‘You are mortal.’
‘My body is, yes. But how I am known is not. You can hold such things, can’t you?’ I hasten the words so that it does not seem as though I have thought too deeply about it. Then I perform immediate regret, let him see what he wants to see, that I wish I could reclaim the words from the wall of water between us. He will not take a deal that leaves me whole. I hold my breath and pray, for the first time in many years I pray, that I have not judged wrongly. But if he can cut my mother to stars, turn her molten and set her burning on an inverted throne for eternity, he can grasp my future in the crater of his hands. He licks his lips. Such things are prized, precious. Men will draw the blood of millions for the sake of their reputations. To possess another’s is a great power,usually held by bards and poets. Poseidon rarely is afforded such luxury.
‘You would trade the future of your memory?’
‘Yes.’ I say it reluctantly as though it has been drawn from me.
‘I will outlast you. I will have eternity with your name, your image.’
‘Yes.’
‘So if I say I did not want you?’
‘Then they will never know you wanted me.’
‘If I say you were weak and did not fight? That I ravaged your kingdom and forced your family to its knees?’
‘Then that is what will be believed.’
‘If your famous face is lost? And your legacy is yours no longer?’
‘What do I know of immortality and legacy? Such things are for men and heroes and I am but a woman.’ My eyes are wide and frank, innocent still, despite my mature years.
‘At least you did not inherit your mother’s hubris.’ His smile is victorious, he can be generous now. ‘Well, if this is what you wish, then it is done. You are lovely – I will be pleased to have your face at last.’
I fight to keep my face looking uncertain. ‘If you swear to free her immediately. And not to harm her. Then yes, my lord, thank you. You are most benevolent.’
‘I am, aren’t I? But yes. I swear.’
I am reminded of my mother, stroking and stroking, batting my father between her sharp-clawed paws. The Nereids descend to watch what comes next. I hear them murmur to each other,what a shame, Ceto made such a good pet, now what will our sport be?I eye them as they surroundme and I almost, almost, slip. I wish to tear the skin from their faces and the hair from their heads and spit in every single eye. But that is not the way in which I do battle. I would lose, and anyway, into my mind, an image accompanied by words from a long-ago conversation,crabs in a bowl. They are clawing at each other, trying to escape. When one nears the lip of freedom, another drags them back and so they writhe on. They are in their bowl still. But we are on the precipice of our forever.
Amphitrite advances with a long coral knife and a silver bowl.
‘Do you, my Lord Poseidon, swear to release the Nereid Ceto, and leave her free and unharmed?’
‘I do.’
‘And do you, my Lady Andromeda, renounce all claim on the future of your face, your name and your reputation?’
‘I do.’
Her knife flashes twice. Red and gold mingle against silver. I feel the oath bind me. I do not care. I will be long gone and who or what is called upon to answer for it will have nothing to do with me. It never did. I can only be as I am now. Poseidon, eternal and determined to carve his story into the bedrock of the world, cannot understand this. He cannot see that what I have given him was never mine to give. He will never know the sweet mulch of the forests’ secrets or the peace that comes from pleasure that is not observed. He will never know love like ours. And so he will lose.
25
The Surf
Delphine returns me to the shore where she found me. Amphitrite accompanies us. We swim in silence until we break. I gasp in cool, light air, coughing up salt. Amphitrite places her hand upon my back and the internal chafing abates. We regard each other.
‘Thank you,’ I say, when I can breathe.
‘Thank you,’ she replies. ‘I could not save her. So thank you.’ I do not argue. She could have done more. It was not enough. But these words are so tired that they are meaningless now and I simply nod.
‘When will she come?’
‘Soon.’
‘And – she will come to me?’
