Siren Daughter

by Cassie Day

  She says nothing no matter how many unnecessary turns I take or how I lead us toward my room, not hers. Demeter won’t have a chance to listen. Not again.

  When we’re in my room, the door closed behind us, my muscles relax. I settle in a chair at the table against one wall, close to the low-burning fire in the hearth.

  Persephone follows. She doesn’t sit, instead inspecting each line of grout on the mosaic table. I sigh, drawing her attention, and wave her toward the seat across from me. She sits, albeit on the edge of her seat.

  She bites her bottom lip. The longer I watch, the more her hands twitch against the tabletop until they clasp together. She wrings them until the skin reddens.

  “Well, this has been delightful,” I say. “Are we done?”

  She huffs, fire returning to her expression. There’s the formidable Queen of Nekros. “I’m sorry.”

  I don’t startle, not exactly, but my shoulders jump. My hands move in an aborted flail. Words fail me.

  “The sirens.” She shakes her head. “Molpe, Aglaope, and Thelxiope—they were my friends. The only ones I had. And when they fell because they let me leave with Hades, I did so little to find them.”

  Her face goes slack. “First I was settling into my marriage and new realm. Then my mother froze Prasinos, giving Zeus her ultimatum of me returned to her or the realm left a wasteland for eternity. I should have wondered where my friends had gone, where they ended up, but instead I schemed to stay in Nekros.”

  “Persephone,” I say, trailing off.

  “No, let me finish.” She scratches at one knuckle with a fingernail until it bleeds. “Even after I found a loophole through a Titan law, eating Hades’ enchanted pomegranate and being allowed to stay for half of each year—even then I didn’t look for them.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  Her smile trembles. “It’d been years by then. I assumed them settled. I assumed they’d forgotten about me in their new lives. I never thought they would’ve been rendered mortal, not until I met you. No one in this court tells me anything for fear of my mother’s wrath.”

  She swallows. “And I never thought Zeus would keep one here. I let myself be distracted and by the time loss had settled in, my dearest friends were forgotten by everyone else.”

  “You should’ve done something.”

  But with how many times my mother, Eudora, then Cosmas, were forgotten in the face of something or someone new, I have no anger left. How easy it is to push aside our grief. How easy it is to find some shinier or newer thing to focus on. Nekros’ shadowed halls and Athansi’s gilded fields of wheat—even my love for Charon and Desma.

  Persephone is no untouchable goddess. Not truly. She is as wretchedly human as any of us. As human as the original sirens and their choice to look the other way for the sake of her happiness.

  Now two of them are lost to time and death. Doesn’t death come to all creatures, even the Titans and gods, eventually? Death lacks judgement. Lacks the deferential attitude toward power or wealth and strikes regardless of both.

  Thanatos suits his title. He is as neutral as the force he has power over.

  “No apology for my ruined bargain? It was your mother listening in, after all.”

  She scowls. “I can if you’d like. But honestly, is there anything I could’ve done differently? I had no idea she’d stoop to spying on me.”

  She spits out each word so vehemently, I can’t help but think her sincere.

  I muster a smile. “What became of the third siren, Aglaope?”

  “I don’t know.” She smolders with determination. Her mouth firms into a tense line. “But I intend to find out.”

  Zeus’ hallway of blank doors.

  “Do you think...” I stop, swallowing around a suddenly tight throat. “Do you think Zeus has her hidden away here?”

  Her jaw works in wordless rage. “If he does, he’ll have the entirety of Nekros’ power rained down on him.”

  Reaching across the table, I grab her hands. Still her twitching fingers from picking at her skin.

  “I was determined to hate you at the start. The first time I saw you, I hated you.”

  She flinches backward, tugging her hands, but I only tighten my hold until she stills again. Maybe I’ll never forgive her. Not fully. But I can start right now, her hands pressed against mine.

  “But I couldn’t for long. You and Hades—you love each other, don’t you?”

  She nods slowly. “Yes. Completely.”

