“How did she die?” Driada asked, then added, “You needn’t tell me, though, if it’s too painful.”
“The priest thinks it has to do with the curse.”
Driada gaped. “Your mother was cursed? By whom?”
“Not just my mother. My whole family.”
“Why?”
Thea shrugged. “We displeased the gods somehow.”
Driada looked away. “Did your mother offend them in some way?”
“The gods can be jealous, especially Aryos. My mother has always been beautiful—not only in appearance, but in voice as well.”
“Is the goddess truly so petty?”
“I cannot say with certainty which god turned their back on us. All I know is that one day, we lost their blessing.” Thea rubbed at her eyes. Whether it was from fatigue or sadness, Driada could not say. “The people called my mother the siren. When we would sit in our cavern by
