Of Neptune (The Syrena Legacy) (8 page)

“Please. Call me Reder,” Mr. Conway says, oozing hospitality. “And you’re right, of course. The laws of the ocean dwellers don’t concern me. I’m just curious. What brings you to our neck of the woods? We haven’t been visited by your kind for quite some time.”

I wonder how old Reder is—and if my grandfather is the last “visitor” he’s speaking of. Surely there aren’t many dirty little law breakers among the ocean Syrena?

“Our way of life is very different from yours,” Galen says. “We still have a healthy fear of humans. Which is why I’ve been appointed as an ambassador to them. I’ve been assigned to watch them and to report back to the kingdoms.”

Since when did Galen fear humans? And is he trying to offend our host? “Galen has made some valuable human contacts,” I blurt. “People who help him watch the human world. But he knows that not all humans are bad.”

Under the table Galen grabs my knee. If he’s trying to shut me up, it won’t work. He does know that all humans aren’t bad.
Doesn’t he?

Mr. Conway crosses his massive arms. It’s a good intimidation move. Galen appears unimpressed. “And what will you be reporting about us, Galen?”

Galen smiles. “So far? That Mrs. Conway has a talent for making freshwater trout actually taste good.”

Mr. Conway is about to parry, but Toby, oblivious to the tension, slurps the rest of his buttermilk and near slams it on the table. “Galen, Reed says you have the biggest fin he’s ever seen.”

Galen smirks at Reed, then nods his head toward him ever so slightly. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

Reed responds with a scowl.

I can tell that Toby was really asking a question instead of making a statement, and Galen probably realizes this, too, but he’s not budging on any insights into why he’d have a ginormous fin. Of course.

Toby gives up on Galen and turns to me. “Emma, Reed says you have the Gift of Poseidon, too.”

“Too?” I ask, glancing at Reed. So he really was bonding with the fish in the cave. Poseidon-style.

The older brother offers me his carefree grin, only one corner of his mouth bothering to rise. “Toby and I both have the Gift,” Reed says.

Okay, didn’t see that coming. “Really?” I squeak. “So that means … Are you both descendants of Poseidon?” Because that’s the only way they could have the Gift.

“There are many descendants of Poseidon living here, Emma,” Mr. Conway says, all the strain gone from his voice. Neptune has now become my personal jackpot. “You see, long ago—”

“Ugh! Not that story again,” Toby grunts.

Mrs. Conway laughs. “Toby, don’t interrupt your father.”

Toby rests his elbow on the table and plops his chin in his hand. “But, Mom, it’s such a boring story, and Dad draws it out forever.” Toby has a slight problem pronouncing his
r
’s, which makes “forever” sound like
fowevew.
Might be the most angelic thing I’ve ever heard.

“Our heritage is not boring,” Reed corrects.

“I’d have to agree,” Galen says. “I would love to hear the story.” He locks eyes with Mr. Conway.

Mr. Conway gives a small smile, then stands abruptly. “Maybe another time. Obviously, I need to brush up on my storytelling skills.” He takes his empty plate, stacking his silverware on top. Before he exits to the kitchen, he calls over his shoulder. “But if you want to be entertained, you could ask Reed why he refuses to use his Gift.”

“Oh, nice Dad,” Reed says, sinking in his seat.

Toby snorts beside him. “He thinks it’s cheating. Unbelievable, right?”

What’s unbelievable is that I’m really having this conversation. With Half-Breeds like me. Half-Breeds who have the Gift of Poseidon.
Like me
. “Cheating?” I ask, trying my hand at low-key.

Reed rolls his eyes in surrender. “It
is
cheating. It gives me an advantage over other fishermen. An advantage I don’t need. Besides, it’s not like it’s my
job
to fish.”

I raise a brow. “But it’s not cheating to lure fish to your rope of death?”

“That’s a matter of eating, which is what the Gift is for, right? I’m talking about competitions. I can handle a pole just as well as any of them.”

Toby shakes his head at me. “He wishes.”

Reed pulls his little brother into a headlock. “Take it back!”

“Oh, here we go,” Mrs. Conway says, leaning an elbow onto the table in mock boredom.

A small scuffle ensues, which results in both brothers sprawled on the floor, and Toby still in a headlock, though in possession of some of Reed’s elbow skin between his teeth. Even Galen appears amused. I wonder if—and don’t doubt that—he’s been in this same position with Rayna.

