“You’re a god.”
He pales.
“Stop lying to me,” I practically shout, holding up our linked fists between us like a threat, a defiance. “Do you think I’m such a fool that I can’t see? You’rethegod. Okeanos of the Sea.”
He almost drops my hand, but I won’t let him. He must not think he can turn me aside.
He shakes his head, but it’s not denial of who he is. It’s a defensive thing, like he’s denying the underlying accusation—that this is his fault. That my dead are laid on his deck.
“Okeanos demanded human sacrifices.” I fling the words at him. “And they gave them. And that was not enough. Still he sent his forces to mete out punishment.”
He’s a very good liar. His shock looks genuine.
“What?” He sounds breathless, as if he cannot bear to hear my answer when he asks, “Who told you this?”
“Turbote told me,” I say. “I am certain it is true.”
He’s shaking his head. “It is not so. I can tell you now that it isn’t.”
He tries to take a step backward, but I step forward with him, keeping him close, not letting him distance himself from his guilt.
“I believe Turbote’s words to me. Gods do as they please. They spare no pity. And the God of the Sea did this to my people.” I’m choking on my own words, filled with a mixture of grief and fury that overwhelms me. “Youdid it.Youhad no pity on them, just as you had no pity on me. No pity on Lieve. You tried to make me trust you! You tried to make me fall in love with you.”
He flinches back as if from a blow, but this time it is him who doesn’t release my hand and I can’t shake his grip free. He uses it to reel me toward him, until his face is inches from mine and I can read every twitch in it.
“All will be well, Coralys,” he says intently. “I will make it well again.”
Another lie. He cannot fix what has been broken.
I sob silently, bowing into our tangled fists, biting my own knuckle to keep from making a sound. These are not tears of sadness. They’re angry, furious, helpless tears steeped in hatred. I’m scared. I’m so scared of being helpless. I’m so scared that if I don’t reef in my sails, I will give myself away. It takes me several breaths before I manage to gather control of myself again.
“All will not be well,” I tell him grimly, wrenching myself from his embrace. “Because you have made it unwell, and you cannot stitch back together what has been broken.”
“Cora.” His hollow voice sounds like I’ve landed a blow to him, but I don’t see how when I’ve spoken only the truth.
I point a shaking finger at him. “And you are who I hold responsible now. Not gods in some vague sense butyou. Tell me you are not Okeanos. Tell me you are not the God of the Sea.”
He flinches and that’s just fine with me. He’s shaking his head, his wet hair limned by moonlight. He is tight as a sail line.
“This is not the time,” he says, and his eyes are desperate. “I must go. I don’t have time for this.”
“You don’t have time? What will you do? Fish?” I scoff, shaking my head. “You said we wanted the same thing. You said we wanted to save our people. Are you not my people’s god?”
He’s trembling slightly now, too. Perhaps he is as angry with me as I am with him. Have I angered a god? He has not yet admitted it and I don’t think he will.
“That’s why I must go, Coralys. And right now. I have not time to spare in dealing with you.”
It feels like a slap, but he’s right. My people are more important. We will deal with his guilt after he mitigates his failure.
“Are you going to rescue the survivors and bring them here?”
“No. I am not. And you must not, either. You barely survived your foray into that burning city today. Don’t be a fool by going back. I will discover who these enemies of your people are. You stay here. Allow no one on our island. I will return.”
He takes a step toward the sea, but I am vibrating with frustration.
“Discover?” I ask in a shuddering breath. “I am not asking for an investigation. I am asking that you go back and you save them like you saved me.” My voice grows hard. “Or that you die trying.”
Lieve died trying. And Okeanos did not spare him. I should not feel ashamed for holding him to the same standard.
