I look at him incredulously.

“What?”

“Do you see me?” I ask.

“Yes. What—”

“I’m standing. I have no injuries. No gunshot wounds, and you think I had a horrific time? I’m fine.” Although I’m furious that Theris—the real Vordan—is still alive.

“How is my brother?” Riden asks.

“He’s in my brig.”

“Alive?”

“Yes, alive! You think I want a corpse stinking up the place?”

“Thank you, Alosa.”

I wave him off like it’s nothing. “I trust you find your own accommodations satisfying?” I ask when the silence becomes too long.

“I’m on a table.”

“Yes, but it’s the only thing in the room aside from Mandsy’s case of healing supplies. Not a mess in sight. There’s nothing for you to obsess over.”

He laughs. When he’s done, he asks, “What happens now?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. My father and I have some planning to do. The men from your crew who are still alive, I’ll drop off at some port. I can’t let Draxen go free. He clearly won’t let his defeat go, so he’ll remain my prisoner for now. But no harm will come to him or you if I can help it.”

He locks eyes with me. His expression is so grateful, so relieved—you’d think I’d made him king of his own island.

“You saved my life, Riden. I’m simply returning the favor.”

“Is that really all it is?”

“Yes.”

He takes a deep breath. “When we were on that island, I learned so much about you. I accused you before of enchanting me, of toying with my mind. I know now what it really feels like to be under your control. I realized you were being honest with me before, and that what I think—what I feel—has nothing to do with your abilities, but everything to do with you.”

“Riden,” I say, stopping him.

“Yes?”

“You’ve lost a lot of blood, and I’m pretty sure you were dead for a time. Maybe you should take some time to reclaim your strength—and your head—before you say or do anything mad.”

“Like get shot twice?” he asks, relieving the tension in the room.

I laugh. “Yes, like that.”

“Fine, but since I know so much about what you’re capable of, would it hurt if I asked you a question?”

“You may ask.” Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.

“What’s so special about your birth? How did you come to possess the powers of sirens without fully becoming one? You said you’d tell me in exchange for the map. Though I didn’t offer it to you freely, you have it now, and I’d still like to know.”

Riden does know so much about me. He witnessed firsthand all the horrible things I could do to him if I wanted. Yet he still talks to me as though we’re … friends, almost. I don’t mind if he knows more. It’s remarkable that he’s accepting me as it is. Not that I should care whether he does or doesn’t.

“My father followed his section of the map almost nineteen years ago. He wanted to see how far he could get with what he had. He and two ships from his fleet came across an island that had never been charted by any cartographer in Maneria, save the one who made the map to the Isla de Canta long ago.” I know this story by heart. When I was little, I asked my father to tell it to me repeatedly. Now that I’m older, I realize it’s a bit inappropriate for a young girl. But my father has always treated me as though I’m older than I really am.

“What was the island?” Riden asks.

“We do not know its name. Only that it is located on the way to the Isla de Canta. But its name is not important. What’s important is what they found when they reached it.”

“What did they find?”

“A lagoon. A lagoon where beautiful women bathed in the water. Thinking that they’d go and have some fun, several men jumped overboard, including my father. But instead of the women fleeing, screaming to get away, it was the men who shrieked until their heads disappeared below the water’s surface.”

“But your father survived. How?”

I smile, remembering when he told me the story of how he and Draxen took control of the Night Farer. “Don’t interrupt. I’m getting there.”

“Sorry.”

“The siren is a strong creature. Stronger than any single man. When she finds her prey, she grips him by the shoulders and forces him down to the ocean’s bottom, where she has her way with him.”

Riden swallows. “How romantic.”

I cock my head. “Would you say it is any more terrible than the intentions of the men who started for them in the first place?”

Riden is silent at that.

I continue. “A man will struggle and fight to save his life, but the siren will always win. And those sirens who conceive while underwater will give birth to siren children. Always girls, of course. Because sirens are always female.

“My father was grabbed by the most beautiful of them all. Their queen, even, he claims. She, like the others, pulled him down to the ocean’s floor.”

“And?”

“My father struggled at first. He fought with all his might, but it was useless. He knew he was going to die. And so, instead of struggling until the lack of air became too much for him, he decided he would become a partner in what was happening.”

“You mean—”

“Instead of fighting, he returned her embraces and kisses. And for whatever reason, this saved his life. Because she brought him back to the surface. All the way back up onto land. For a child who is conceived by a siren on land will be more human than not.”

“Stars,” Riden says, all other words leaving him.

“My father, and those who stayed aboard the ships, left the island, having gone as far as they possibly could without the other two-thirds of the map, and sailed home. They were permitted to leave due to my father’s encounter with the siren queen. She allowed them to keep their lives instead of sending all her subjects to finish them off.

“My father has returned to that island many times since then. But he’s never seen another siren.”

Riden doesn’t say anything more. He’s too lost in thought, trying to take it all in. Eventually, his eyes close, and I assume he’s asleep. I stare at his closed eyelids. His deep, even breaths. His full lips. He’s a strange man. Strange for having saved me. Strange for fighting so hard to save his awful brother. Strange for not fighting for what he wants—whatever that may be.

I suppose I will have plenty of time to better figure him out in the future.

There’s still one-third of a map that needs finding.