The Characters

Eva (Arethusa) Maré

Mary Nelson as Eva Mare. Photo by Beth Furumasu.

Eva Maré’s life is a study in con­tra­dic­tions. She is a first-​​generation Azorean-​​American grow­ing up in New Bedford, Massachusetts in the 1890s. Yet her fam­ily ori­gins are deeply rooted in Terceira Island in the Azores Archipelago, Portugal. She has grown up in a divided house­hold: her mother is a pagan wor­ship­per of the Moon Goddess Artemis and her father is a devout Catholic. Eva must choose, once and for all, which faith she will fol­low, but each choice car­ries severe consequences.

What read­ers are saying

“Eva (an apt name, sug­gest­ing begin­nings, inno­cence and simul­ta­ne­ous temp­ta­tion) must choose between the iden­ti­ties she has been given—first she becomes Arethusa, des­tined to meet her Alpheus as her mother con­fi­dently taught her. Then she becomes Isolde of Cornish leg­end, des­tined to lose her true love, Tristan, through the spite of oth­ers. The end­ing of the book is a rather pro­found real­i­sa­tion on the nature of these iden­ti­ties.”  —Alexandra Riley

Excerpt

“Have I done some­thing to hurt you?” In his face, she saw true empa­thy. He knew noth­ing of what she felt. He was beyond reproach, know­ing nei­ther the decep­tions of Isabel and Diogo nor her own love for him.

She shook her head, and then fell into him. Pressing her face into his shoul­der, she felt his arms come around her. She had never felt safer, never in the arms of Pai, her true mother, or even her beloved sea. Was she not made for this place, this soft space inside the cir­cle of Tristan’s arms?

Tristão (Tristan) Vazante

Tristão Vazante grew up in an orphan­age in Angra do Heroísmo, aban­doned by his father and griev­ing for the loss of the mother he never knew. He never takes life for granted, and always looks for the good in people.

Tyler Nordby as Tristan Vazante. Photo by Beth Furumasu.

Hope is the flame that lights his way. The morn­ing after a ter­ri­ble storm, he finds a girl half-​​dead on the shore. Tristão becomes her pro­tec­tor but when he dis­cov­ers Eva’s a pagan, he ques­tions his love for her.

What read­ers are saying

Excerpt

“Something hap­pened to you tonight. You are shak­ing.” He brushed a strand of damp hair from her fore­head, and she almost shied away. The ges­ture seemed too inti­mate some­how. Perhaps it was because it meant too much to her and noth­ing to him. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but maybe tomor­row you’ll change your mind. Get some sleep. Don’t let the con­deza or Pai see your ban­dages. They’ll hound you until they know everything.”

As he walked away, Arethusa caught his arm. “Thank you,” she mouthed to him, and reach­ing up with two fin­gers, she touched his tem­ple and then her own. To her it meant I love you, but to Tristan . . . she never knew what it meant to him.

Tristan gave her a sad smile, and then he was gone.

Diogo Cheia

Montetre as Diogo Cheia. Photo by Beth Furumasu.

Diogo Cheia’s father is a mar­quez and soon he will be too. He always gets what he wants. Always. On the sail­ing to Terceira Island, he finds a new play­thing to pass the time: Eva. He also dis­cov­ers her secret, and knows just how to play the game to his advantage.

Excerpt

“Please let me go, Diogo.” She didn’t know what to do. He was too strong, and he blocked the only exit.

“Too late,” he said in mock apol­ogy, pulling at the but­tons on her high neckline.

She turned away, revolted. “Diogo, I won’t do this with you. Not now . . . not ever.” For an instant, she glimpsed the weight of her rejec­tion through his down-​​turned head and the clench of his jaw.

He raised his head at last, and a wounded rage fired his eyes. “I will say it again: too late . . .”

Conde Fernando Estrela

Conde Fernando Estrela is a man of many secrets. Without a word of expla­na­tion, he adopts Arethusa (Eva) and Tristan, bring­ing them into a home shrouded by past wrongs and word­less strife. Conde Estrela is haunted by loss, yet he still har­bors hope that he, too, might find redemp­tion before the end. Complex he may be, but he comes to love Tristan and Arethusa as his own children.

Excerpt

“If you do not trou­ble to check your wife,” Padre had said, “she could destroy what lit­tle hope your chil­dren have for a new life.”

As Arethusa lis­tened with an ear pressed to Pai’s study door, she heard a great strain in her adop­tive father’s voice. “I cannot—I can­not pre­vent her.”

“You must, Fernando. Inês’s words are poison.”

“You have never under­stood. You can­not know what I’ve done to Inês, what pain she suf­fers for my sins. I can­not change my fate and I would not if I could, and it is Inês who suf­fers for it. I refuse to turn my back on her, and yet I do every day that I live.”

“And have you not also turned your back on your children?”

“Arethusa and Tristan know I love them. It is Inês who is left to doubt.”

“It is not love if you do not pro­tect your chil­dren from those who seek to hurt them. Inês speaks to them from a place of bit­ter­ness, and by allow­ing her to speak this way, you hurt her the very most.”

“I can­not, Leandro. Speak to her your­self if you must, but do not ask me again.”

“You will answer to God for this some­day, brother.”

“I am will­ing to pay the price. I only hope when that day comes, Arethusa and Tristan will understand.”

Maria Maré

Maria Maré has held true to the beliefs of her mother, giv­ing her heart and devo­tion to the god­dess of the moon, Artemis. She has ful­filled her des­tiny, and she will now pass that des­tiny on to her daugh­ter, Eva. She is not afraid, hav­ing known what was com­ing since first she learned of her daughter’s con­cep­tion. Generations of the Maré women have come to this fate, fraught with dan­ger it may be. But the god­dess can­not be ques­tioned, and the honor is hers to fol­low Artemis, even unto death.

Excerpt

“Arethusa, look at me.”

Mãe pulled the moon­stone from its hook. Its flash­ing blue depths reminded her of the eyes she had seen in the sea. Her mother held it out, sym­pa­thy snatch­ing at the cor­ners of her mouth.

“The moon­stone will pro­tect you. Keep it close and it will some­day show you who you truly are. This is the key, Arethusa.” Mãe touched the face of the pen­dant. “This stone holds the answer to all your riddles.”

A strange light caught Arethusa’s eye. She glanced out the port­hole. The Goddess had fired the horizon’s edge a silver-​​gold. Goose bumps crept the length of her arms. Artemis was ris­ing at last—she would soon break the waves. Here was the Goddess. Here was all she desired. Here was free­dom and devo­tion in one.

“It’s yours now,” Mãe said, tears fill­ing her eyes. Then she draped the chain around her neck.