Daniel smirked. “You certainly did.”
“I think I’ll just grab Marcy and get out of here.”
“And I’ll get back to Harper.” Daniel took a deep breath and headed back over to his girlfriend.
Marcy was still standing near the appetizer table, talking with Kirby. He was smiling, so it couldn’t be going that bad.
“How do you feel about turtles?” Marcy was asking Kirby when Gemma walked over, and she was really sorry that she hadn’t heard the beginning of the conversation.
“Like the reptile?” Kirby asked.
“You know they are reptiles.” Marcy nodded her approval. “That’s good. Some people think they’re amphibians.”
“Who thinks that?” Kirby arched his eyebrows in confusion.
“Too many people,” Marcy replied wearily.
“Hey, Marce, sorry to interrupt, but I think we’re heading out now if you wanted to join us,” Gemma said.
“Oh, cool,” Marcy said. “I guess we’re heading out then.”
“Okay,” Kirby said, but when Marcy started to walk away, he stopped her. “Um, did you want to exchange numbers, then? So we could watch the Finding Bigfoot marathon together?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Marcy smiled and pulled out her phone. “That’d be great.” They exchanged numbers, with Kirby fumbling a bit as he tried to type it into his phone.
“Wow. I’m impressed,” Gemma said as they walked away.
“Why?” Marcy asked.
“You got his number and made a date.”
“What can I say? I’ve got mad game,” Marcy said.
TWELVE
Musings
Brian dropped a pancake onto Harper’s plate, and she mumbled an offhanded thanks. While she appreciated his making her breakfast, her attention was focused on Thalia’s journal.
After they’d come home from the party last night, both Gemma and Harper had gone through it. They’d taken turns reading it aloud, with Harper lying in her bed and Gemma sitting in the old recliner in Harper’s room.
Lying down had been a bad idea, but they’d made it almost halfway through before Harper had fallen asleep. She’d been so worn-out from trying to catch up on her schoolwork that she’d barely made it past midnight.
Gemma, meanwhile, appeared to have stayed up most of the night. When Harper awoke in the morning, Gemma was passed out in the chair, with Thalia’s journal lying open on her chest, opened to a page very close to the end.
Harper was careful not to wake Gemma when she took the journal from her, then covered her up with a blanket before coming downstairs for breakfast. Now Harper was rushing to read through it and catch up to where her sister had left off.
“Is there anything useful in there?” Brian asked, sitting down at the kitchen table across from Harper.
“What?” Harper lifted her head to look at him.
“Is there anything that might help you?” Brian pointed to the journal.
“I don’t know.” Harper leaned back in her chair. “I think so, but it’s complicated.”
“Was she really a muse?” Brian asked.
“Yes, she was. She was the very last one,” Harper said. “She’d been living underground, in hiding, because something was coming after the muses and killing them. She doesn’t say what, but based on what I know now, I think it might have been the sirens.”
“The sirens want to kill everything, so that makes sense, but what do you mean? Based on what you know now?” Brian asked.
“It’s how she describes them.” She flipped back a few pages. It was toward the end of the book when Thalia seemed to grow more afraid, writing more about what was after her and what it meant.
“Beware of the songs,” Harper read aloud. “I tell my love that nightly, reminding Bernard that he can never trust the charms of those that come from the sea. Their songs will enchant him, but he mustn’t let them. If they come for me, I won’t be able to protect him, not like I once did. Now that I’m mortal, I can fall for their songs as easily as he, so I must ready him for their poison.”
“He’d say things like that. ‘Beware of the songs.’ I wish I’d paid more attention to Bernie’s stories.” Brian shook his head sadly. “But I just thought they were stories. I didn’t put much stock in them.”
“What did he tell you?” Harper leaned forward and rested her arms on the table.
“I’ve already told you as much as I can remember.” Brian pushed his pancakes around in syrup, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to take a bite. “When he had a few drinks, Bernie would tell me to watch for sirens. He said that his wife wasn’t afraid of anything, but she was afraid of them.”
