Cover illustration and design © Gabrielle Ragusi
Syrena has a chance to make a difference, and so long as there's a chance, she has to try.
Five hundred years after the Greek gods destroyed the modern world, Syrena, Daughter of Poseidon, lives under the gods' tyrannical rule. However, a centuries-old prophecy says a war will be waged on them. And if that means there's a possibility to help those the Olympians have hurt, a possibility to change things for the better, Syrena will do anything to bring this prediction to life.
Even if it means losing everything she loves.
"Daughter of Poseidon" is a short story that serves as a prequel to War on the Gods, a completed series perfect for fans of Greek mythology and dark YA fantasy. Binge it today!
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Missed chapter six? Read it here, or go back to chapter one here.
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHILDREN
When Syrena set her gaze upon the illusion a second time, she no longer saw her corpse. Instead, she watched as a skinny, pale teenage boy with glasses and a pretty girl with long brown curls trekked across the ruins of an old city, weapons in hand. The pair’s clothes were odd, similar to what Apollo had described in the demigods’ history lessons regarding the Before Time. That was enough for Syrena to figure out who they were. She put a hand to her heart. “The Chosen Two,” she whispered. “The Chosen Two of the Prophecy.”
The image on the path finally dissolved, taking the mortals from the Before Time with it, and Hecate chuckled. “The hopeless little fools.”
She turned toward the goddess. “Do you really think they’re hopeless?”
“Darling, I don’t think so, I know so.” Hecate spread her arms out to the sky. Within moments the rain ceased, but the sun didn’t return, the “beach” still dark and gloomy. “So what are you waiting for? Why haven’t you gone home yet?”
Syrena paused. Why hadn’t she? “If I take this path”—she motioned at the one she’d just seen the Chosen Two in—“then the mortals from the Before Time will be summoned, correct?”
The goddess smiled mischievously. “That’s what all the signs are pointing to. But if you take that path, you’ll also die, never to be reunited with your loved ones again. So why would you want to go down that route? Didn’t I just tell you those mortals are hopeless, anyway?”
She turned away from Hecate. “But if they’re summoned here, then there’s a chance that someday they’ll be able to lead a war on the gods. And although it may be slim, it’s a chance nonetheless. A chance for change.” She thought of all the wrongs the gods had committed. Of the night Zeus had given Karter his horrible scar, of the day Pearl had been killed. This was what she had to do, the path she had to take. “Even if I die and never see Spencer and Karter again, at least I’ll have made a difference. At least I’ll have fought for those who couldn’t.”
For a long while Hecate said nothing, until finally she started laughing, a throaty chuckle that sent shivers down Syrena’s spine. She whirled around to face the goddess head-on. Was this the moment she’d be double-crossed? But the goddess was nowhere to be seen.
“I was hoping you’d say that.” Hecate’s voice reverberated across the sky. Just as the goddess finished her words, Syrena’s surroundings began to shred apart like fabric. It appeared as though the claws of some awful monster were ripping through the thin sheets that made up this illusion. Beyond the slashes, familiar pines stood tall in the night. Hecate is finally letting me go. Thank the gods. She thought for a moment. Er, perhaps not.
“Syrena!” Diana yelled, her voice coming from somewhere in the trees. “Syrena, where are you?”
Syrena sighed in relief and jogged down the path she’d chosen, toward one of the rips. Hopefully toward her friend. Once she reached a laceration, she tore through it and rushed into the forest. As she ran, branches and needles raked her arms. “Diana? I’m right here, Diana!”
Within moments she reached the tiny yellow-haired demigod, and Diana leapt forward and hugged her tight. Solace filled Syrena’s chest, and she embraced the demigod back, giving the girl’s shoulders a squeeze. “Did Hecate trap you and make you—you know, pick a path? With visions and stuff?”
“Yes,” Diana replied. She pulled out of their hug, her expression downcast.
“What did you see?”
“I saw . . . Pearl. And my memories of her. Hecate said she would wash away my grief—my feelings—for her, so long as I went home to Olympus. If I didn’t, the goddess said I’d never fully recover from the loss.” Her green eyes brightened just the slightest. “But I can’t ‘wash away’ my feelings for Pearl. That’s not something I’d ever care to do. No, I intend to make things right for her. We both do. And even if we can’t do that, at least we stood up to the gods, right? Anyway, I’m assuming Hecate pulled the same tricks on you. What did you see?”
Syrena opened her mouth to answer, but before she could say a word, Hecate’s voice sounded in the sky once again. “This isn’t the time for celebration or reflection, little demigods. It’s time for your final test of will, to determine whether you possess blood worthy of fulfilling the prophecy.”
In an instant cackles sounded from high up, and Syrena’s stomach turned. What in all of Hades does that mean? She tilted her head back, finding exactly what Hecate was referring to.
Above the demigods flew three creatures unlike anything Syrena had seen before. They wore rags and resembled beautiful women—that is, if beautiful women had giant flapping bat wings attached to their shoulder blades, hair made of blazing orange flames, and the strangest legs Syrena had ever seen. One leg appeared to be the fur-covered limb of a donkey, hoof and all, while the other was that of a human but looked as if it were crafted from pure, shining copper.
“Meet my children,” Hecate continued. “The Empousai.”
The Empousai hissed, revealing sharp fangs beneath their lips, and lunged for the demigods.
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