Page 65 of A Crown of Hopes and Sorrows

I sucked in a breath. “Does that mean you gave up your divinity?”

Amara stepped forward, pressing her wrinkled fingers together. Her crepey skin hung along her jaw. “I did, child,” she said. “And I’d do it again without hesitating. You are our future.”

Poseidon winced. “We may be getting ahead of ourselves, Amara.”

She nodded and reached towards me but then paused, drawing back and grabbing the horse’s reins once more. Poseidon’s features tightened, and he gestured with his jaw. “Let us walk together, Artemis.”

I clamped my teeth down, but I bobbed my head and ambled alongside him. He remained silent for a while, his golden eyes ahead of us on the sandy divots of the beach, the smooth forms of driftwood where gulls that swept through the sky landed on limbs, causing them to tremble.

“Your mother,” Poseidon said, tucking his hands behind him, “had a prophecy as a young woman from the Fates.”

I ran my tongue against the back of my teeth. “How did she meet the Fates?”

“I suppose you know every half-deity has an audience with them as a child.”

I nodded. Apollo had gone and returned, refusing to speak for a week. That had been years ago, but the memory of his anxious eyes and furrowed brow pierced my mind through with clarity.

“Your mother—Leto—was gifted from childhood. She was but a mortal and yet had magic in her blood. Likely a grandparent of hers was a half-deity, but that connection is lost.” He swept his muscled arms out, rippling the robe he wore. “Her skills as a seer became apparent by the time she was three. And so, the high priestess of her village made an appeal to the goddess Hebe.” He paused and shifted towards me. “Are you familiar with her?”

“She’s one of Apollo’s siblings.”

“Yes. Hebe arranged the meeting for your mother, and when she turned ten, she received her prophecy.”

Sandpipers scuttled by, their long legs peppering into the sand as they raced the tide. “What was it?”

Poseidon cleared his throat and stopped walking. Standing there bathed in sunlight, he looked like a god of the sea, the curves of his muscles gleaming in light, the ocean roaring beyond him, his strong jawline highlighted as he lifted his face towards the heavens. “What I tell you changes your fate. Or perhaps seals something Leto set in motion many years ago.”

“I know.”

He nodded. “She was to be the mother of a new era. A time comes”—he paused, frowning—“where the old high gods fade, and new ones rise to take their place.”

I leaned away from him, my toes dipping into the warmth of the sand. “Are you talking about me?”

“I am. You and your brother.”

“We’re to replace the old gods? Do you mean yourself?”

“Yes, and Zeus, among others.”

“You’re saying this like it doesn’t matter to you.”

He sighed and stepped closer to the shoreline, so that his feet dipped beneath the tide as it swept in. “I’ve lived a very long time. Far longer than you can presently imagine. I’ve seen entire human civilizations come and go, stars spark to life and burn themselves out, galaxies form and dissolve. This world and its pettiness have long exhausted me. It doesn’t bother me in the least to see it handed off to someone else, to face whatever reality may stand for gods after our deaths.”

“And Zeus?”

“Will fight to maintain his authority, even if the cost is the torture and pillaging of every soul remaining on this planet, divine or otherwise.”

My sandaled feet sunk into the damp sand as another wave washed forward, a scalloped shell biting my toes. “How does he accept the Fate’s prophecy, then?”

Poseidon clicked his tongue. “He doesn’t know it. At least not all of it. The Fates have long since held back futures from him. For all his power, he cannot usurp them. They reveal only pieces of destinies to him, bits they have selected.”

“So, not about me or Apollo?”

“They’ve told him Apollo is to ascend and become the sun god. He believes that to be in his favor. But he also fears it won’t. Zeus is not a fool.” He shifted his sharp gaze back to me again. “Keep that in mind in your future.”

“Maybe I don’t want this future. Have you considered that?”

“I have not. What you wish for is irrelevant.”