“I did not recognize the face of the woman who answered the door, and I asked to see James.
“She said that she was his sister, Elizabeth. Then I realized that she was the young woman I’d seen with Melia in the market months before. Her face was so altered—it seemed gray with age, and there were lines around the bright blue eyes. But the same sweetness lingered in her expression. I told her that I was looking for Melia.
“She let out a little noise then—part sigh, part gasp. I felt her fear, her horror, her despair.
“Melia had been arrested on suspicion of witchcraft. Arrested … and tried. And found guilty.
“Not that it was much of a trial. Elizabeth and James, of course, testified on her behalf. But there was too much evidence against her. There was her mysterious, sudden appearance in town. Her lack of memory. Her unnatural beauty. Her red hair. And Melia did not even have family to speak for her.
“She was sentenced to burn.
“Melia had been dead for months, and I hadn’t even known it. When I heard this news, I felt sick. I thought I would vomit, but Elizabeth put out an arm to steady me. She said that she had a letter from Melia. She had slipped it to Elizabeth in secret, when she had come to visit her before the trial began. Melia had instructed Elizabeth to give it to me if she ever saw me again.
“I opened the letter. In it, Melia described her love for James and her fear of the stake. ‘My dearest Asia,’ it read, ‘please care for James. He has done everything he could to save me, and I fear that his anguish makes him desperate. If he were to go to sea with these feelings, you and I both know what could happen to him.’
“I remember reading that and feeling fear pierce my heart. Elizabeth told me that James’s craft had departed ten days before, en route to South America.
“I flew down the stairs so quickly that I nearly crashed into my boy. His expression made me stop and turn. Elizabeth was still standing in the doorway, watching me. I asked Elizabeth to care for him, and then I left. I had to get to the sea.
“The ocean is a vast place. Even you, who live at its edge, cannot comprehend its immensity. But I knew something of the sea lanes—something of the routes. And I knew that James’s pain would carry far, very far.
“I knew that my own felt as wide as the acres of water before me.
“For three days, I swam. I caught up to them off the coast of Georgia. The water had gone eerily calm, and I knew—I knew that Calypso was nearby. But I did not see her, nor any of her band. I stayed close to the ship and waited. For two more days the ship sailed south.
“Sometimes I saw James stand near the port bow. I would have recognized him even without his captain’s uniform, for he looked very much like Elizabeth. He had the same fair hair and blue eyes, but where her expression was all sweetness and innocence, his was full of wisdom and compassion, and sadness.
“When the winds changed, they changed suddenly. And on the breeze, I heard the song—Calypso’s song. It was so beautiful and melancholy, even I felt drawn to it. And how could the sailors resist such a song? They didn’t even realize that they were hearing it. The music entered their minds like a thought, and soon they were sailing off course.
“For a while I wasn’t sure of her intent. But I knew that two thousand years had not made Calypso weary of vengeance. If anything, it had only fed her bloodlust. I think that her original betrayal—Ulysses, Telemachus, Penelope—had been all but forgotten. She had become nothing more than a receptacle for anger, for blood. She killed because she loved the killing.
“She drew the sailors away for half a day more. The sun was beginning to set, sending wide ribbons of orange and purple across the horizon. The sea was calm, but not unusually so. We had moved south enough to enter beautiful weather. The water was warm, the air mild against my face.
“The ship was a three-masted schooner, tall and lovely. The figurehead was a mermaid, carved and painted, with bare breasts and long golden hair. The vessel sliced through the water smoothly, sending a line of white foam in its wake.
“The ship wasn’t far off course. Calypso didn’t seem to be drawing them into foul weather, or toward any island that I knew of. I watched the ship, puzzled. I decided to swim alongside it for a while.
“Then I saw what she intended. She was drawing them toward a group of rocks. They were below the surface of the sea, and invisible to the sailors. But I could see them.
“There wasn’t much that I could do. It was too late—the ship was bearing down on the rocks, and in a matter of moments the boulders’ jagged edges had torn a wide hole in the starboard hull.
“It groaned and heaved, and sailors struggled to man the lifeboats. Others simply jumped overboard as the ship rolled over onto its side like an old dog.
“In a moment, the water was swarming with seekriegers. The sea was thick with bodies as Calypso and her band descended on the sailors. They wore ragged clothing made from the hides of seals and other sea creatures, which made them look animal and fierce. The men who jumped overboard did not come back up to the surface. Soon the blue water ran with red.
“One lifeboat was overturned, then another. James had been directing men into the boats, but when he saw what was happening, he stopped. He had a pistol, and he started firing it into the water, at the seekriegers. A few other men grabbed firearms, but most had none, or else were already struggling in the water.
“I swam as close as I dared, but I feared he might shoot me. He would not know that I was there to help him. How could he?
“A seekrieger clawed her way up the side of the boat, and he took aim at her. She staggered back under the blast and dropped into the water.
“But another seekrieger was behind that one. I recognized her by her silver hair and violet eyes. It was Calypso. She reached for James, and he fired again—but the chamber was empty.