  I mirror her nod. “If there’s any cause worthy of the sirens’ fall, I suppose you two being disgustingly in love is as worthy as it gets.” I huff, a smile twitching at the corner of my mouth. “I’d do the same for Desma or Charon.”

  She tilts her head, smile blossoming even as it turns sly. “So, you and Charon.”

  Heat creeps across my cheeks.

  She leans back, laughing until her breaths come in heaving gasps. By the time she settles, laugh trailing into helpless giggles, I’m outright grinning. Oh, there’s still the gnawing doubts and fears, but for now I forget them.

  “You and Hades.” I smirk. “Isn’t he your uncle?”

  She grimaces. “Sometimes I wonder how the Prasinos stories can relate us all to Zeus. Demeter, Hestia, and Hera are in no way Zeus’ sisters. Hades isn’t my uncle.” Her nose wrinkles. “Ugh.”

  “They treat the Titans much the same.” I shrug, letting go of her hands to lean back. Cosmas wasn’t the only storyteller in Kyma but certainly the kindest in his renditions. “And Hades is the most foul of the three brothers according to the stories.”

  “Not your stories?”

  I shake my head. “My aunt remembers true history, not some convoluted family tree created by those with overactive imaginations.”

  “What are your stories about him?”

  “There’s only a handful of mentions.”

  Her smile dims.

  “You miss him,” I wonder aloud. “Why? He’s in the palace.”

  She sighs. “Zeus is sequestering Poseidon and my husband away. Scheming something, no doubt.”

  Of course he is; he has to know I won’t quit despite my ruined bargain. For all his gregarious, booming veneer, he’s clever beneath. Besides, I’m still here. This alone tells him I have a plan of my own.

  “Any idea what?” I ask.

  “No.” She frowns. “Between Zeus and my mother interfering, we're never alone together.”

  The gods play tricks. Charon’s words from our time on the river Styx.

  She frowns at my sudden grin. “What?”

  “How do you feel about a bargain between us?” I lean closer, voice dropping to a whisper. “Just us.”

  She squints. “You have a plan.”

  One Zeus can’t interfere with, not with bargains out of his rule per Titan law.

  I nod, settling into a smirk.

  The gods may play tricks.

  But they forget creatures can too.

  Chapter 33

  “I’LL FIND HIM,” HERMES says. “He has to be here somewhere.”

  He flutters away in a flurry of winged sandals and scarlet tunic.

  What if Thanatos isn’t lingering in the palace? I called his name, but he didn’t appear no matter how long I waited. Nyx could be keeping him busy. She could be punishing him.

  His bruises, mottled purple and green. How deep her beating must have been to leave marks despite his godly healing. I shiver, chest tight.

  Waiting. Hoping.

  Beating wings. Hermes zooms back into the room. He skids to a stop...alone.

  Breathless, my words come in a rasp. “Where is he?”

  A cold hand drops onto my shoulder. I jump, stumble forward, and yelp in the span of a second.

  Thanatos cackles, strutting until we face each other. I frown, a hand against my pounding heart. Gust a breath. His distinctive smell of ash invades my nose. I breathe through my mouth instead.

  He grins, unrepentant. “Admit it, you missed me.”


  “I did not,” I snap.

  He raises a hand, fingers pinched a hair apart. “Not even a little?”

  I sigh, heart returning to its normal rhythm. “If I say yes, will you stop trying to scare me at every opportunity?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Then no.”

  Hermes’ head pivots between us. He backs toward the open door, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll leave now.”

  “No.”

  “Yes,” Thanatos says at the same time.

  We stare at each other, both of our brows furrowed. Finally, I speak. “Stay if you want, Hermes.”

  He does, though he closes the door. The silence is deafening.

  “Aren’t you guys going to talk?” Hermes asks.

  Hands on my hips, I groan. “I’m working up to it.”

  “Go on, little siren,” Thanatos says with an imperious wave of his hand.

  I’m tempted to call him little god but stifle the urge. “Can I ask you for a favor.”

  “I’m sorry, was that a question?” He glares.

  “You’re terrible.” And there’s no fondness in my tone. There’s not.

  A wicked grin. “Go on.”

