When the crowd is sufficiently hushed, Reder begins again. “When Poseidon learned of the armies marching against him on land, he appealed to his good friend and well-respected Archive, Neptune, for assistance. Neptune called an emergency council with the other Archives. It was then that Triton made his final move to destroy all Poseidon had worked for. He told the Archive council that he would be willing to use his Gift to save his brother, as long as Poseidon admitted to making a mistake in forging bonds with the humans, and that they could not be trusted. He insisted that Poseidon abandon his city, everything he created there, to live as a Syrena from then on. In exchange for his help against the humans, Triton also demanded that all Syrena stay in the ocean henceforth. Having no other options presented—they couldn’t outnumber the humans after all—the Archive council agreed. Neptune was devastated, of course, to deliver the news to Poseidon. Faced with the decision of the council, the king was outraged, to say the least, but was terrified for his mate and his Half-Breed children who could not return to the ocean with him. That is when Neptune, the Great Archive, became our founding father. He told General Poseidon that he would secretly remain behind on land, never to return to the Syrena realm, and care for Poseidon’s family—and any who wished to abandon the way of life of the ocean dweller. Many did, as we well know. Those who chose to stay on land were believed to have died by the humans’ swords. And hence began the secret.”

“Neptune kept his self-sacrificing promise, friends, helping all who wished to stay ashore escape before the human armies arrived to meet their deaths by the great waves of Triton. He took the refugees farther inland, forbidding them to step foot in the oceans again, because they might be sensed by Trackers. After a time, they realized they could utilize the rivers and other freshwater sources without being detected, and so they did. Our brave descendants not only adapted to a new way of life on land, they embraced it, friends. They became as humans, so as not to be discovered by either species. At first, they were a lost, wandering people, but Neptune led them to a place of their own, a land of their own. They lived there in the fertile valley, unbothered for centuries until the Great Wars began—the humans call it the Spanish Reconquista. Caught in the crosshairs of human disagreement, our brethren were forced to find a more neutral place to etch out their lives. Though long dead, they knew Neptune would want them to seek safety elsewhere. When they heard of Columbus’s expeditions to the New Land, a large part of them made preparations to sail to it. When they arrived, they did as the human pioneers and forged their way to lands of their own, farther and farther inland. And when they happened upon this small vale nestled between the protection of the mountains and surrounded by freshwater springs and caves, they knew they’d found home.”

I become aware of sniffling behind me, and I can understand why. Reder really is a great storyteller, putting emotion and meaning into each syllable—and who doesn’t like happy endings? A great exodus and a homecoming. If it weren’t for the Galen-ache in my stomach, I’d be afloat with all the feel-good emotions like the rest of the gathering.

I wonder what Galen would think of this rendition. He probably would not approve, but who is he to say which story is the truth? From his perspective, Triton’s motive was not envy: He sought to protect the Syrena realm by limiting communication with humans. He disagreed with Poseidon’s lenient view of dealings with them and believed humans would one day turn on his brother. Also, in Galen’s version, Poseidon appealed to Triton for help against the human armies; Reder’s portrayal makes that sound very unlikely.

Still, both stories sound plausible. But there is more detail in this one. More explanation. And given the recent events in the underwater realms, I’m a tad inclined to believe there was dissention before. But what Reder says next is un-freaking-believable.

“Our society is a great secret, friends, kept from generation to generation of Poseidon kings. We have proof of this tonight, with our dear visitor Emma sent here from King Antonis himself. And with her help, we’ll unite the territories once more. She is a sign, friends, a Half-Breed accepted among our ocean-dwelling brethren. A living symbol that we are on the horizon of great change.”

Ohmysweetgoodness.

* * *

Reder takes the seat across from me at his kitchen table, easing into the chair like it might break. It reminds me of when, in the movies, psychiatrists approach a mental patient with slow, deliberate movements so as not to freak him or her out. They use a monotone voice and neutral words, like “okay” and “fine” and “comfortable.”

This might be why Reder sent Reed and Toby out for ice cream—to remove everyone from this conversation except for him and me. The two variables that matter most. To make it seem like even though this is his kitchen, it’s neutral territory and I should be comfortable here.

Or maybe I really enjoy overthinking things.

My hands encircle a mug of hot chocolate—also a typical scene in the movies when trying to reassure a traumatized person—and I watch as the liquid heat melts the marshmallows into tiny puddles of goo on the surface. I realize then that my attentiveness to my mug and the lack of eye contact I’ve offered Reder in general could be discerned as weakness.

And now is not the time for weakness. “I am not a symbol for Neptune.” There. Conversation started.

Reder seems relieved that I’ve chosen to dive right into the subject. “You could be,” he says, wasting no effort on tact. “If you choose to be.”