damned nights…”
Periwinkle paddled a little closer. “Uhh… what’s up, boss?”
Scallop bared his teeth in a grimace and looked up at the three friends. “Cantata’s at the urgent care right now. She can’t make the show.”
Toccata and Rococo gasped. “Goodness!” Toccata exclaimed. “What happened? Is she alright?”
“She caught an algae bloom around her gills,” Scallop explained. “That’s why her voice was a little raspy yesterday. It got worse overnight. She was going to try and sing through it, but…”
Sighing, the director knocked his seat back and slowly sank to the floor. “We’re going to have to cancel the opening, refund all these tickets. This is going to be a disaster. This was going to be our biggest opening in the Conch in years, and of all the things that could have gone wrong…”
All was silent as the reality of the situation set in. A few more seaponies and hippocampi from the stage crew floated awkwardly around, exchanging concerned looks with each other. The other vocalists who’d been gathered backstage conversed in hushed whispers. Toccata nervously bared her teeth, digging the point of one fang into the cleft in her hoof. And the noise of the crowd outside continued all the while, oblivious to the disaster unfolding behind the curtain.
Finally, though, it was Periwinkle who broke the silence. “Why is this a problem?” he asked, swimming into the middle of the group. “Vivace is a musical about sirens, right? Cantata was playing the queen herself. If you ask me, she should have been the backup, not the lead. Because we’ve already got our own siren, and she’s a thousand times better than that mermare is.”
Toccata’s scales paled as she immediately realized what Periwinkle was saying. “Oh, n-no, I… Peri, no.”
“Why?” Periwinkle asked her, turning around to face the siren. He swam right up to her snout, only emphasizing the comical size difference between the large siren and the small hippocampus. “Toccata, you’ve always wanted to perform at the Conch. We all know that. It’s been your dream since you were a little newt swimming after your mothers. And the only thing that’s ever stopped you was some old sandy law that nocreature cares about anymore. So why not now? I guarantee you all those creatures in their seats out there, they’d much rather hear your amazing voice than be told to go home because the fake siren got green gills and couldn’t sing.”
“Peri,” Toccata whined, “please, just stop…”
The hippocampus instead only turned around and waved his stubby fins at everycreature gathered backstage. “How many of you have heard Toccata sing before?” A whole slew of hooves and fins rose to answer him, and his tail coiled around a curtain rope to keep him in place as he gestured back toward the siren. “Okay, and is her voice the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard, or is it not?”
Toccata shrank back when she saw the assembled sea creatures nodding in agreement with Periwinkle. “But… the law says…”
A hoof on her shoulder stopped her, and she nearly brushed noses with Rococo when she glanced at her side. The conductor wasn’t smiling, but there was a firm determination in her eyes. “Toccata,” she said, tail paddling her closer, “I am going to get the pit to play the best they’ve ever played, just for you, and if somebody tries to raise a fuss about this, they’re going to have to get through me first. You got that?”
“I…” Toccata didn’t have a response to that. Instead, she looked helplessly at Scallop, at the thoughtful expression on his face. He had to say something to get them all off her case. As soon as he said they weren’t going to do it, it’d all be over.
Instead, the seapony only looked hard at Toccata. “Toccata,” he began, rising from the floor and drifting closer. “Do you want to do this?”
Toccata opened her mouth to say no, to say that she didn’t want to break the law… but no words came out. She struggled to force her vocal chords to move, but they were paralyzed, stiff as stone. It was like some magic had stolen her voice, preventing her from saying the words she wanted to say—but also hoped she wouldn’t.
She closed her mouth, sharp fangs gliding past scaly lips. Her throat relaxed, but she didn’t even know if she could bring herself to tell Scallop no. And not because it would disappoint him; but because it would disappoint herself. Periwinkle was right—as he always had been. She’d always wanted to sing in the Conch. It was the reason she’d gone to The Reef in the first place. If she’d just wanted to sing, then that never would have been a problem. She knew that she could have swam with her mothers in the choir, singing into the deep blue every day of her life. But performing for a crowd, being a part of the show—that was her passion. And she knew that as well as everycreature else did.
