The Sea King's Daughter (14 page)

Still, before the dough went into the oven, a few drops of water fell into it. No one saw but me. Tomorrow, the guests -- and perhaps even the bride and groom -- would swallow my tears with their bread.

I hoped they would taste bitter on Lysander's tongue.

CHAPTER TWENTY

The day of the wedding dawned clear and hot. I had enough pride left to wear my finest tunic and the jewelry Corinna had given me. I wanted to look my best. Maybe Lysander would glance over at me and feel some small twinge of regret. I could barely lift my arms to slip the tunic over my head. I felt as if I dressed  to attend my own funeral.

At Corinna's side, I walked slowly to Athena's temple. Dust swirled about my feet with every step and settled on my sandals. The oppressive heat weighed me down until each step was an effort. But the blazing sun kept no one away. The whole town gathered for the wedding. Phidias waved to me from the crowd. I lifted my hand in greeting, but I could not return his excited grin.

We gathered before the altar and the statue of Athena. The marble statue loomed above even Lysander and his bride. The air of formal ceremony reminded me of Thetis' wedding. Tears came to my eyes, tears of loss. At that moment I missed Thetis so badly I could hardly stand up. Now, after all that had happened, I knew that my sister had not abandoned me. She had only married the man she loved, as I so deeply wished I could do now.  As I would never do, I realized.

Corinna found my hand with her own and gave me a comforting squeeze. I squeezed back. At least I had one ally on Theros. I knew Corinna cared about me. Still, Corinna couldn't hide her joy at seeing her son's wedding ceremony.

Lenaea was radiantly lovely. Lysander's face lit up when he looked at her. How it hurt me to see his expression! He was more handsome than ever. I remembered how he'd looked that first stormy evening. I felt as if years had passed since that night at sea.

A lifetime had passed.

A young boy led in the sacrificial bull. A priestess came forward holding a gleaming blade. I watched as she began the sacrifice. As the bull fell to his knees, as his scarlet blood spilled from the wound in his neck, I could almost feel the knife on my own throat. I gasped for breath and brought my hand to my neck as if I expected my fingers to come away stained with blood. My knees buckled and I saw darkness at the edges of my vision.

Corinna put her arms around my waist. I leaned heavily against her and closed my eyes, unable to watch.

Corinna and the household slaves had transformed the dining room. Long tables groaned under the weight of bread and wine and roasted meat. The room smelled of food and close-packed bodies, some of them none too clean.

Lysander perched on a high couch with his new wife. He hadn't spoken to me since the night I'd crept into his room. Philemon told a bawdy joke, and the crowd roared with laughter. Lenaea blushed. No doubt she was thinking of tonight, their wedding night. The image of the newlyweds lying together made my stomach ache.

I sat in a dark corner, out of sight, drinking from a cup of strong red wine. I was beginning to feel dizzy from the wine; I had never drunk more than a few sips of the watered drink that came with dinner. I wanted to run away to my room, or go outside away from the party, but I couldn't seem to look away from Lysander and his bride. I watched them with a kind of fascinated horror, hoping perhaps for some sign that
Lysander regretted his choice. I saw nothing, nothing but a young couple very much in love. 

The musicians struck up a tune on their hardwood pipes and pan flutes. The old man playing the lyre began to sing. His voice was deep and low and soothing. He sang of a hero, long ago, who had left his homeland in search of adventure. I blinked back tears when the hero returned at last to his wife and son. I could imagine no such happy ending for myself.

"Will you dance with me, Nyx?"

Phidias' eyes were gentle and hopeful, like the eyes of a puppy begging to be picked up. "I will," I said, with a trembling smile.

I stood up and slipped off my sandals. The tile was cool under the soles of my feet. I gave Phidias my hand. He led me to the center of the room. At first I was clumsy, hobbled by the pain in my feet and legs. Pain lanced through my shins and the long bones in my thighs. Every step was like walking on needles. I gulped back the sobs that rose in my throat. Under the sea I had danced with grace and skill, but here on land I felt stiff and clumsy. I worried that all eyes were on me, and that the audience snickered at my efforts.

The wine and the lingering heat combined to blur my vision. My head spun. I closed my eyes. After a time, I felt the music catch me up and whirl me around.  Suddenly it was as if the sea had closed in around me. The water stroked my cheek. It bore me up until I was light as a scrap of seaweed. I swayed with the music, my head thrown back in ecstatic abandon. I danced for Lysander. I danced for Father and Thetis. I danced for everything I'd lost, and everything I could never have.

I no longer felt the least bit of pain. I was somewhere else -- in another world, where nothing could reach me and no one could hurt me. I danced.

The music slowed, then faded. I opened my eyes.

I was alone in the center of the floor. Everyone stared at me, their mouths half open with amazement. Even Lysander couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from me, although his bride clutched his arm and whispered urgently in his ear.

Phidias stepped forward to take my arm. "That was astonishing. Just now -- dancing like that -- you barely looked human." He seemed awed, and there was a fire in his eyes I had never seen before.

Glancing around, I saw his expression mirrored on every face. Already the whispers fluttered around the room. I shook Phidias' hand from my arm and ran. He called my name, but I didn't look back.

I fled down the hall and out onto the patio, then down the winding path. I hadn't paused to slide on my sandals. Sharp stones sliced the soles of my feet. I didn't care -- nothing could make the pain worse. I just wanted to put distance between myself and every human on Theros, especially Lysander.

I made my way down to the beach. I needed time alone, time to think. I found myself on  my favorite rocky spit of land, the promontory that jutting out into the water. The sea nestled right up against the stone and the patchy grass. Here I could get very close to the water, close enough so the brine smell of it stung my nose, without danger from the gently breaking waves.

I threw myself down on the rock and buried my face in my arms.

What was I to do?

