being honest with me before, and that what I think—what I feel—has nothing to
do with your abilities, but everything to do with you.”
“Riden,” I say, stopping him.
“Yes?”
“You’ve lost a lot of blood, and I’m pretty sure you were dead for a time.
Maybe you should take some time to reclaim your strength—and your head—
before you say or do anything mad.”
“Like get shot twice?” he asks, relieving the tension in the room.
I laugh. “Yes, like that.”
“Fine, but since I know so much about what you’re capable of, would it hurt
if I asked you a question?”
“You may ask.” Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.
“What’s so special about your birth? How did you come to possess the
powers of sirens without fully becoming one? You said you’d tell me in exchange for the map. Though I didn’t offer it to you freely, you have it now, and I’d still like to know.”
Riden does know so much about me. He witnessed firsthand all the horrible
things I could do to him if I wanted. Yet he still talks to me as though we’re …
friends, almost. I don’t mind if he knows more. It’s remarkable that he’s
accepting me as it is. Not that I should care whether he does or doesn’t.
“My father followed his section of the map almost nineteen years ago. He wanted to see how far he could get with what he had. He and two ships from his
fleet came across an island that had never been charted by any cartographer in Maneria, save the one who made the map to the Isla de Canta long ago.” I know
this story by heart. When I was little, I asked my father to tell it to me repeatedly. Now that I’m older, I realize it’s a bit inappropriate for a young girl.
But my father has always treated me as though I’m older than I really am.
“What was the island?” Riden asks.
“We do not know its name. Only that it is located on the way to the Isla de
Canta. But its name is not important. What’s important is what they found when
they reached it.”
“What did they find?”
“A lagoon. A lagoon where beautiful women bathed in the water. Thinking that they’d go and have some fun, several men jumped overboard, including my
father. But instead of the women fleeing, screaming to get away, it was the men
who shrieked until their heads disappeared below the water’s surface.”
“But your father survived. How?”
I smile, remembering when he told me the story of how he and Draxen took
control of the Night Farer. “Don’t interrupt. I’m getting there.”
“Sorry.”
“The siren is a strong creature. Stronger than any single man. When she finds
her prey, she grips him by the shoulders and forces him down to the ocean’s bottom, where she has her way with him.”
Riden swallows. “How romantic.”
I cock my head. “Would you say it is any more terrible than the intentions of
the men who started for them in the first place?”
Riden is silent at that.
I continue. “A man will struggle and fight to save his life, but the siren will
always win. And those sirens who conceive while underwater will give birth to
siren children. Always girls, of course. Because sirens are always female.
“My father was grabbed by the most beautiful of them all. Their queen, even,
he claims. She, like the others, pulled him down to the ocean’s floor.”
“And?”
“My father struggled at first. He fought with all his might, but it was useless.
He knew he was going to die. And so, instead of struggling until the lack of air
became too much for him, he decided he would become a partner in what was happening.”
“You mean—”
“Instead of fighting, he returned her embraces and kisses. And for whatever reason, this saved his life. Because she brought him back to the surface. All the way back up onto land. For a child who is conceived by a siren on land will be
more human than not.”
“Stars,” Riden says, all other words leaving him.
“My father, and those who stayed aboard the ships, left the island, having gone as far as they possibly could without the other two-thirds of the map, and
sailed home. They were permitted to leave due to my father’s encounter with the
siren queen. She allowed them to keep their lives instead of sending all her subjects to finish them off.