He set down his fork and stared off. His brow furrowed as he tried to remember more about Bernie’s stories.
“He said he knew they would come eventually,” Brian said at length. “He told me to beware of their songs.” He shook his head. “No, that wasn’t it. It was … ‘Beware the ones that sing, for their songs are poison…’ Or something like that.”
“Did he talk about it often?” Harper asked.
“No. Actually, he only mentioned it a few times when we were at the bar, and even then, it was only a sentence or two in passing. Usually just a drunken warning about being wary of the singing temptress.
“There was one time, though,” Brian went on. “Me and your mom went out with Bernie, for his birthday or New Year’s or something. You and Gemma were really young at the time. In fact, I think Nathalie was still breast-feeding, so she wasn’t drinking.
“Bernie really got to talking about Thalia and the sirens and muses and nymphs, because your mom kept asking him about it. She was really interested in that kind of thing. But I wasn’t paying that much attention, and I was drinking, and I don’t remember much about it anymore.” Brian lowered his eyes. “But your mom, she would know … if she could still remember anything.”
“Did he actually call them sirens?” Harper asked, eager to pull her dad’s thoughts away from her mom. Thinking about Nathalie only ever made him sad.
“Yeah, he did.” Brian nodded. “Usually, he’d call them temptresses or vixens or harlots, but he did use the word ‘sirens.’ But the only thing I really remember him saying was that they sing, they were beautiful, and they were deadly.”
“He didn’t tell you how to handle them or anything?” Harper asked.
Brian chewed the inside of his cheek, thinking. “No, he just told me to avoid them.”
“But you said he knew they were coming for him. Why did he think that?”
“I’m guessing it’s because of that book right there.” Brian pointed to the journal lying on the table. “But he didn’t really specify. He implied that it had something to do with his wife.”
“They didn’t kill Thalia, right?” Harper asked.
She’d read in a newspaper clipping that Thalia had fallen off a ladder and died, and earlier, Lydia had confirmed that she’d died of natural causes. But Harper just wanted to be sure that Bernie didn’t suspect foul play. If he had, and he was afraid of the sirens, he might have covered it up.
“No, no, I don’t think so,” Brian said. “Bernie talked to me in depth about her death after your mom got hurt since Thalia had an accident, too. He blamed himself for it because he wasn’t there when she fell. He really loved her.”
“And she really loved him.” Harper stared down at the pages, covered in Thalia’s delicate handwriting and lovely scrawls. “Their story would be romantic if it weren’t so tragic.”
“Why?”
“They met in England in 1960 and instantly fell in love. Thalia goes on for pages and pages about how much she loved him and describes every intricate detail of their first meetings.” Harper flipped through the pages to demonstrate. Portions of the journal were nothing more than sonnets, all dedicated to Bernard. “I think some of it might help Gemma, but I’m not sure if it will help break the curse.”
Her dad tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
“When Thalia met Bernie, she was a muse, but he fell in love with her, deeply and passionately, and it wasn’t because of her supernatural abilities. He really loved her for her.”
“How does that relate to Gemma?”
“Well, her and Alex,” Harper explained, and Brian’s mouth turned down in a deep scowl. “Dad, I know this is tough for you. But she really loves him, and I think he really loves her.”
“Then why haven’t I seen him around lately?” Brian asked.
When Harper and Gemma had told their dad about everything, Gemma had glossed over the part where she had used a siren song on Alex. It wasn’t that she was trying to keep it from him, but it was still painful for her to talk about. She’d rather leave it unsaid.
“Things are complicated between the two of them,” Harper said, brushing over it for Gemma’s sake. “But Thalia offers a glimmer of hope.” She flipped through the journal, looking for the right page. Then she found it, near the front, right after the passage where Bernie asked her to marry him.
“Perhaps it is the heart that is the most supernatural thing of all,” Harper read aloud. “Not just because of the power it wields over mortals and gods but its ability to remain unchanged even in the face of peril or temptation. No curse, no spell, no creature on earth or in heaven can reroute its true course. What the heart loves, the heart will always truly love.”