So when she did open her lips again, her voice was accompanied by a nod. “Yes,” she said, all but breathless. “I… I do.”
She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw the tiniest bit of a smile in the corner of Scallop’s mouth. “Do you know all of Cantata’s lines? Not just her songs, but her lines. There’s more to this thing than singing.”
Emboldened, Toccata slowly straightened her spine and nodded. “Yes,” she assured him. “And probably better than Cantata does.”
That got a chuckle out of the crowd gathered backstage—even the other vocalists. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Scallop bobbed his head. “Alright. Well, I don’t think we need to get you a costume… or get a microphone on you. Having a siren for our siren queen solves a lot of issues when you think about it.” He gestured aside to the other vocalists, whose worry had been replaced with relief and excitement. “You might want to do a quick practice run on the banquet dance with Prince Sojourn, though. The choreography wasn’t exactly scripted for a siren.”
Toccata looked to Tremolo, the merstallion playing Prince Sojourn, and flashed him a toothy—if nervous—grin. “So… will you twirl me during the second verse, or should I twirl you?”
“Normally I’d say ‘allow me’, but who am I to tell the great Queen Vivace what to do?” The seapony chuckled, bringing in giddy laughter from the rest of the cast and crew backstage. Toccata could feel the change in atmosphere tingling her antennae, and to realize her dream was this close to reality set her heart off in an anxious flutter.
It was Scallop who swam in and set things moving again with a wave of his hooves. “Alright, well, come on then! Those creatures out there, they’re waiting for this thing to get started! Places, everycreature, places!”
Seaponies and hippocampi swam to and fro, their chatter managing to block out the din from the crowd on the other side of the curtains. Toccata floated in place, dazed and at a loss for words, until Periwinkle and Rococo swam in front of her. “Yeah! It’s about time!” Periwinkle exclaimed, his translucent fin slapping the tip of Toccata’s beak and making her sneeze in surprise. “I hope everycreature out there is ready for a song, because are they in for a treat!”
“It’s not every day you get to set music to a siren’s voice,” Rococo said, her smile much more subdued but still beaming with joy for her friend. She pressed the side of her muzzle against Toccata’s snout in a show of support and winked at her. “We’re making history, Toto.”
“The first siren to perform in Conch Hall in centuries!” Periwinkle exclaimed.
“I know, Peri. You don’t have to tell me.” Toccata slowly pulled back from her two friends and flagged the spines of her dorsal fin. “Let’s make it a good show then, right?”
“It’ll be better than good. It’ll be fantastic!” The hippocampus flashed her one last grin before his fluttering fins took him away. “I need to get on the spotlight, though. Guess I’ll have to move it myself if you’re not up there to do it!”
Rococo raised an eyebrow. “Can you even move that thing?”
“What, you think it’s too much for me? Fish sticks, Ro, you ain’t seen nothing yet!” With that little exclamation, the hippocampus paddled off for the rafters above the stage, disappearing into the darkness overhead.
The mermare shook her head. “I’d love to see his little tail tugging on that big spotlight of yours,” she said, smirking up at Toccata. “I’ll do my best to keep up with you, though.”
Toccata blinked. “Keep up with me? I’m supposed to match your beat.”
“That was when Cantata was lead. When you’re playing with a siren, that’s a lot different.” She lightly punched Toccata on the shoulder. “Knock ‘em out, Toto. We’re all rooting for you.”
The siren bowed her head. “Thanks, Ro. It… means a lot.”
“Yeah. Hell of a thing we’re doing, huh?” She touched the tip of her hoof to her brow and saluted as she backed toward the curtain. “Let’s give them a show they’ll never forget.”
Then she too slipped off of the stage, leaving Toccata alone behind the curtain. Trembling, the siren took a nervous breath, flushing seawater across her gills as she filled her lungs to the brim. Then, working her neck from side to side and loosening her shoulders, she began to warm up her voice.
