Even the deep has its disagreements. Hers are mostly with people who take without asking.
All characters below are fictional — invented antagonists for a fictional character.
Ruler of the wreck-fields, all teeth and old grudges. He declared her trench his hunting ground and lost the Quiet War in a single tide (see Timeline). He now opposes her the way a storm opposes a lighthouse: constantly, loudly, and without effect. She finds him "tiring, but instructive."
Surface poachers who drift-net the lanternfish and anything else that glows. She has never harmed them — she simply reweaves their gear into public art and floods the occasional dock. They have a standing bounty on "the blue ghost." No one has ever collected. Pip considers this hilarious.
A parliament of anglerfish aristocrats who consider the deep theirs by right of being the most frightening thing in it. They object to her on principle: she is kind, which they find suspicious, and popular, which they find worse. Their schemes are elaborate, slow, and invariably foiled by being too slow.
Not a who but a what: a ship's bell from a wreck that never stopped ringing, in a frequency that frays Slowsong verses mid-phrase. It is the one thing in the deep that genuinely frightens her — not because it is evil, but because it is noise that means nothing, and she has no verse for that.
She does not defeat enemies; she recontextualizes them — the Quiet, the prank, the verse about going home. "The water holds everything," she says. "Even the ones I don't like. Especially them. Someone has to."