“How did you know?” I asked. “You told me I look like him, but I look far less like him than my sister. What made you know for certainIwas his daughter?”
“I’d heard Zellia took after him. Your father always said your face was straight from your mother. And he loved you dearly for it. All of you.”
My stomach grew raw at the mention of my mother and sister.
He knew their names?
“And I knew because you haven’t changed all that much since you were a child, Sidra. You probably don’t remember me from your visit when you were young, but do you remember this place? Well, you probably don’t remember the shop, it has had some remodeling since then, and well, you weren’t interested in the glass that had already been blown. You wanted to be in the back with your father and me, right in the heart of it all.”
“The workshop,” I murmured, half to myself, half to him.
“Ahh, so it’s coming back to you. Now, will you lock that door and let me reignite those memories of yours? I too would like to speak of my son and his love for this place.”
No words found me, but my fingers did find the lock on the door. I did as he asked and flipped the “open” sign over for good measure. When I turned around to face him, he was already on his way to the back. I maneuvered behind his counter and followed him to the workshop.
There were pieces, both finished and unfinished, scattered across a large metal table shoved at the back of the room. To the left of me, there was a cumbersome brick oven that had flickering embers still heating up the space, as if he had just finished up his work for the day. Windows lined one wall, letting in natural light that reflected off the metal shelves holding glistening art.
“When your father told me of his decision to return to the sea for good, I knew it was a mistake. His heart was too soft for the deep. He belonged here on land, but the three hearts that beat outside his chest belonged to the sea.” He released a wobbly breath, picking up a palm sized piece of glass that had been sitting on a fire-scorched wooden table.
“You wanted him to choose the side of the humans?” It was hard to pay any mind to his workshop when this man was telling me my father had the soul of a human, that he belonged with them. The sharp pain in my chest wouldn’t be mended by the distraction of melted glass, not this time.
“There’s no ‘human side’ and ‘siren side’. If you think that’s the case, you don’t know much of this war.” The older man grimaced. He smoothed a rough thumb over the glass in his hand mindlessly as he brought his gaze up to meet mine.
I gritted my teeth,disappointment creeping through my chest like a poison as I said, “Most of what I know about this war is from my father. Are you calling him a liar?”
“Sidven wasn’t a liar, but he did want you to remain in the sea. He didn’t want his pain to pass to you.”
“His pain?” I asked, wishing I had something to fiddle with as he had. In the sea, I would use smooth, thumb-sized stones. I’d picked up the nervous habit from my father, and it was clear who he’d picked it up from.
“Yes, the tear of the soul that comes with being of two worlds. If you stayed in the sea, fearing land, then you would never go through what he did.”
“What, so you’re trying to tell me he brought me here as a child as a warning? Told me stories just to spook me? I think you’re forgetting that I live inside a ship we sunk during the war. I have lost half of my pod. Losthim,” I said, anger pricking at my waterline.
“I’m not saying the war doesn’t exist. I’m saying it’s not what you thought it was. But I didn’t want to get into all of that now. I can see I’m upsetting you, and I never meant to do that,” he said, holding the piece of glass out to me. I took the smoothed oval, warmed by his hand, without a word. “I simply wanted to show you a familiar place. A place he loved. I hoped that you could learn to love it too, like you used to.”
The clock struck four, and those four simple tunes filled me with an assortment of conflicting emotions.
Was I torn leaving this man, this hazily familiar place, and the answers I knew he held close to his chest?
Sadness was an emotion I reserved solely for my father, and here I was, spending it on someone else.
“I have to go,” I whispered. “I have someone I need to meet.”
“And here I wasted precious time talking about something so off putting. I’m sorry, Sidra. Won’t you stay a little longer? I can make some tea and fix up some sandwiches for a late lunch. How does that sound? I have plenty of happy stories about Sidven.” The crease between his eyes deepened.
“She’ll be waiting for me, and I can’t be late, or she’ll worry.” I knew Breena would think I abandoned her if I got there much past four o’clock. I was the one who told her not to be late, after all.
“I understand. Here, take this,” he said, plopping a pouch of coins into the same hand as the worrying glass. “I’m not sure how you’ve been getting by, but I have a feeling it’s not legal.”
I took the coin pouch from him with a sideways smile and a one shoulder shrug before saying, “Thank you.”
“Just do me a favor, will you?” he asked as I turned for the door. I stopped in my tracks and peered over my shoulder at the older man. “Come back and see me tomorrow?”
CHAPTER NINE
THE MEAD MISHAP
“What did you find?” I asked. My back was pressed up against the stone clock tower as I watched Breena walk down the cobblestone path toward me. Her hands were behind her back, holding something I couldn’t see. I hadn’t seen her most of the day, and as she approached, an unusual feeling snaked through my body. This feeling was far too similar to excitement for my liking, and I didn’t know what to make of such a thing.
