“No one escapes the Sea’s reckoning in this searing sequel. . . . Powerful and emotionally gratifying.” — Kirkus Reviews (starred review) By sinking a fleet of Imperial Warships, the Pirate Supreme and the resistance have struck a massive blow against the Emperor. Now allies from across the empire are readying themselves to bring about the end of the conquerors’ rule and the rebirth of the Sea. But trust and truth are hard to come by in this complex world of mermaids, spies, warriors, and aristocrats. Who will Genevieve—washed up half-dead on the Wariuta island shore—turn out to be? Is warrior Koa’s kindness toward her admirable, or is his sister Kaia’s suspicion wiser? Back in the capital, will pirate-spy Alfie betray the Imperials who have shown him affection, especially when a duplicitous senator reveals xe would like nothing better? Meanwhile, the Sea is losing more and more of herself as her daughters are brutally hunted, and the Empire continues to expand and profit. A web of schemes, shifting loyalties, and blossoming identities converge in Maggie Tokuda-Hall’s remarkable companion to The Mermaid, the Witch, and the Sea , as unlikely allies work to forge a new and better world. A tragedy upends the worldview of a handmaid to an Imperial spy in this follow-up to 2020’s The Mermaid, the Witch, and the Sea . . . . No one escapes the Sea’s reckoning in this searing sequel. The cast is diverse in gender identity, sexual orientation, skin color, and socioeconomic status. Together, they tell a story in which justice isn’t attained through a cycle of vengeance but with the truth laid bare, paving the way toward reconciliation. Powerful and emotionally gratifying. —Kirkus Reviews (starred review) As in the first volume, the diversity of the archipelagic world is again proudly, organically on display, with a variety of nationalities and cultural experiences shaping characters’ relationships to the Empire.. . . . Most importantly, the novel’s decolonial imagination challenges readers to re-envision received notions of power, accountability, compassion, grief, liberty, and resistance. —The Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books The narrative weaves delicate intrigues, ever-shifting allegiances, and the evolution of identities as young allies band together to forge a new world and protect the sea’s mystical inhabitants from falling prey to commercial endeavors. . . . A high-fantasy novel that will resonate with those seeking an escape that also mirrors the complex realities of colonization and war. —School Library Journal The Siren, the Song, and the Spy is a welcome companion to Maggie Tokuda-Hall's ethereal The Mermaid, the Witch, and the Sea , and brings to a head the long-simmering conflict between the Resistance and the greedy Nipran Empire. . . . Magical prose flows smoothly and brings a sense of enchantment to the story. This strong offering about imperialist aggressions, rebels, and reprisal should effortlessly sweep readers into its realms as it makes a compelling plea for pacifism. —Shelf Awareness The follow-up to The Mermaid, the Witch, and the Sea cements Maggie Tokuda-Hall as one of the most unflinching voices in contemporary genre literature. This book contains the compassion we need alongside the reckoning we deserve. —Sarah Gailey, author of When We Were Magic Threaded with unconventional women and peacemaker men, ‘Siren’ imagines a world deeply imbued with Asian and Polynesian cultures, where kindness is as much of a weapon as kau. —The Star Tribune Emotive… compelling. —Tor.com Maggie Tokuda-Hall has an MFA in creative writing from the University of San Francisco and a strong cake-decorating game. She is the author of the young adult novel The Mermaid, the Witch, and the Sea , an indie bestseller and recipient of the Northern California Book Award in Children’s Literature, as well as the picture book Also an Octopus , illustrated by Benji Davies, which won a Parents’ Choice Gold Award. Maggie Tokuda-Hall lives in Oakland, California, with her children, husband, and dog. Prologue Genevieve   Genevieve was not dead.    Thanks to the Emperor, she was alive. She was aware of her body, which lay on the sand, aware of the sun that cracked her skin. But she could not open her eyes.    Time had gone in all directions, and Genevieve did not know where in its vast landscape she had fallen. Sometimes she was at her mother’s dinner table. Then she was back aboard the Dove. She had heard the whumph of a submerged explosion breaking the surface of the sea. The Lady Ayer called to her and bade she braid her hair. A boy her age held out his hand, his name lost in the blare of cannons and pistols firing.    The wind carried a name: Thistle.    She had not heard it aloud in years. She tried to move her chapped lips around the sound, but all that arose was a hiss. She coughed, her throat dry and aching.    She was alive.    Her survival was not the only impossible thing that had hap