“Then how does it work?”

“I’ll tell you. Just please hand over the map, Riden.”

“Sorry, Alosa.”

“Fine. I’ll get it out of you. But I’ll have you know I loathe doing this.” I reach down to that unnatural part of me. Suddenly, I’m uncomfortable in my own skin. Goose bumps rise on my arms and legs. My hair seems to stand on edge. Mentally, it’s exhausting to be so aware of everything around me.

“You’re doing that thing again,” he says. “You’ve changed.”

I’ve never had anyone be able to detect the change in me before. Not even my own father can tell, so how can Riden?

“I’m tapping into the part of me that comes from my mother. I hate using it. Feels awful and unnatural.”

“Does it give you the ability to read my mind?”

“No, I can only tell what you’re feeling.”

This seems to give him great alarm. His emotions turn from a glowing, vibrant red to light gray almost instantly.

Gray is an interesting color. When it’s the dark gray of storm clouds, the emotion is tied to guilt. In a lighter hue, the emotion is grief.

A deep sadness has come over Riden. But the change is so immediate, it causes me to believe he’s thinking about something extremely sad to him on purpose so I can’t get anything else out of him.

“Are you thinking sad thoughts on purpose?” I ask.

“It’s terrifying that you know what I’m thinking.”

“Not thinking. I don’t know why you’re sad. Only that you’re thinking about something that causes you grief.”

Now I need to play on his fear. His fear of me finding the map. He won’t have hidden it on his person. He had to have known I would search him for it. He’ll have hidden it somewhere on the ship. I’ll have to gauge his fear if I’m to find it.

I start moving about the ship, but I keep him talking as I do. “How did you figure out that I’m … different?” I ask as I walk to the starboard side of the ship. I’m near the entrance that leads belowdecks. The men laugh and talk loudly. They’d have to be for me to hear it from up here. Probably grateful for some downtime.

“That time I woke up and couldn’t remember what happened before I passed out. At first I assumed you knocked me out, but I couldn’t remember any sort of a struggle. In fact, I remember something quite the opposite.”

I smile to myself. Yes, that was a fun night.

Riden’s still trying to mask something with his deep sense of grief. If I were to guess, I’d say he’s thinking about his father’s death. But there are flares of red that shine through as he talks to me. Particularly when he mentioned that night.

“But then there was that day when you changed. It was like you were someone completely different. You weren’t putting up a fight. You weren’t talking like you usually do. It was … unnerving. I swear, you looked different, too. If I squinted, I could see a faint haze of light around you.”

That, he imagined. There is no physical difference when I alter my actions and words—when I call up the siren.

“I’ve known about my father’s map since I was a little boy,” he continues. “I know about sirens, even if I don’t understand them completely. I put my limited knowledge together with what I knew of you and your father. It wasn’t a hard connection to make. I had my suspicions long before tonight—before you sang to me.”

I’m only getting flickers of heat amidst his sadness. No fear. The map can’t be over here. I start toward the upper deck.

Riden follows at a safe distance. “Why can’t you make me tell you where it is? You made me sleep, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I put you to sleep. Twice. But I exhausted my”—I don’t want to call them powers; that sounds strange—“abilities. That’s why I couldn’t put you to sleep deeply the second time. I’m all out.”

“And how do you get them back?”

“The sea. She gives me strength. The closer I am to her, the stronger I am.”

The map’s not up here. I stride back down the companionway and head for the bow of the ship.

“What else can you do? Besides put people to sleep?” Riden steps back, almost like he’s afraid to touch me, when I pass him on my way to the other end of the ship.

I can make men see things that are not there. I can put thoughts in their heads. I can make them promises they’ll believe. I can get them to do anything I want. All I have to do is sing. I’m not sure I should tell him any of this, though. Even if I do believe my father will capture this ship soon.

“If I choose to, I can feel what men want. I know their every desire. And I use that to get what I want. It’s something I can turn off and on at will.” And lose myself in, if I go too far.

Riden freezes at that. Wait, no. There’s a flash of black. Of fear. I stop where I am and look around. I passed the center of the ship, where the mainmast extends into the air.

“Is that why you act the way you do?” he asks. I think he’s trying to distract me.

I take a few steps toward Riden, back toward the mainmast. “What do you mean?”

“The whole time you’ve been on this ship. Everything you’ve said and done. Have you been reading me? Giving me what I want? Is that why I feel the need to protect you? Or did you get in my head? Force me to feel things I’ve never felt before?”

That stops me short. “Riden, the only thing I’ve ever made you do is sleep. I have not played with your mind or acted a certain way to toy with you. I only used that on Draxen once to try to find the map. Whatever it is you think and feel—it comes from you. I didn’t do anything.”

The light around him turns blue.

“You’re confused,” I say. “Why?”

He narrows his eyes. “Because I don’t understand you. And I don’t know what to believe.”

“You can choose to believe what you wish, but I speak the truth. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a map to find.” I look upward. “The crow’s nest, eh?” I ask. That must be where Riden’s hidden it.

Riden cocks his head at something behind me. “What are you doing up here?”

I was so focused on Riden’s reaction to my moving about the ship, I didn’t realize someone was coming up behind me. I’m about to turn when I feel a sharp pain at the back of my head and fall into darkness.