Only this time, it would have purpose behind it, a purpose she’d been waiting for her whole life.
“Places! Places! Lights down in ten!”
Toccata nervously floated off stage right, her body shrouded behind the curtain as the last of the pit’s warmups faded away. The stage crew had all moved to their positions, and the first set pieces were arranged for the opening scene. It’d taken a few last minute adjustments to widen the stage for a significantly larger lead, and Toccata had tried to visualize the choreography Cantata had performed, just scaled up from a mermare to a siren. But now, those thoughts were far from her mind. As the lights in Conch Hall dimmed and the din of the crowd faded away, she allowed herself a single moment to take in what was happening.
She was about to sing in Conch Hall before fifteen-hundred sea creatures. If only her mothers were here to see their little guppy now.
After what felt like an eternity, the narrator swam out onto the stage, and the spotlight burned to life and followed him as he reached the podium. After a moment to get settled, the seapony placed his hooves on the podium and leaned closer to the mic, his voice seemingly echoing throughout the theatre.
“Hers is a story as old as the moon above, as persistent as the tide, as furious as a hurricane. It is a story that echoes throughout time, stemming from the days when the oceans were wilder, the currents untamed, the waters just a little bit clearer. Young and old alike know her story, for it is one that shaped history. She is a part of The Reef just as it is a part of us all, and without her, there would be no music in the songs of the dolphins or the wails of the whales, or in the hearts of every creature here tonight.
“Long, long ago, scores of sirens swam through these waters. Their music filled the days and serenaded the nights, music for all creatures beneath the sea to enjoy. The sirens were lovely and powerful, true, yet they were also fearsome, and they ruled the seas not only with song, but teeth and scales. The oceans were their domain, and they were led by a great queen. So great were her deeds, that though the names of the rest of her kin may have faded into obscurity, hers remains.
“This is the story of a siren queen who would be ruler of all beneath the waters. This is the story of a queen who thought she had everything, only to realize something was missing. This is the story of a queen who would be among the first to gaze onto the shore, where sand and stone abandoned the sea to stand above the tide. This is the story of Queen Vivace, and how she fell in love with a pony from the surface—and how she would do anything to make him hers.”
Almost as soon as the narrator finished his opening speech, the spotlight dimmed, and the orchestral pit struck out a low note. It hung low and stabilized, forming the foundation of the song, and Toccata found herself nervously rubbing her hooves together. Then, bit by bit, the music began to build and swell, reaching for a crescendo like a rising wave just before the break. The lights began to fade back in, and she anxiously looked around, looking for something to anchor herself to.
She found Scallop looking back at her. They locked eyes, yet didn’t say anything with the music continuing to build.
Then he nodded at her, and the spell broke.
Toccata almost missed her cue, but a hasty swish of her tail pushed her out onto the stage as the crescendo flattened out into a prolonged note. The lights hanging over her head shined down upon her, glittering off of her scales, creating a dazzling array of scarlet spots that dotted the walls and crowd in front of her. As she came to a stop in center stage, she let her eyes sweep out over the crowd in front of her, intending to savor the moment she came onto the stage at Conch Hall for the first of hopefully many, many times.
She froze in shock, like a shrimp caught in an angler’s lure. The crowd didn’t cheer or clap when she came out onto the stage—in fact, it was quite the opposite. Surprised, wide-eyed stares seemed to root her to her spot. It wasn’t just that they had been expecting Cantata, a mermare, to swim out onto the stage; never in a blue moon would anybody present in Conch Hall expect to see a siren on the stage before them—not even the other sirens in the back rows.
One tiny cough broke Toccata out of her trance. Her eyes darted downwards, where they found Rococo’s face. Barely, ever so slightly, the conductor nodded, and then her lips began to move. One, two, a-one, two, three…
Toccata’s lips parted on their own, and her tail set herself in motion, drifting toward the edge of center stage, before she even knew what was happening. The first of the song’s words escaped her lips in perfect unison with the music, and once she started, she couldn’t stop. Several figures in the crowd shrank back in surprise and fear as she began to sing, but none could tear their eyes away from the spectacle before them.
