Daughter of Poseidon: Chapter Six

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 five? Read it here, or go back to chapter one here.

CHAPTER SIX

DESTINY

For minutes Syrena only stood there and said nothing, eyeing the two paths that, just moments ago, resembled some of her closest living companions. Raindrops showered the beach, while lightning arced and thunder rumbled.

“Choose your path wisely,” Hecate had said. “Once you decide which to take, there is no going back.” But what did the goddess hope to accomplish by giving Syrena this task? She’d already informed Hecate that she’d decided what she must do, that she knew it meant she would never be welcome on Olympus again.

She turned to the footway where Spencer’s illusion once stood and put her face in her hands. This was a waste of time. The gods of Olympus had probably already discovered she and Diana were missing and were surely sending teams of demigod warriors after them. By morning we’ll be found and executed, she thought. All of this will have been for nothing.

That was probably Hecate’s plan all along, wasn’t it? Confuse them, scare them, take up just enough of their time so that they’d be caught. Syrena’s eyes grew warm and filled with tears. Maybe she should just break down, just cry. But then she recalled something else Hecate had mentioned: “I have no intention of turning you in to the King of the Gods, nor of killing you myself. But I also cannot allow you further passage until you’ve learned of both the paths at your crossroads and made a final decision on which to take.”

What then? Syrena wondered. Just go down one of these trails, and when I reach the end, she’ll let me go? Perhaps if she did that, she and Diana wouldn’t be caught by the Olympians. Perhaps they still had a chance to fulfill the prophecy. So long as there’s a chance, I have to try.

She stepped toward Spencer’s path, ready to do whatever it took for Hecate to let her go. When her sandaled foot connected with the first of the footway’s cobblestones, dozens of beams of flaming orange light shot out from between them and into the pouring rain, and she reached out, ever so carefully, for one of the rays. Why had the goddess manifested these? What was her intention in doing so?

When the tips of Syrena’s fingers touched the orange beam, a strange tingling sensation rushed through her body. The feeling wasn’t unpleasant, but she jerked away nonetheless. She blinked a few times, willing the tingles to subside, and an image flashed up ahead. It played out before her upon the trail, against the precipitation and orange rays. Its farthest edges glimmered along her peripheral like a curving, bending mirage.

She peered at the illusion, droplets piercing through it, and quickly discovered what it portrayed. It was distinctive, clearly a faraway, moving picture of Zeus’s Olympian palace on a bright and beautiful morning. The silhouettes of pegasi soared all around the palace.

“You can still go back,” the goddess said. However, her voice wasn’t an echo in the sky now. No, it was right next to Syrena, as though the deity was actually present. Syrena turned to see that the goddess had in fact appeared in the flesh beside her. “I know you hesitated to leave when you delivered your farewell letter for the Son of Hades, when you saw the Son of Zeus.”

“Of course I hesitated,” Syrena replied, turning back to the image of the palace. “I love them. I didn’t want to leave them, but I can’t go back. Nothing will ever be the same again.”

Hecate chuckled. “If you take this path, I assure you that your life will return to normal. No one will know about this little escapade. I guarantee the Son of Zeus won’t say anything. In fact, I think he’d be relieved to see you back.”

The picture of Olympus dissolved, quickly replaced with a new one—that of Spencer, Karter, and herself. The trio was doubled over with laughter about something, though Syrena had no idea what, hands resting on one another’s shoulders.

“This path will take you back to them,” Hecate continued. “It will ensure you spend the rest of your days on Olympus. Fed, cared for, and well rested, despite the fact you’ll still have to run errands for the gods on occasion. Taking this path would mean unlimited days spent on the beach, happiness and abundance for you and those you love. Perhaps the Daughter of Apollo will even pick this route, and then you’ll have all your best friends in one place.”

Syrena swallowed hard. What Hecate offered now sounded nice, but the goddess clearly didn’t know why she and Diana had turned against the gods in the first place. There were lots of events leading up to the decision, mostly involving the gods’ mistreatment of their demigod children, but the greatest reason was Pearl.

