THIRTY-THREE Anathema

“With who?” Harper asked, and by the tone of her voice, Gemma knew she feared that it was Daniel.

The truth was that Gemma herself wasn’t sure if Penn really loved him or what exactly she wanted with him. She knew that whatever it was, it couldn’t be good, but she didn’t think that was what Diana was referring to now.

“Bastian,” Gemma said, remembering the story that Thea had told her. Penn had apparently been deeply infatuated with him, and Gemma suspected that Thea had had feelings for him, too, though she denied it.

“Bastian was the name he was going by at the time, but Orpheus was his given name, the one I knew him by,” Diana said. “I sent him to her.”

“What? Why?” Harper asked.

“To break her heart, of course,” Diana said, and smiled like this delighted her. “He was immortal, immune to her song, and that novelty intrigued her. I’d known him for some time, and he was a very attractive man, renowned for making the ladies swoon. With a little flirtation on his part, I thought he might finally be the one to make Penn feel something.”

“And he did,” Gemma said.

“And then he left her. Just as I asked him to.” Her smile faded a bit as she thought. “Though I’m not sure what became of him since I’ve never heard from him again. Once he left, he disappeared, presumably going into hiding before Penn found him and wreaked her vengeance on him.”

“But Penn didn’t really love him,” Gemma reminded Diana. “She’s not even capable of it.”

“She’s not, at least not the way most living creatures are,” Diana admitted. “But what she felt for him was more than she’d felt before. He never loved her, it was just a trick. I’d sent him on the mission to fool the selfish girl. She would never feel his love in return, no matter what she did or how she lusted after him. And then he left, and she was devastated.”

“Why? If she didn’t really love him?” Marcy asked.

“This was as close to love as she could feel,” Diana clarified. “For her, this was everything. And she was a girl who’d gotten everything she wanted for so long. When she finally lost something, something that really mattered to her, she had no idea what to do.”

“So you’ve won then. She hurt the way you hurt,” Gemma said.

No.” Diana was appalled by the idea. “It’s not enough to lose someone, to hurt. It’s the pain, day in and day out. It’s the constant reminder. This is why I gave her immortality. I wanted her to feel this way forever.”

“But she doesn’t seem that devastated anymore. She seems fine,” Harper said. “She even has her sights set on another guy.”

“Oh?” Diana raised an eyebrow but didn’t seem that ruffled. “Is he mortal?”

“Yes, he’s my boyfriend.” Harper shook her head and lowered her eyes. “Or ex-boyfriend, maybe.”

“Good,” Diana said. “He’ll be dead soon, and she’ll feel the pain anew.”

“No, not good.” Harper glared at her. “I don’t want him to be dead soon.”

“I don’t mean to say that she’ll kill him, or that I hope she does, although she probably will,” Diana expounded on her earlier statement without any hint of apology or sympathy for Harper’s pain. “Human life is very short compared to ours, and too soon, you’ll all be gone.”

“She’s happy. She’s with someone again,” Gemma persisted. “How do you even know she was devastated? Penn still gets everything she wants and does anything she pleases. It’s not a curse you’ve given her.”

“For centuries, the sirens lived rather quietly and inconspicuously among people,” Diana said. “Then, after her love left, she went on a mad rampage. Thousands of people were killed at the sirens’ hands, with Penn leading the wave, of course.”

“That’s your proof that she was devastated?” Marcy asked. “Penn strikes me as the kind of girl who enjoys killing people, so that sounds like it was a big, ol’, happy, fun-time party for her.”

“This was different,” Diana insisted. “And she killed her father.”

“She killed Achelous?” Gemma asked, but that didn’t come as much of a shock to her. She’d suspected he was dead, and Penn killed her sisters without hesitation.

“So many had died, both mortal and immortal, and finally, Achelous had enough,” Diana said. “He knew something must be done about his daughter, but she wanted nothing to do with him. No matter how hard he tried to reach out to her, his invitations went unanswered.