My days at the villa were limited. Philemon hated me, I made Lysander uneasy, and Lenaea would always see me as a threat to her happiness.  Her first request, as a new wife, would no doubt have something to do with me. Only Corinna cared for me now, and her pleas might not save me.

Phidias was a kind person and a good friend. He would make a fine husband to some girl of Theros. Yet when I thought of life with him, I couldn't bear it. I did not love Phidias. I  couldn't stand the thought of living in the village, in a house with a floor  of  bare earth. I would look out each morning at the villa on  the hill. My hands would grow rough with work. My back would ache as badly as my legs.

Lenaea would  parade through the market square each day in her fine dresses and her gold jewelry, and I -- King Nereus' daughter -- would stand in the dust and watch her pass. Lysander would come to visit Phidias, sometimes, or I would see him on the beach loading his ships. I would see his clear brow, his dark eyes, the smile that melted my knees, and I would hate him.

I wished I'd never seen Lysander, never met the sea sorceress, never drunk her vile potion. I wished I'd never left the sea. I wanted to rest my head on Father's shoulder or ask Thetis to massage my caudal fin. I even yearned to go into the tower room again and sit listening to the familiar music of chatter and gossip and idle bickering.

It was too late. I'd made my choice.

I'd given up my beautiful star-scaled tail. In its place I had a pair of ugly human legs that never ceased to cause me pain. The sea was poison to me now. Its waters could scald the skin from my bones.

I lifted my head. Was that the answer?

I stood up. Half a dozen baby steps took me to the smooth, flat rock on the edge of the water. In the evening light, the sea shone like a plate of polished silver -- so lovely, so harmless in appearance, so deliciously tempting. I could see all the way down to the sandy bottom. Even a foot from the rocks, the water stood deeper than I was tall.

Without thinking, I rubbed the place on my arm where Lysander had touched  me that day with his wet fingers. The burns had become shiny, salmon-colored patches of new skin, then faded away. Only the faintest of scars remained.

If I threw myself into the sea, would it hurt? Would I feel pain first, or would I simply slip under the water and disappear?

The sea could wash away all the disappointment. It could take away the anger, the despair, and the constant ache of loss I'd felt ever since Lysander said he didn't love me. It could do all that, if only I were brave enough.

Did I have the courage to take that final step?

I would count to three in my head. Then I would find out.

One.

I inched forward on the rock until my toes lined up with the edge closest to the sea. My torn feet left dark smudges of blood on the stone. I clamped my eyes shut.

Two.

I took a breath of air and held it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

A voice called my name. Father's voice.

The surprise of it almost sent me toppling into the water. I flailed my arms, caught my balance, and managed to straighten up again. Father stood in the waves less than two tail-lengths from the shore. He clutched a spear tipped with razor-sharp iron. With his beard streaming and his hair plastered to his head he looked like Poseidon himself. His gills flapped as the water emptied from his lungs. If he hadn't boasted such a dear, familiar face, his fierce expression might have frightened me.

"Father!" I cried. He swam closer . Water still trickled from his beard and glistened on his skin in the failing light. I wanted nothing more than the chance to fall into his arms, but I forced myself to take a step back. "If only I could touch you, Father. If only you could hold me."

"I will, Nyx, soon enough."

While I puzzled over Father's words, Thetis bobbed up behind him. Grandmother surfaced near her, and then my other sisters -- Ino, Galatea, Nysa, and Amphitrite. My whole family had come to see me. Thetis was crying. Grandmother's face bore a strange, tight expression. Even Galatea looked grim.

There was something different about all of them. It took a moment to sink in. I gasped. "What have you done to your hair, your beautiful hair?"

Thetis raised her hand and touched her shorn locks. Her dark curls had once fallen to her waist in a glorious tangle. Now I could see her pale scalp through the short, wispy spikes that remained. All of my sisters, and my grandmother, too, were similarly shorn.

"It's nothing, Nyx," Thetis said. I couldn't tell whether the glistening beads on her face were seawater or tears. "It was necessary for the spell. We would have done anything to get you back."

I fell to my knees on the rock. "Get me back? But -- but I can't ever come back to the sea. Don't you know I'd give anything -- do anything -- if I could? The sea sorceress said I could never --"

My grandmother broke in. "She found a way."

Father nodded. "I couldn't bear to lose you, Nyx. When you disappeared --"

"He turned the kingdom upside down," Grandmother said.

"The sea sorceress told us everything," Thetis added.

I frowned. "You went to her?"

"Yes," Father said, "yes, I went to the sea sorceress. I begged, pleaded, and bargained until she agreed to help us. In the end, I promised her a full pardon and a house of her own near the palace. Little enough, after all. I'd have given her my kingdom if she'd asked."

There was just one more thing I didn't understand. "Why? Why would you do all this, when I'm not even your child?"

Father's face crumpled. "I'm sorry you had to hear that old story from a stranger."

"Is it true? Everything she told me?"

He lifted his head and looked at me with eyes that burned bright as the sun. "I didn't tell you because it doesn't matter. You may not be the child of my body, but you're the
daughter of my heart, Nyx. I love you. I couldn't possibly love you more. Don't you know that?"

Slowly, I nodded. I did know it. I had only forgotten.

"You'll never know how much I missed you, Nyx," Father said. "We all did. Now it's time for you to come home."

Home. The word spread warm fingers of contentment through my body. Home, Father's palace under the sea, with my family gathered around me. Home, where I was a princess again, not a stranger without a name. Home, where Lysander was nothing but a distant ache, a long-ago sorrow nearly forgotten.

"Yes," I said. "Please, Father, I do want to come home."

"You shall, child, I promise. There is just one thing you must do. One small sacrifice." He brought his hand up from under the water. A slim iron knife glinted in the sun. He laid it on the stone to dry.