What do I see,
When I look ‘cross the sea?
The white gulls a’flying,
The storm-tossed trees drying?
A twirl, and she moved toward stage right. Rococo’s music flowed through her, swelling within her chest, and the gem embedded in her scales twinkled ever so faintly. It was reaching for the emotion in the crowd, she knew, but she stopped herself before it could feed. Sirens were creatures of song, and they fed off of the emotions of their audience, but she knew her audience was too shocked and surprised right now. Anything she tasted would be sour, and that would ruin her performance. So she forced herself to abstain and carry on with the song, pouring all of her energy into matching Cantata’s performance and one-upping it.
What can I hear,
When I turn up an ear?
Waves a’crash on the sand,
Moved by unspoken command?
When she looked back at the crowd, she started to see a change in their faces. Shock and fear began to give way to confused smiles and seaponies whispering to each other. Every note of her solo seemed to flow through Toccata’s body from the tip of her tail to the quivering ends of her antennae, and Rococo’s lively conducting pulled her through the music without any conscious effort on her part. Anxiety disappeared, replaced by determination to put her best into the song. And that she did, her voice gracing Conch Hall with music the likes of which it hadn’t seen in ages.
These glittering waters,
The homes of my daughters,
The endlessly splendid sea green…
Toccata let her eyes move higher in the theatre to where the other sirens sat in the back. Her throat almost seized with emotion at what she saw. The sirens watched her with trembling lips and tearful eyes, their antennae quivering as they watched one of their kind perform on a stage in front of them. As much as she always tried to deny or downplay everything Periwinkle ever said about how unfair it was that sirens in The Reef couldn’t sing, she knew just how important it was for those sirens in the seats to see one of their own singing for the city. Toccata closed her eyes and imagined her mothers sitting in those seats, holding each other’s hooves and doing their best to hold back their tears. They’d always been so supportive of her, and they’d never tried to scare her away from living her dream in The Reef, even if both knew how futile it was.
Or rather, how futile it had been.
Are nothing so splendid,
As a song yet unended,
Sung by the great siren queen!
As she reached the conclusion of the first verse, Toccata couldn’t help but take a moment for herself in center stage to smile and marvel at what she’d just done. She’d just sung a verse of a hit musical number in none other than Conch Hall. And when she drifted back downstage toward the center of the set pieces, the crowd couldn’t help itself but applaud. Whistles joined in with the clapping of hooves and fins, and Toccata was merely glad she had a few seconds before the second verse started to get control of her voice; otherwise it would have cracked with emotion. But as she drifted back to the cue-off point for the next verse and the next part of her routine, she looked up into the rafters, where she saw, ever so faintly, a hippocampus beaming back at her.
She’d done it. By the seven seas, she’d done it.
And there was nothing to stop her now.
She grinned wide, scaly lips pulled back, and launched herself into the second verse with the swell of the music.
The police arrived during the intermission.
Toccata found herself backstage, nervously eyeing the eight seaponies who’d swam behind the curtain uninvited. Nervous energy hung in the water, and the cast and crew had formed a line between the police and Toccata. Periwinkle floated by her right, and even Rococo had swam out of the pit to float by her friend.
Scallop floated in front of them all, the director of the musical putting himself first and foremost in the line of fire. And it didn’t take a genius to realize he was furious.
“What has she done wrong?!” he shouted at the police, pointing back at Toccata. “She didn’t do anything! She didn’t use her magic, she didn’t feed on the crowd, she didn’t attack anybody! This is unreasonable!”
The leader of the group of police merponies—or at least the one that’d swam forward to speak for them—sighed and slowly nodded. “I know,” he said, fixing Toccata with an apologetic look. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t do anything about it. If you ask me, those old laws should be repealed. The Reef hasn’t had a problem with sirens in centuries.”