“I won’t take it back!” Toby growls, but his tenacity is markedly reduced by his uncontrollable giggles.

“You don’t even know who the better fisherman is,” Reed says, releasing his brother. He looks at me, brushing imaginary dust off his shirt. “He won’t fish without using the Gift.”

“Why would I?” Toby takes his chair again. “I’ve won every fishing tournament I’ve ever entered. Got the trophies to prove it.”

Mrs. Conway nearly spits out her wine. “You told me—you
promised
me—you wouldn’t use the Gift for those tournaments, Toby Travis Conway. You’re in serious trouble, young man.”

“Aw crap,” Toby says. “I just got un-grounded yesterday.”

“Welcome back. Go to your room. And we don’t say ‘crap.’” Mrs. Conway’s brow furrows in that kind of betrayed-mother disapproval. It’s a look I know well.

“Do we say ‘crud?’” Toby asks.

Mrs. Conway considers. “I suppose ‘crud’ is okay.”

“Hey! You didn’t let me say ‘crud’ when I was his age,” Reed protests.

“No saying ‘crud’ then, Toby Travis.” Mrs. Conway is an experienced rebounder.

“Thanks a lot, Reed,” Toby grumbles as he passes his brother.

“Hey, you brought it up,” Reed says. “I’ll bring you up some dessert later.”

“You most certainly will not,” Mrs. Conway snips, standing. She collects as many plates around her as she can. “You boys are going to be the death of me. Wrestling on the floor like cavemen in front of our guests.” She’s muttering to herself about fishing trophies when she vanishes into the kitchen.

“It seems we’ve run everyone off,” Galen says. And he seems more jubilant about it than strictly polite. “We should probably be going.”

“So soon?” Reed says, but he’s not looking at Galen. Reed has a way of making me feel like the only person in the room.

I glance sideways at Galen. His face shows no expression at all. He’s turning into Grom in front of my eyes. And I don’t like it.

Galen stands. “We’ve traveled a lot today,” he says, turning to me. “I think we should call it a night.”

I wonder what he would say if I said I wasn’t tired. If I said he could go back to the inn, and Reed would bring me home later. I mentally cross that thought out of my head. I would never do that. It would be childish, and it would hurt him if he knew I’d even considered it for a shaved second.

What has gotten into me?

I take a stab at faking a yawn. It turns out just as I expected: dramatic. “I am pretty tired,” I say as an understatement. Then a real yawn takes over, a really obnoxious one, and Galen and Reed share the same expression as they stare at me.

Maybe calling it a night isn’t such a bad idea. After all, I have a lot of information to take in, process, and then dump in order to fit in more info tomorrow. I wonder how many mind-boggling facts a person can handle at one time. I have to have set some sort of record already.

Reed walks us to the car and watches us leave with his hands shoved in his pockets. His expression is full of all sorts of doubt.

*   *   *

The car ride back to Sylvia’s is thick with silence. The way the air gets thick and humid right before a storm rolls in. It gets sticky and heavy and suffocating. Galen walks me to my room, and I motion for him to come inside. He hesitates. It’s then that I realize he’s holding something back. Something bigger than what happened at dinner.

“What’s wrong?” I say.

He still doesn’t come in. By this time, I’m already throwing my purse on the bed. He’s acting like a complete stranger, and it’s setting me on edge. “You’re not coming in?”

Leaning against the frame, he sighs. “I want to come in. You know I do. But … I just feel that before we go further, we should talk.”

“Further? Into what?” I peel off my ballet flats. The carpet is high and feels luxurious between my toes. Or maybe the carpet is average, and I’m trying to distract myself from looking at Galen’s troubled expression.

He shuts the door behind him but doesn’t come any closer. “Further into our plans, I guess.”

“Plans?”
Plans?
When a guy says plans, he’s usually talking about the next meal or movie or game on TV. When Galen says plans, he’s talking about Plans.

He runs a hand through his hair. Not a good sign. “The truth is, I’ve been thinking about our deal. How we said we would wait until our mating ceremony until we … And that our mating ceremony would wait until after college. Is that … Is that still what you want?”