“Finally, to summon her, he built her a town,” she went on. “He named it after her favorite place, the island she’d grown up on. He wanted to create a paradise for her and his other daughters. The girls were right to be angry with him. He had been a very neglectful father, but he’d decided to change his ways, mend fences, and stop the bloodshed.”

“Wait, wait.” Marcy held her hands up in the shape of a T for timeout. “You’re talking about Capri, Maryland, aren’t you? Achelous was Thomas Thermopolis?”

And as soon as Marcy said it, it all made sense. Capri, Anthemusa Bay, Achelous River—these were all named after the places the sirens had lived according to Greek historians. It did seem a bit too coincidental that they would just happen onto a place that fit perfectly into their own mythology.

Diana nodded. “Yes. He told me of his plans, and I tried to talk him out of it, but he was insistent. He told me I was jealous and blinded by the loss of my own daughter, and maybe there was truth to that. But Penn had always been evil and always would be. So when she finally did come, it came as no surprise to me that within a few weeks, the sirens had killed him.”

“They killed their own father?” Harper asked. “Why? After all this time?”

“Because for the first time, Penn hurt, truly hurt, and she blamed him for it, for not protecting her,” Diana said. “She blamed me, too, and maybe he wouldn’t tell them where I was hiding. He never truly believed they would kill him. He wasn’t afraid of them, and that was his undoing.”

“Nope.” Marcy shook her head. “I can’t move past that. He built Capri for Penn and her sisters?”

“He wanted to set things right, but I knew that could never be,” Diana said. “Penn will never be anything but evil.”

“So you granted her immortality and horrific powers,” Gemma said. “That seems reasonable and really fair to every other creature living on the earth.”

“I don’t care if she destroys the entire planet, as long as she’s miserable,” Diana said.

“But you lost your daughter!” Harper shouted, unable to hide her anger and frustration any longer. “You know how badly that hurts! And how many other people will have to lose their daughters because of something you created? I will have to lose my sister, my father his daughter, because of a vendetta that’s thousands of years old? Hasn’t there been enough bloodshed? Haven’t enough people hurt and died for Persephone yet?”

“I understand your pain, but the horrible truth is that it will never be enough. No matter what hell Penn goes through, it will never bring my daughter back. So no, she hasn’t suffered enough.” A harsh acrimony stung Diana’s words. “She will never suffer enough.”

“Why are you so focused on Penn?” Lydia asked. She’d been mostly content to let the others steer the conversation, but this, apparently, had been bothering her. “There were four girls who left Persephone alone that day, four girls you cursed.”

“The other two are dead, and they were little more than collateral damage. Just as you are now.” Diana motioned to Gemma then. “In order for Penn and Thelxiepia to be truly punished, I had to take the others down with them.”

“Thelkispediplipa?” Marcy asked, stumbling over the name. “That’s Thea, right?”

“Thea?” Diana said, then nodded. “Unlike Penn, Thea did actually love. She cared deeply for her sisters, and seeing them suffer was her punishment. In truth, the worst of my wrath was saved for Thea.”

“Why? She’s nowhere near as evil as Penn,” Gemma pointed out.

“That is precisely why,” Diana said. “She knew that what she was doing was wrong. She even cared for Persephone, but not enough to keep her safe. Not enough to deny Penn her pleasures to protect my daughter. If Penn was rotten fruit, Thea was the one who watered the tree.”

“All that it takes for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing,” Lydia said softly, and Diana nodded again.

“That’s why I sent Bastian to seduce Thea, too. But I told him to favor Penn, so that it would break Thea’s heart worst of all. I was hoping maybe she would stand up to her sister, fight for something she loved, but she never did.”

“She never will,” Gemma whispered.

After all she’d seen Penn do, Thea had done little more than step aside and watch it happen. Even when the sisters she claimed to love were murdered, Thea never acted to help them. She’d done nothing but obey until very recently.

Thea had begun to help Gemma, and that was a tremendous act of betrayal against Penn and showed a change growing within her. By giving Gemma the scroll, Thea had proven that she was willing to die to stop Penn, and yet her only attempts at undermining Penn had involved sneaking around behind her back.