  “And,” I say between clenched teeth. “Can I ask you for a favor?”

  Pure smugness slides across his angular face. “No bargains, of course. Death doesn’t deal in bargains.”

  “But you deal in favors?” Hermes asks, squinting.

  We both look at him. I try to shoot every bit of my growing irritation his way. He backs away, biting his bottom lip to hide a smile.

  Thanatos clears his throat. “Consider me intrigued. What’s this favor?”

  “When I bargain with Zeus again, I’ll be following a Titan law. One stating I use a judge to assure Zeus bargains fairly.”

  “And?”

  “I need an unbiased judge, one willing to favor neither me or Zeus.”

  He blinks. Confusion clouds his sharp expression.

  “You!” I throw my hand up, completely done. “You’re death himself. What else but death can be unbiased?”

  He tilts his head, mouth pursed to one side. “I’m not death, it’s just what I control.”

  “But are you not unbiased? You clearly dislike me most of the time. I bet you dislike Zeus, too.”

  He shrugs. “I dislike everyone equally. Call it a quirk.”

  “Right.”

  I stare at him, expectant.

  Head tilted, he simply blinks back.

  “So?”

  “So what?”

  “Will you be the judge for my bargain with Zeus?” Jaw clenched; it’s a trial to sound civil.

  His grin widens. I wasn’t as successful as I thought.

  “There we go!” Smirking, he continues. “What’s in it for me?”

  “What do you want? Gold?”

  He snorts. “I don’t need Charon’s gold, thanks.”

  My mouth snaps closed. How did he know?

  “You two are obvious. Just be lucky Zeus is dumber than a sheaf of wheat and hasn’t noticed yet.”

  “What do you want?”

  He presses a finger to his bottom lip, thinking.

  Sweat slithers down my spine. My fingers twitch with the need to rearrange a vase of wilting flowers nearby. I tuck my hands into the folds of my dress, willing them still.

  There’s nothing else to offer him.

  “Well.” He pauses for an eternity. “You did ask for a favor. And I suppose favors don’t need payment.”

  A sharp inhale; me or Hermes?

  “Besides, it’ll be fun to watch if nothing else—Zeus throwing everything your way and you floundering through it.”

  Hermes laughs, covering it with a cough when I scowl at him.

  “So you’ll be our judge?”

  I have to ask. I have to be sure.

  “I just said I would.”

  “Did you?”

  “Okay, sarcasm siren, this is me saying I’ll be the judge for your bargain.”

  I should throw my hands up in excitement. But when I do, it’s from pure exasperation. Not for the first time, I want to pull his white-blond hair out at the roots. Or I could make him honk like a goose with my song.

  “You don’t seem very excited.”

  “You’re infuriating!”

  The ache in my temples turns into a headache. Then it hits. He agreed. Despite my annoyance, a real fondness for him takes root.

  He squashes it mercilessly. “My mother won’t be particularly happy.”

  “She wanted me to bargain with Zeus.”

  He shrugs, gesturing to my necklace. “While under her thumb.”

  He can’t see the fine silver necklace nor its ink-drop jewel. Still, I raise a hand to cover it. Why do I continue to wear it?

  A sense of comfort. The metal is solid against my neck. Worse, I don’t want to lose her help. Thanatos’ help. Yet he’s willing to help me regardless of Nyx’s wishes.

  Perhaps it’s time to get rid of her gift.

  Then it truly hits me: he said yes. Impossibly, I have another chance at a bargain. An actual chance.

  Laughing, I curl my hands over my mouth, biting my knuckles in lieu of screaming.

  “Are you all right?” Thanatos asks.

  I stomp my feet in excitement.

  Thanatos flinches backward.

  Hermes grins, shooting me a wink.

  “I’m okay,” I say, breathless. No, that’s not right. “I’m amazing, fantastic, incredible.”

  The best part? I mean every word. I’ll bargain again. This time, for all of my family instead of only myself. All of them could be winged. Free. Immortal.

  By the fates, there’s so much to do! Bathe, dress, and braid my hair. Practice what I want to say. Pace a groove into the floor.

