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Where is the magical Gaia now? She saved me once and saved West once. Doesn’t Eric deserve the same treatment?
Eric deserves to live.
I need him to live.
The water stops swirling around, and when it stops, before me is no man. No seal. No selkie.
This is an ocean king.
The God of the sea.
“Who are you?” I cry out. “What are you?”
I feel so tricked by him. He told me he wanted to protect me. In fact, he was luring me in--to what end? Why?
“You think you know what game you’re playing, but you’re wrong, Siren.”
I shake my head, I don’t know any games because after all this time, I still don’t know who I am?
I don’t know the truth but I’m practically begging for it.
No. I will not beg him. Not now. Not ever.
This creature is not a man, he is a god and he is strong and massive. With a gasp of shock, I realize what he is.
Who he is.
His face shines with ferocity. He’s half fish, half god and all-powerful. A golden crown encrusted with seashells sits atop his head and his bright silver hair is wild and free. He has a tail like me, but his arms are large and if I didn’t know better I’d call him King Triton.
He holds a magnificent trident and as I gaze upon it, I know why his eyes can reach inside my soul.
I know why my tattoo burns. I know because when I look into his eyes, I see myself.
“Poseidon,” I whisper. “That’s who you are, isn’t it?”
“I am. Poseidon, God of Olympus, and you are my daughter.”
I swallow back tears of terror, still confused, but also, finally finding answers.
He lifts his staff, his fist wrapped tightly around it, and he reveals his middle finger. I gasp.
It’s a replica of the ring my mom gave me on my birthday. She told me she found it in the basket the day she rescued me.
It is a golden band, glittering brightly, made of something ancient. Something mine.
Whatever bound this piece, melted the gold and soldered it for our fingers, is something older than time. Something from the beginning.
“It was the ring that brought you to me, isn’t it?” I ask trying to pull it off my finger. “I don’t want any part of your world. I want to go back in time, back to the beginning.”
Poseidon looks at me--my father looks at me. “This is the beginning. The ring is the beginning. You’ve come back to where you started.”
I shake my head. “No, no, no. I want to start at the ocean’s edge, not deep in the sea. I want to start where my mom and dad found – –”
He cuts me off, his voice blaring, booming so hard and loud that the cave shakes. The sea quakes. “No, I am your father. I’ve been looking for you since before you were born. And I finally found you.”
“Then why trick me? Why didn’t you just tell me who you are, what you are – –”
He shakes his head, and I know he’s holding something back.
Maybe the truth.
Maybe more.
“I have my reasons, child.”
“I’m not a child. I am a Siren. And I’m not going to listen to you if you insist on lying to me. I’m done with games.”
It enrages him, my self-possession. My confidence.
Good. Finally.
I wanted to a badass and now I find out I’m the daughter of Poseidon. If that doesn’t feel strong as hell I don’t know what would.
“I don’t need you,” I tell him. “I always thought I did, but I don’t. I already have everything I need.”
He laughs at this, tilting back his head.
How did my father become the villain of the story?
“Do you really have all the answers child? Do you know who your mother is?”
I swallow, and he must see my flash of hesitation.
He lips snarl, knowing he’s played the trump card.
Because of course, I want to know. Of course, I want to fill that great hollow in my heart.
But would it? Would knowing something like this change anything for me? Don’t I already have the life I want? Parents, who love me and friends who love me and men who love me? Isn’t that enough? Isn’t that everything?
Still, parts of my heart long for more.
“Tell me,” I say. “If you know the truth and you’re holding back, then tell me now!”
He says nothing.
I’m suddenly exhausted, he has worn me down.
He has Eric trapped and I don’t know how to free him and he knows the story of my origin and refuses to tell it.
Finally, he answers, “It isn’t that easy child.”
“Isn’t it? Why is it more complicated than just speaking the truth?
“A curse has been set upon me. I can’t tell you who your mother is, no matter how hard I might try, outside forces refuse to let me. The same way I couldn’t find you unless you put that ring on your finger, I can’t tell you who your mother is unless you are with all of your sisters.”