“I dove toward them and met them as Calypso dragged him into the water. He looked around in horror as his men were slaughtered, and I could feel his guilt—these were his men, and he had not saved them.
“I called out to Calypso, and she turned in surprise.
“She smiled a slow, languid smile, revealing teeth that had been sharpened to shark points. Her large eyes blinked at me in the twilight. It had been many years, but she knew me. She called my name.
“James looked at me closely, as if he recognized the name. I wondered if Melia had spoken of me.
“I told Calypso that I had come for James, and she looked at him with new interest, as if he were a jewel that she hadn’t realized she had.
“ ‘What will you give me in exchange for this life?’ she asked.
“I told her that I would give her anything.
“She studied him for another moment, smiling her strange shark smile. I thought that she would kill him then, bite into his neck or tear out his heart. But to my surprise, she released him.
“I grabbed him, held him as he struggled. He was strong, but not strong enough. I subdued him.
“ ‘You will give me whatever I ask,’ she said to me.
“Around us, the sea had grown quiet. Here and there, among the bloody water, dark fins had begun to appear. Smelling blood, the sharks had come. I saw a few of Calypso’s followers. All of them had sharpened teeth and large eyes. Their skin was luminous in the darkening light.
“I asked Calypso what she wanted, and she replied that she did not yet know. ‘I will call to you,’ she said.
“I can’t describe the feeling that overcame me then. I feared for the future—for what she might ask. I was swimming in a warm sea of blood. Calypso drew her dark lips back, revealing those hideous teeth. I felt something brush my leg—a shark. I knew that it would not dare to bother me … it was James that it wanted.
“Calypso just smiled. She knew as well as I did that it wasn’t possible for one of us to break a promise. If we did, we faced a sort of soul death. We would not die, but we would have no more intellect. We’d become nothing more than a fish in the ocean, with no s
elf-consciousness. A sort of zombie, I suppose, is what you would call it. I looked around. The other seekriegers had circled us, and I felt their bloodlust like it was my own. I could not fight all of them. And even if I tried, they would kill James.
“And in my heart, I had promised Melia that I would protect him. The moment I read her letter, I’d made the promise.
“So I took him.
“We traveled slowly. I had learned from my experience with the boy. I could not simply carry a human underwater with me. When we reached landfall, I built a boat, and I managed to tug him back to the closest port, which was Charleston. From there, he planned to contact his employers and tell them that the ship had run aground and the cargo was lost. Before I left him, I extracted a promise from him. I asked him to care for my boy. He said that he would. Even though I believed him, I still checked up on them once in a while. Indeed, James did take care of my boy, raising him as his own son. He retired from a life of the sea, and instead entered the military. He never married. I think he was the kind of man who could marry only once. And he had married Melia in his heart, if not before a judge or a priest.
“He was like us in that way. He could not break a promise.”
Chapter Twelve
Song of the Sirens, from the Odyssey,
Book XII
No one ever sailed past us without staying to hear the enchanting sweetness of our song—and he who listens will go on his way not only charmed, but wiser, for we know all the ills that the gods laid upon the Argives and Trojans before Troy, and can tell you everything that is going to happen over the whole world.
Gravel crunched outside as cars sped past the little town library. An apologetic woman with a drooping face approached their table tentatively.
“I’m sorry, but I wanted to let you know that the library will be closing in half an hour.” Her voice was a half whisper that sounded like a flute playing softly. She touched her glasses and flashed a self-conscious smile at Asia.
Will had noticed that about Asia—men wanted to catch her eye, of course, but women did, too. It was as if they wanted her approval.
Asia stood, her legs uncurling gracefully from beneath the wooden library table. “We’re leaving,” she announced. And she looked at Will.
Will didn’t have the strength to argue, so he followed her.
Night had fallen, and the tall iron street lamps glowed yellow overhead as they stepped onto the sidewalk. They started away from the town. Will was glad. He felt wrung out, like an orange that’s been juiced. An empty rind.
For a long time, there was only the sound of their footsteps and the rush of cars as they passed by. It was Will who broke the silence.
“So why are you here?”
“Calypso finally called to me. And I returned her call.”
“And then you sold the flute.”
“I have no more need to contact my sisters. And no wish to do so.”
“What did she ask for?”
The question hung in the darkness for a moment. “She asked me to deliver someone to her,” Asia said finally.
“Deliver someone?” Will went cold. “You mean kill them?”
Asia put a hand on his arm. “I would never kill someone, Will.”
Will shook off her grip. “Don’t bullshit me, okay? That’s just a technicality. If you hand someone over to those lunatics … So who did you deliver—Jason?”
“I haven’t delivered anyone,” Asia replied.
“Yet,” Will snapped.
Asia sighed. “Yes.”
“So—who’s it going to be? What innocent person are you going to snatch off the street?” He gestured to the shopping district around them.
Asia shook her head. “Calypso has an enemy. Someone who has hunted her over the ages. This enemy disappeared for a while. But a year ago she reappeared.”
“A siren?” Will asked.
“No. Nor human, either. The Burning One.”
Will digested this information. “So why don’t you just team up with Calypso’s enemy and fight?”