  Thanatos snorts. “I’ll be off. See you soon, little siren.”

  I wave him away with a gasped thanks. He vanishes in a burst of smog.

  I barely notice how the smoke burns, my mind whirring. How should I lay out my bargain? What dress is best? How should I braid my hair?

  “Hermes!” I shout when he lifts into the air on his winged sandals.

  He startles, flailing. “What?”

  “Can you bring a message to Zeus?” I pace in the space between the two beds. The fire blazing in the hearth flickers with each pass.

  “It’s my job.” At my look, he sheepishly adds. “Of course.”

  After I relay the message, he speeds from the room, door slamming in his wake.

  I pace around the hearth. Too much heat against my clammy skin. Move to pacing in front of the window. The crisp breeze raises goosebumps on my skin.

  I move into the bathroom. Beads of water trickle down the walls. An open urn fills the room with a nauseating sweetness. Sinking into the steaming water minutes later, my mind tumbles in circles. I need to rehearse what I’ll say. Then, when Desma returns, I’ll go over it with her.

  What if she doesn’t return in time? What if she isn’t in the throne room during my bargain? What if Charon isn’t? What if Hera kills me outright? What if Zeus does?

  By the time I don a dress of white silk, I’m gasping for breath.

  I sit on my bed, then Desma’s, then at the table. Each time I sit on my hands. Anything to stop them from twitching.

  Waiting is torture.

  Depending on where all the gods are situated, Hermes might not be back for hours. If Zeus decides to postpone at every opportunity, I’ll be dead from sickness, mortality, or Hera before I bargain.

  I bite at one of my nails until it stings, oozing blood onto my tongue. The copper tang is grounding if nothing else.

  Hermes will be back soon. I have to be sure. If I’m not, my doubts will eat me alive.

  The door slams open, banging against the wall. Desma sprints in before the door swings back.

  I croak her name.

  She stops a few steps away, placing her shaking hands on her knees, and gasps for breath. “Agathe!”
>
  “What?” Urgency hits like a crashing wave. I stand, stomach churning. “What’s happened? Are you okay? Is Charon?”

  She shakes her head. “We’re okay! It’s Hermes.”

  “Is he okay? I shouldn’t have sent him. I should’ve found Zeus myself, I knew it.”

  She grabs my shoulders. “Everyone is fine.” Her fingers dig into my shoulder blades. “It’s time. Zeus has granted you an audience.”

  “An audience!”

  “Immediately, cousin.”

  I dart from beneath her hands. “Immediately!”

  Then I grab a stack of books, the one on top containing the Titan law, and tuck them under my arm. I fiddle with my hair, tucking errant strands back into place.

  Am I forgetting anything? Dress, hair, books. I glance down and curse. Shoes! I forgot to put on shoes! Hopping on one foot, then the other, I tie my sandals on at a record pace.

  The moment I’m done, Desma grabs my hand, opens the door, and pulls me into the hall. With my longer legs, I outpace her to lead in a matter of minutes.

  We turn another corner. My lungs heave for breath but I don’t stop. If Zeus declares me late, there’s no telling when I’ll have another chance. I focus on the floor. Focus on not falling and reopening the scrapes still healing on my knees.

  I crash into someone’s chest. Stumble back, cursing, and look up.

  Charon, his eyebrows raised. “Where are you going?”

  “It’s time!” I grab his hand with the one not holding Desma’s and pull him along.

  He lets himself be dragged. Doesn’t hesitate for a moment, matching our quick stride. Warmth fills me from head to toe.

  “Already?” he asks.

  “Already,” Desma says.

  Chapter 34

  ONE MORE TURN AND I’M in the main hall, throne room in the distance and Desma breathing down my neck.

  Four guards line the wall on each side. Facing forward, covered by metal helmets, there’s nothing to distinguish them from each other.

  Hermes waits inside the doors, barely visible except for his golden curls. He peeks above those gathered and gestures at us.

  Gods dressed in finery trickle through the open doors. I’ll have to shove my way past to get into the room anytime soon. If I wait, I’ll be the last inside.