Chapter 62
The dream wraps itself around me, soft and familiar at first. I’m a child again, standing on the edge of the Mediterranean Sea, the sun warming my back as I stare at the water.
And beside me, there she is—my grandmother, Cara, though I always called her Grandma. She looks just as I remember her, impossibly beautiful, with that ageless face that could be anywhere between thirty-five and fifty-five. Her long dark hair falls in soft waves down her back, and her deep blue eyes—eyes like the sea—watch me with a kind of melancholy I never understood as a child.
Back then, I thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. And I always wished we could spend more time together. But she was always somewhere else, some distant part of the world, sending postcards and letters about far-off places I could only dream of.
Today, though, we’re together, and I’m young again, learning how to swim by her side. The water laps at my feet, cool and inviting, but Grandma stands at a distance, her toes barely touching the surf. I splash around, paddling, my limbs clumsy but determined.
I look up at her, puzzled. “Grandma, why don’t you get in the water? You love the sea.”
She looks at the water, a wistful smile tugging at her lips, but her eyes… there’s something else there. Pain, maybe. Longing. “I’ve been away so long,” she says softly, “Maybe I’m afraid it won’t feel the same.”
I don’t understand what she means. How could water feel any different? It’s always the same—cool, clear, salty. I dunk my head under, the sea filling my ears with muffled sounds. I pop back up and grin. “It’s a little cold, but not enough to make your teeth chatter! And it’s saltwater, so your fingers won’t get pruny!”
She laughs, but the sadness in her smile never fades. “I remember when swimming felt like flying,” she murmurs, more to herself than to me. “My favorite water to swim in was soft and effervescent, like thunderclouds.”
I blink up at her, my eyes wide with wonder. “I didn't know water can feel like clouds! Where can I find a pool like that?”
She looks down at me, her smile growing wistful. “It’s a big world out there, Phoebe,” she says, her voice soft but full of meaning. “An even bigger ocean. You’ll find it for yourself one day.”
I think about this for a moment, my young mind spinning with the possibilities of such a place. The thought excites me, and I feel a giddy rush. I do an underwater backflip, feeling the sea rush around me like wings, and when I resurface, I see Grandma clapping, the sadness momentarily gone from her face.
I swim back to the shore, the waves pushing me gently as I approach her. “But, Grandma,” I ask, still curious, “Will you really never swim again?”
She looks out at the sunset, the golden light casting a soft glow on the horizon. For a moment, I think she’s going to say something hopeful, something that will make everything feel better. But then she sighs and says, “I’m content with my memories.”
I don’t believe her. Even as a child, I can hear the lie in her words. She doesn’t sound content. But before I can ask another question, before I can say anything else, the scene shifts. The beach fades, the sun sets, and the water disappears, leaving me standing in a vast, empty space.
I’m an adult again, but I’m not on any beach. Instead, I’m standing in what looks like a field of starlight. The sky is dark and endless, filled with twinkling stars that pulse and shift as if they’re alive. There’s no land beneath my feet, but somehow I’m grounded, standing on something invisible and solid.
And then, out of the starlight, she appears—Electra. The ethereal being glows with light, her skin shimmering with energy that courses through her veins like lightning. Her presence is overwhelming, like the very air around me is charged with power. I know, instinctively, that this is the goddess.
She steps toward me, her face serene but intense. “Daughter,” she says, her voice resonating in my bones, “Your journey is only just beginning.”
I feel a mix of awe and frustration rise inside me. “Electra,” I say, my voice trembling with questions, “Wh…who are you? What do you want from me?! Where do I fit into all of this?”
But she doesn’t answer my questions. Instead, her glowing eyes lock onto mine, and she says, “Trust in your mate, despite the darkness inside himself he will be forced to face. Cling to the bond you have. Both of your worlds depend on it.”
“Trust him?” I repeat, confused. “What darkness? What do you mean?”
But Electra’s form begins to fade, her light dimming as the stars pulse brighter around us. Panic surges through me, and I shout her name, reaching out toward her. “Electra, wait! You can’t just leave me like this! Tell me more!”
She’s almost gone, her body nothing but a faint shimmer in the starlight.
“Electra!” I scream again, but there’s no one around to hear me. Nothing but darkness and stars.
The field of starlight pulses, and I’m left alone.
***
I jolt awake, gasping for air, my heart hammering in my chest. The machine around me hums softly, and I’m no longer in that starlit field. I’m back in the lab, back in reality, the pain still echoing through my body like an aftershock.
Peter’s voice breaks through the haze of confusion. “Phoebe? Phoebe, are you okay?”
I blink, struggling to focus on his face. He’s hovering over me, his expression tense with concern. Wake stands just behind him, his presence a steady anchor in the chaos of my mind.
“We… we found it,” Peter says, his voice quiet but filled with a strange mix of excitement and dread. “We found the genetic marker.”
My mind races, the memory of Electra’s words still fresh. Trust Wake, she’d said. Despite the darkness.
I look up at him, my voice barely a whisper. “What happens now?”
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