Asia shook her head. “I can’t, Will. If I break my promise …”
“So you didn’t have anything to do with my brother’s death?” Will asked.
“Will, I don’t know what happened to your brother,” Asia said. “I can guess, but I wasn’t there.”
“But they were—right? That’s why the flute was there?”
“That is my assumption.”
“And what about Jason?”
Asia sighed a delicate, lacy breath. “The seekriegers are here, waiting. It isn’t safe—not for anyone with as much anger as Jason. They had already taken one, just a few weeks earlier.”
Will felt this answer rather than heard it. The words made him tremble. Asia put a hand on his arm and said, “It’s all right.”
“Yeah.” He laughed bitterly. “And by ‘all right,’ do you mean ‘completely fucked up’?”
Asia winced. “All I can tell you is that once I fulfill my promise, they should depart.”
“So why don’t you do it, then?”
Asia looked at him for a long time, and he read the pain in her eyes. “I suppose you could say that I am weak,” she said finally.
Will ran his hands over his face. “Does Kirk Worstler know what you are?”
“I think so.”
“Why? How?”
Asia shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“How can you do it?” Will’s voice was almost a whisper.
Asia did not look at him. “I have no choice.”
“There’s always a choice.”
Asia looked into his eyes. “Not every story has a happy ending, Will,” she told him.
“Have you ever told anyone what you are?” Will asked.
“A human? No.”
“So—why are you trusting me?”
“You already knew half the truth, and yet I sensed no danger from you. Besides, I know how it feels to lose someone. I know how badly you want answers.…”
Will placed a hand against his face, feeling the scar beneath his fingertips. “Why didn’t Calypso kill me?”
Asia shook her head. “That is not for me to say.”
Will laughed, but it was a bitter sound. “It’s the only question I care about.”
“I know, Will. I understand completely. And I wish that I could help you,” The sadness in her voice was like a heavy weight—like an anchor dropping deep into the sea. Will could almost feel the heft of it. “But I don’t have the answer.”
Chapter Thirteen
From the Walfang Gazette
Court to Hear Dispute Between
Neighbors
Millicent Halliwell, of Walfang, claims that her next-door neighbors have been keeping her awake with loud music. “I’ve heard it as late as three in the morning,” Ms. Halliwell claims. “It’s so loud that nothing blocks it out. I’ve tried earplugs, white noise, everything.”
Her neighbors, Bruce and Daniella Narsburg, claim that they haven’t been playing music late at night, and weren’t even in town one of the evenings in question. “She called the cops on us,” Mr. Narsburg told the Gazette. “But they didn’t hear any music. This is just harassment, pure and simple.” The Narsburgs have filed a separate suit.…
Will felt the rumble of the motorcycle in his whole body. The heavy vibrations shook him, rattling his bones as he sped down the black ribbon of road. His mind was still spinning from everything Asia had told him, and the noise and motion felt soothing to him. It felt normal—mortal.
Will’s single headlight picked up a motion, and he swerved to avoid hitting the thing that had staggered into the road.
It threw up an arm and recoiled, and Will—too late—slammed on the brakes. The motorcycle shuddered, skidding to a stop. Will let it tumble onto its side behind him as he raced toward the man in the road. Will ripped off his helmet and dropped to his knees beside the limp form, which had fallen face-first onto the asphalt.
Gingerly Will turne
d the figure over.
“Oh my God.” His voice was a strangled murmur when he caught sight of the person’s face. He was young—a teenager—and pale. His eyes were huge and dark, his pupils dilated to the width of his irises. The whites of his eyes stood out in the darkness.
He looked up at Will with those wild eyes, and his face seemed to register something. He opened his cracked lips to release a strangled voice. “I know you,” the boy whispered.
“Jesus Christ!” Will lifted the boy’s head into the crook of his arm. “Kirk?”
Kirk laughed then, but it was a laugh without humor. “They’ve come for her.” He grabbed Will by the collar, smearing the blue and white cotton of Will’s shirt with blood. “The bay holds no fear. The fury must awake! Now is the time—they’re waiting!”
Will struggled to free himself from Kirk’s grip, but the crazy kid wasn’t letting go. What’s he doing here? Isn’t he supposed to be in Hampton Bays?
Will looked down at Kirk’s feet. He wasn’t wearing shoes. His feet were bloody.
Kirk’s teeth were gritted. “I’ve called to them.” He spat the words rather than said them. “They’re waiting! I hear them!”
“What?”
But Kirk choked. He coughed, spitting up blood, and released Will from his iron grasp. He fell back then, knocking his head nastily against the pavement.
“Kirk?” Will hauled him back into his arms. “Kirk?”
But Kirk had passed out.
Will looked over at his bike. He wasn’t sure he could get Kirk to the hospital that way. Instead he pulled out his cell phone.
What is it with Kirk Worstler? Will wondered as he dialed 911. Why does he always need me to save his life?
“Is he awake? Is he talking?” Angus slid into the soft chair beside Will in the hospital waiting room, talking a mile a minute. “Dude, tell me what he said—this is crazy.”
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