“Yeah!” Periwinkle exclaimed, swimming out in front of Toccata. “That’s what I’ve been saying! So why arrest her now?!”
“Because they’re still the law,” the officer said. “And some merponies were worried enough about it that they called us. We’re just doing our jobs.”
“Squid shit,” Rococo growled, swimming out in front of Toccata to join Periwinkle. “You want her, you have to get through me!”
Everycreature tensed at the threat, Toccata most of all. “Rococo,” she said, reaching out to pull the mermare back, only for her hoof to be slapped away.
“Don’t stop me, Toto,” Rococo insisted. “They’re not taking you for singing.”
“We have to,” the officer said. “Please don’t make us have to arrest you as well.”
Rococo sneered at that. “Might as well. I’m not moving!”
“Yeah!” Periwinkle exclaimed. “Neither am I!”
“Then I don’t have a choice…” The officer moved his head, and the other police merponies pulled out cuffs and batons and began to swim closer.
Before they could approach, however, Toccata muscled her way forward, easily pushing her friends aside with her muscled siren body. “Don’t,” she said with a shake of her head. “Just take me. I’ll go.”
Scallop spun about, looking up at Toccata. “What? Toccata—!”
“I’m not going to get you all arrested because of me,” Toccata said, and her strong tail pushed her through the water and past the rest of the cast and crew. Coming to a stop in front of the police, she bowed her head in submission. “I’m not going to cause any problems. Just leave them out of it.”
Rococo sunk like a lead weight behind her. “Toto…”
“Hey,” Toccata said, turning around and offering the conductor a smile. “It’s fine, Ro. Really. Don’t worry about it; I’m sure it’s not going to be a big problem. And thank you, by the way.”
The mermare blinked. “Thank me… for what?”
“For giving me that little nudge in the opening song,” Toccata said. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to sing or swim. You made sure I sang. And because of that, I got to live my dream… if only for an hour.”
Then she turned to Periwinkle. “And Peri… thanks for sticking up for me. Always. Even when I wouldn’t do it myself.”
The hippocampus inched closer. “I’m going to do it again, Toccata. Just you wait.”
“I know you will. I can always count on you.” Her eyes fell to Scallop. “Cantata’s not going to be gone too long, right?”
Reluctantly, he shook his head. “She should be feeling better by the time the next show starts. The day off after opening night should give her some time to recover.”
“Good. She’ll fit right back in, and the show can go on.” Her forked tongue flicked over her lips, and she solemnly nodded. “Everycreature… thanks for the opportunity. It… i-it was everything I’d hoped for.”
“You’ll be back,” Scallop said. “We’ll get everycreature together, pay your bail. You’ll be fine, you hear?”
“I do.” Toccata managed a smile, then turned back to the officers. She put her hooves together, though giggled when they seemed at a loss for what to do with them. “Right… guess I’m too big for the usual.”
The lead officer looked her up and down. “You won’t try to swim? Won’t use your magic?”
Toccata shook her head. “No, sir.”
“Alright. Then we’ll just swim you down to the station, get this mess sorted out.” He gestured for the other police officers to guide her away, and they formed up around the siren. As she moved past the lead officer, however, he stopped them with a hoof. “Just so you know?” he said, looking her in the eye. “We showed up after the first act. Your voice was so good, though, that I waited until intermission. When we get this whole mess sorted out, I’d love to hear you sing again. Maybe in this very hall.”
“Oh… thank you.” The compliment caught Toccata off guard, and after the officer touched the brim of his cap with a hoof, the others gently nudged the siren onwards. She put up no resistance, letting them lead her away, and soon she’d left backstage behind.
As she emerged into the streets of The Reef and the officers began to lead her back to the station, Toccata could only chuckle and shake her head at her situation. If only her mothers could see this. Their little guppy, breaking the law and heading off to jail. She’d always been a rebellious newt, and somehow she didn’t think this whole ordeal would surprise them.
But they’d understand. She knew that much.
And soon the rest of The Reef would, as well.