Heart aching, Syrena thought of Pearl, of her little sister’s choppy silver hair, her eyes the color of ocean waves, her infectious smile. Syrena thought of how the tiniest of Pearl’s giggles used to fill her chest with soothing warmth, and how she’d once felt comforted knowing she wasn’t the only one who not only missed their father, Poseidon, but also missed living in his palace at the bottom of the sea. She remembered when they had been small children, little girls racing each other through the halls of their father’s palace. She recalled playing with dolls they’d made from coral and seaweed as they sat in the courtyard and looked out at the blue-black water beyond.

But then she remembered the day Pearl died. Gods, it hadn’t even been a year ago yet. They’d been on a mission for Zeus: Syrena with Karter and Spencer, Pearl alongside Diana and their other former demigod teammate, Layla, Daughter of Ares. Syrena recalled Diana’s horror-struck screams as Pearl’s head was severed from her body and rolled across the temple floor that day, recalled her own wails when she realized her sister was gone forever, when the Olympians refused to bring the girl back to life despite her and Diana’s pleas.

“I can’t take this path,” Syrena said. “The gods are the reason my little sister is dead. Even with all the luxuries in the world, I can never forgive them for that.”

Hecate stepped in front of Syrena. Her silver eyes glinted, her straight burgundy hair sopping wet. The mirage showcasing Spencer, Karter, and Syrena dissipated. It left only orange beams and falling rain in its wake. “What if you didn’t have to forgive them? What if the pain from the loss of your sister simply . . . vanished?”

A lump formed in Syrena’s throat. “What do you mean ‘vanished’? Are you saying you can make me forget about Pearl altogether?”

“Of course not. You’d remember her, honor her. But the hurt that’s brewing inside you, that would disappear. The blame you place on the gods would be gone, and life as you know it, your life from before, would resume.”

For a long while Syrena mulled over Hecate’s proposition. If what the goddess said was true . . . I wouldn’t have to leave Spencer and Karter. And if she offered the same thing to Diana? Things really could be normal again. Almost.

She took a deep breath and turned toward the path where the hallucination of Karter once stood. “What about that path? What happens if I choose it?”

Hecate gestured toward the footway. “See for yourself.”

Heart pounding, Syrena made her way toward the other trail, and once she stepped onto it, more orange beams materialized. She brushed one with the tips of her fingers, prickles sweeping through her. A new mirage began playing out ahead, but this scenario didn’t appear as hopeful as the last.

At first she saw Spencer, but he didn’t look as he usually did. He was swathed in hues of gray and tears streaked down his face, his eyes puffy, his cheeks so gaunt it appeared he hadn’t eaten in weeks. He ran through darkness, screaming words Syrena couldn’t hear, until he reached the side of a girl in chains, a girl she did not know.

Syrena squinted. No, she knew that girl. That girl was her.

In the moving picture, Spencer pried at Syrena’s manacles as he shook and cried, until someone else appeared and dragged him away. Another boy. This one was pale, with shaggy hair and a lightning scar— Oh, gods. Karter.

Once Karter successfully pulled Syrena and Spencer apart, something flashed across the mirage, there and gone in an instant, and she blinked hard, trying to make out what was happening now as more rain pelted her in the face. She moved closer, then gasped at what she discovered.

In the image she saw herself lying there in chains, still and pale, lifeless. Dead.

Syrena pried her gaze from the hallucination and stumbled back.

“Do you see now?” Hecate asked, her tone almost mocking, as though to say “I told you so!” “If you go down this route, you’ll die. You’ll never be reunited with the Son of Hades and the Son of Zeus. Destiny is not usually a straight road, but this I’m sure of. All the signs point to it.”

Syrena’s whole body trembled. Her mind was made up. She was ready to take the other path, ready to go back to Olympus and allow the pain of losing Pearl to fade away forever. Ready to resume her old life. She’d always known she could die on this mission, known she could die if she fulfilled the Dreaded Prophecy, but she’d thought at least she’d be able to summon the mortals from the Before Time and help them before anything like that ever happened. She’d also hoped that perhaps she’d be reunited with those she loved at least one last time. So what was the point of going through with the mission if she was going to perish so quickly? What was the point of running away and finding the Fates if she wasn’t going to be able to make any difference to the world at all?

However, before she could take the other path, a strange sensation tugged deep in her stomach. It urged her to look at the mirage again, just one more time. And so she did.