The chants began, melodic and haunting, as more priestesses entered the space, and the water in the bowls before us turned crystalline with magic.
“Dream weaving is an art sacred to the Sirens and not to be taken lightly.” Peisinoe raised her palms as she stepped between Finn and me on the stairs leading to the pools. The priestesses continued to chant inthe background. “The Shadow haunts our people, and we ask Agápe, the Goddess of Love, to bless us with dreams of what we desire most.” She turned to the statue of the Siren goddess and bowed her head. Her priestesses also bowed.
Tendrils of mist rose from the basins and twisted around Finn and me as whispers echoed through the space—memories not yet lived, emotions not yet felt, the dreams and desires of those who had come before us.
The chanting swelled as the two Mer priestesses drifted up behind us again. I lifted my chin to meet Finn’s dark eyes. His hands gripped the edges of the basin, knuckles white with tension. He wore no breastplate, just the silver bracers on his wrists. The new heart-shaped tattoo in the center of his chest burned with a silver light.
A chill prickled my skin as I replayed everything that had passed between us. I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to focus. Soon, I’d have my dream—and never have to see him again.
I dragged my gaze to the swirling, crystalline water in the stone basin before me, and magical whisps continued to rise from it as my hair spilled over my face, its ends dancing on the surface of the pool.
“Let your desires fill you,” Peisinoe commanded as she stood before us on the dais. “Feel them in every inch of your bones.”
I want to find the prophecy and save the ocean—for my grandmother and the Captain.
I repeated the mantra, eyes squeezed shut, clearing my mind until only that single desire remained.
“When you can feel your desires radiating through every inch of you, dip your face into the pool to sleep and see your dreams.”
I drew my eyes from the basin to glance at Finn. His gaze wasalready on me, burning with a dark intensity. I bit the inside of my cheek, looking back at the crystal water. Exhaling, I immersed my face.
I was met with a breathtaking prism of fractured lights and colors. It was so intense and beautiful that my tears streamed like rivers into the pool. The lovely lights dissolved around me, and I floated above a ship on a stormy sea. I held my hands before my face, but they were invisible. I tried to move, but I remained anchored, gazing down at the ship below as the ocean tossed it to and fro. This was where my dream had led me.
The ship was long and wooden, with oars lining each side. I recognized it from my previous vision. Manannán.
I forced down the lump in my throat. Lightning forked through the sky, and the dark waves tossed the boat as they crashed across its deck.
“The Atlantic is angry,” a sailor yelled, pulling at one of the oars.
“This is the work of Poseidon!” cried Manannán, the Minoan man, who was also rowing furiously. Rain plastered dark hair across his bronzed face, and his olive eyes were pinched with fear.
“Father.” The young boy, whom I recognized as his son from the previous visions, clung to the mast as the boiling waves tossed the boat.
“Hold on, and don’t let go!” The color drained from Manannán’s face as an inky wave swelled until it loomed above the ship.
An ominous weight settled over me. More waves rose behind the first, towering and merciless, the work of the gods, just as Manannán had warned. They crashed against the vessel, shattering it as Manannán rushed to the mast, scooping his terrified son into his arms. Wave after wave pounded the ship until it vanished beneath the surface, leaving behind only splintered wood and the screams of drowning men.
A sob escaped my lips, tears streaming down my cheeks as I hovered above the scene, helpless to do anything but watch.
“Papa,” Manannán’s son screamed as the waves tore him from his father’s chest.
“It will be okay, son, I promise,” Manannán cried, battling against the current pulling them farther apart. Tears streaked down his face as his son let out one final, terrified cry before being dragged beneath the heaving sea.
A heart-wrenching wail left the sailor’s mouth, and I sobbed alongside him.
“Poseidon, you beast!” He hurled the words like a weapon, lifting his face to the heavens as the waves continued to roil around him. His crew, son, and all but a few splinters of wood had vanished beneath them.
A booming voice echoed across the ocean, carried on the tides. “You are a great sailor and lover of the seas, Manannán.”
I knew it was the voice of Poseidon.
“I will never forgive you for this, or the seas.” Manannán spat the words into the churning water, clutching a piece of wood to keep himself afloat.
“As the civilizations of man thrive, more humans drown. We sea gods are above ruling over such a powerless race. I want you to rule the Kingdom of the Drowned.”
“Never.” Fire filled Manannán’s eyes as he hissed the word.
Poseidon’s long, slow laugh reverberated across the waves, and thunder rolled behind it. “I am giving you a choice: rule over the Kingdom of the Drowned as a god and see your son provided a peaceful afterlife, or die here now and condemn both of you to a life of purgatory under the sea.”