When Harper looked up from the faded pages of the journal, her dad had fallen silent. Though he tried to hide it, she could see the pain in his eyes, and she knew he must be thinking of Nathalie and how he still loved her.
“There are a few other gems in here,” Harper said, trying to change the subject and ease her dad’s sadness. “We may not have figured out how to break the curse yet, but there are definitely plenty of things in the journal to give Gemma hope.”
“But Thalia knew they were coming for her.” Brian pushed his plate aside, too interested in what his daughter was saying to eat anymore, and he rested his forearms on the table. “You said that, right? Why did they want to kill her? And how did she know they were coming for her?”
“I don’t know why they wanted to kill her, exactly. They might’ve just been looking for information. Muses kept a lot of secrets, so maybe they were torturing and killing them to find something out.
“But it wasn’t until after she came to Maryland that she began to worry about their finding her,” Harper realized, staring at the cover of the journal. “When she first met Bernie, she was in England, and she mentioned nothing about the sirens. It was when she came here, she began to fear them.”
“How did they end up in Maryland?”
“Didn’t Bernie ever tell you?” Harper asked.
“He said he was following Thalia,” Brian said. “But I never knew why she came here.”
“Thalia wanted to become mortal,” Harper explained. “Muses had all kinds of weird stipulations about love and how long they could be with someone, and she wanted to give all that up to be with Bernie. But she needed to find a god or goddess to help her.”
Brian took a sip from his coffee. “And that brought her to Capri?”
“She’d heard that Achelous was here, but he wasn’t.”
“Okay.” Brian nodded, but still looked confused. “And who is Achelous again?”
“He’s the freshwater god, and he happens to be the sirens’ father. Well, Penn and Thea’s, anyway.”
“So Thalia came here looking for the sirens’ dad, and the sirens are looking for her. That can’t be a coincidence.”
“No, I wouldn’t think so,” Harper agreed, thinking about what Professor Pine had said about coincidences. “But the thing is … Thalia never found him.”
“Found who?” Gemma yawned as she walked into the kitchen.
Harper glanced up at her sister, who had apparently just woken up. Her hair was coming loose from a sleep-disheveled bun, and she wore the same T-shirt and sweats she’d fallen asleep in last night.
“Achelous,” Harper answered, as Gemma sat down in the chair between her and their dad.
“Did you get any sleep?” Brian asked, eyeing his daughter. Gemma looked a little tired, but her siren beauty masked most of the signs, so it was hard to tell exactly how tired she might be.
“I got enough,” Gemma said, and she reached over and grabbed part of the pancake left on her dad’s plate. While Gemma didn’t strictly need human food any longer, she still had an appetite for it. Even though it no longer tasted nearly as good as when she was human, she had still managed to acquire a taste for it again. “Are you done with this?”
“Yeah, but I can make more,” Brian offered, but she was already taking a bite.
“I’m fine,” she said after she swallowed it down. “Achelous is dead. Lexi told me.”
“Yeah, but … Lexi was an idiot,” Harper pointed out.
“True.” Gemma licked her lips. “But she seemed convinced of it. And nobody’s seen Achelous in like two hundred years. So I’m inclined to think she was right.”
“So how did Thalia become mortal if she never found a god?” Brian asked.
“She didn’t find Achelous, but she did find a god,” Harper said. “Or a goddess, actually. Diana.”
Brian shook his head. “Who’s Diana?”
“Thalia only devotes a sentence or two to her in the journal.” Harper had reread the part about Diana at least fifty times, hoping it would provide new insight, and she quoted it verbatim for her dad: “It is with the aid of the goddess Diana that I am able to make the transformation from muse back to mortal. About her, I can say nothing more. She guards her privacy more fiercely even than I do.”
“That’s where this gets weird,” Gemma said, and she’d begun to perk up. She pulled her knees up to her chest and leaned forward on the table. “Diana is a Roman goddess of hunting and the moon and werewolves or something. She’s this strong feminist, and certain Wiccans worship her.”