I pull my hair around front for fidgeting convenience. Twisting it, I say, “I’m not sure what you’re asking me right now.” Is he saying he doesn’t want to wait to be mated? Just the thought of it, and the intimacy of the “romantically designed” room in general, makes my cheeks smolder. Or is this about Reed? Is he asking me if Reed has changed our plans to be together? Surely, that can’t be it. Surely, he’s not that insecure about his ability to make me swoon.

Galen laces his fingers behind his head, probably to keep from fidgeting himself. I’ve never seen him this nervous before. “Triton’s trident, Emma, I don’t know how much longer I can keep away from you—I really don’t. No, no, it’s not even about that. This is coming out all wrong.” He lets out a slow breath. “What I’m asking is this: After all that’s happened, do you truly want to stay on land?”

Whoa. What?
“Everything that’s happened?” And staying on land as opposed to…?

“You know. Finding out that your mother is the Poseidon princess. That at the first chance she got, she mated with Grom, and now they spend most of their time in the water. I mean, if it weren’t for—” Galen shifts to one foot and leans against the antique dresser.

“If it weren’t for what?” My insides suddenly blister with anger.
“First chance she got?” I guess that could be the short, rude version of what happened.

“Nevermind. I told you, it’s coming out all wrong.”

“You were going to say, If it weren’t for me, Mom would live in the water permanently, weren’t you?” He doesn’t try to deny it. He can’t. It’s all over his face. Along with some appropriate guilt. But the worst part is, he doesn’t just mean that she would live there permanently. He means that she would be happier if she did. That she
should
live there permanently.

Is he saying that I’m somehow standing in the way of my mother’s happiness? Is he saying that I’m standing in the way of his happiness? Or am I reading this all wrong? I try to rein in my feelings and filter them into useful conversation. “You don’t want to wait until after we graduate college to be mated? Is that what this is about?” And if it is, how do I feel about that?

But my brain won’t answer the questions my heart is asking.

He sighs. “I didn’t mean to upset you. We can talk about it later. We’ve both had a long day.”

“You know you don’t have to attend college, Galen. We already talked about this. I can take classes, and you can … We can get an apartment off campus, remember?”

He grimaces. “No. Yes. Sort of.” He crosses his arms over the dresser and rests his chin on them. “Look, I’m not asking for a decision right now, and I’m not trying to pressure you.”

“Pressure me into what? Galen, so far I haven’t heard you ask me to do anything. I don’t know what we’re talking about here.” And I’m getting pretty frustrated with it. He must be, too, because he buries his face in his arms.

Finally he looks at me again, meets my eyes. “I don’t want to go to college,” he says. “All I want to do is have our mating ceremony and go back to the ocean. With you. Now. Ten minutes ago, actually. The sooner the better.”

My jaw may never close again at this point. Shock pirouettes through my veins in precise, intense waves. Is that why he didn’t have a problem stopping before things got too serious on the side of the interstate earlier today? Was he trying to get me to break my promise to wait until after our mating ceremony so he could break his promise to stay on land with me? “You’re backing out of our plans?” I almost choke on the words.

He jerks his head up. “No. I’m just … offering an alternative to the whole college thing.”

“You were the one who wanted to come on this trip, Galen. To get away from the ocean. And now you want to get away from land?”

“I needed to think.”

“And so this is what you came up with? That college is a bad idea and that you’d rather live in the water—where I can’t breathe, if you recall?”

“Dr. Milligan said that over time you could—”

“No.”

“You would live longer. You wouldn’t be as fragile as humans.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You’re angry.”

Understatement of the millennium. “You think?”

“I shouldn’t have brought it up yet. I was waiting for the right time, but I can see this wasn’t it.”

“There is no right time to ask me to live in the ocean with you, Galen. I can’t do that.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?” Now he sounds mad.

I feel so waylaid by this conversation. I just told him I can’t breathe in the water. But even if I could, would I? I wish my brain and my heart could call a truce. I really need them to be on the same side right now. “That’s not fair.”

“Really?” he says, incredulous. “But it’s fair that I give up everything I’ve ever known?”

I feel the tears spill out of my eyes, roll down my hot cheeks, and land on my chest. When he puts it like that, it doesn’t seem fair. But it’s what we agreed on. He said he would go anywhere, as long as I was with him. “You made that decision, Galen. You said you didn’t mind.”