“I thought it didn’t say anything more about her in the journal?” Brian asked.
“It doesn’t. In my recent research of all things mythological, I’ve been studying up on everything,” Gemma explained. “And I picked up some information about Diana. But that’s my point. She’s not a Greek goddess. She’s Roman.”
“So?” Harper shrugged, not seeing the weird part. “They’re similar. And Lydia mentioned Horace before, and he’s Egyptian. Just because the gods have a different etymology, it doesn’t mean they don’t exist. And beyond that, I would assume that different cultures had different names for the same god.”
“So this Diana goddess, is she still around here?” Brian asked.
“I don’t know,” Harper said. “I don’t think they ever were around here, per se.”
“Then what was Thalia doing here?” Brian asked.
“She came for Achelous. According to the journal, the last time anybody had seen him was here, and she was trying to find his trail,” Harper elaborated.
“But she didn’t find it because he’s dead,” Gemma added.
“Well, probably dead,” Harper said.
“Why Achelous, though?” Brian asked. “Why not any of the other gods or goddesses? There have to be a lot of them, right?”
“I don’t think there are really that many anymore, but Achelous always had a good relationship with the muses,” Harper said. “He actually fathered children with two of them.”
“Wait.” Brian held up his hand. “The muses are Penn’s and Thea’s mothers?”
“Right,” Harper said.
“So Thalia was their aunt?” Brian asked.
“Right. But I’m pretty sure they weren’t close,” Harper said. “In fact, from what I’ve gathered, the sirens have had no contact with any other of their family members in centuries.”
“Okay.” Brian thought about it for a second, and it must’ve satisfied him, because he said, “Just wanted to clarify. Now continue.”
“So Thalia’s in Capri, and she thinks that Achelous will help her beca
use he’s helped muses in the past. But she can’t find him. So she goes to this soothsayer—”
“What is a soothsayer?” Gemma asked, cutting Harper off.
“I don’t know exactly. I think it’s kind of like Lydia,” Harper said. “But that’s how Thalia referred to her.”
Then something occurred to Harper, and she flipped through the book, scanning the pages until she found the name she was looking for. “The soothsayer was named Audra Panning.” She looked up at Gemma. “Do you think she’s any relation to Lydia?”
“Yeah. Her last name is Panning, right? And she’s from Capri because she went to high school with Marcy.” Gemma nodded. “We should call Lydia right now.”
“I don’t have her number, and Marcy is coming over in”—Harper craned her neck to check the clock on the microwave—“like twenty minutes to get the book. She’s taking the journal out to Lydia’s so she can translate the back part of it, so Marcy can ask her then.”
Gemma pushed back her chair. “Well, I should get dressed, so I can go with her.”
“You can’t go with her,” Harper said. “You have the play today. Two shows.”
Gemma scoffed. “That’s dumb. I should be going out there instead of doing this stupid play. This is way more important.”
“You’re doing what you need to do right now, which is placate the sirens. That’s a really huge part of making this all work,” Harper told her calmly. “Because if they’re pissed off or suspicious … it’s not good for anyone.”
“You need to do what keeps you safe, Gemma,” Brian said, and his tone was much more firm than Harper’s had been. “And right now, that’s acting like everything’s normal. You need to do that, so you don’t draw attention to your friends, who are putting themselves at risk to solve this.”
“But I should be the one putting myself at risk,” Gemma insisted. “This is my problem, not theirs.”
Brian balled his hand up in a fist and slammed it down on the table, frightening both the girls. “I hate that I can’t protect you from this. It’s my job. You’re my little girl, and I’m supposed to…” He gritted his teeth and shook his head. “All I want to do is run up that hill and beat the hell out of those girls for getting you into this mess. And I know I’m not supposed to say that, because I’m your dad, and I shouldn’t condone violence, especially not on girls.
Elegy w-4 Page 10