It seemed that while Thea was on Gemma’s side, the only thing she truly feared in life wasn’t death but confronting Penn. She would do nearly whatever it took to help Gemma and break the curse, except for standing up to her sister.

“So it seems,” Diana agreed.

“Not to belabor the point, but Achelous really made our town for the sirens?” Marcy asked. “Then why don’t they spend all their time there? Why don’t they love it if it’s supposed to be some kind of siren paradise?”

“Because they hate their father,” Gemma said.

Marcy shook her head. “Then why did they come back?”

“For me,” Diana said. “They were looking for the muse Thalia, hoping she would lead them to me.”

“She’s going to kill you, you know,” Harper said pointedly, and she was so irritated and enraged, Gemma was afraid she might get up soon and slap Diana. “If we could find you, eventually Penn and Thea will, too. And they’ll kill you. You do understand that.”

“I do. And I’ve made peace with it.” Diana looked out the window again. “Maybe I even welcome death. That’s why I’ve made my home so close to Capri. It’s far enough inland that Penn won’t readily travel here, but close enough that it really won’t make it that hard to find.” She breathed in deeply. “Forever is too long for anyone to live.”

“If she kills you, you won’t even see your revenge exacted,” Gemma said. “If you won’t even be here to watch them suffer, then why not end this? Why not let it go?”

“Or just let my sister go,” Harper interjected. “She’s not like them. She didn’t do anything to you or your daughter. Isn’t there a way that she can break free?”

Diana shook her head. “No. The curse binds them all together. I’ve already told you that I won’t help you break the curse.”

“But that’s only because you want to see Penn suffer.” An idea occurred to Gemma, and she licked her lips. “What if I killed Penn? Then would you tell me how to break it?”

Still staring out the window, Diana said, “If you tried to kill Penn, then you wouldn’t need to break the curse.”

“Why?” Gemma asked, and her heart pounded so loudly in her chest, she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to hear Diana’s reply over the sound of it. “What do you mean?”

Diana didn’t say anything right away, then the bell above the front door of the store chimed loudly.

“I think this visit has gone on quite long enough, and I now have customers to attend to.” Diana stood up. “If you’ll excuse me, you can show yourselves out.”

Gemma jumped to her feet. “No, Diana, please. If I kill Penn, is the curse broken?”

“I’ve already given you my answer,” Diana said as she continued toward the door.

“Diana!” Harper shouted, and chased after her. “You can’t just leave it like this. You can’t just walk away!”

“Harper.” Lydia grabbed Harper’s arm, stopping her from running out of the sitting room. “That’s enough. She’s helped as much as she’s going to.”

“We could hold her hostage and make her tell us,” Marcy suggested from where she sat on the floor, still petting Thallo.

“There’s nothing we have that could hold her if she didn’t want to be held, and that’s not how we do things,” Lydia said. “If she doesn’t want to help us, we can’t make her.”

Diana had gone back into the store, but Gemma couldn’t just let it go. Not like that. She chased after her, and when Diana wouldn’t stop, she grabbed the billowy sleeve of her dress, forcing Diana to turn back to her.

“No. It can’t end like this,” Gemma begged her, and she was near tears. “Demeter, please.”

They were nearly hidden underneath the dangling flowers and vines from the potted plants above them, but from the corner of her eye, Gemma could see the new customers. They were still far enough away that they wouldn’t hear them, but they were coming closer.

Diana stared down at her, her green eyes tired, but there was a new anger that flickered behind them. But Gemma refused to look away or let go of her, not until she got an answer.

“One of the other girls, Aglaope, she came sniffing around. It must’ve been … five years back,” Diana said finally, apparently seeing that Gemma wouldn’t leave without something. “She never found me, but she got close enough when I heard that she’d been looking.

“I’d always liked her,” she went on. “She was kind and loving, but in order for Thea to be punished, Aglaope had to be punished even worse. It pained me to hurt her like that, but her anguish was a means to an end, and oh, how she’d anguished under Penn’s cruel rule for thousands of years.

“But when she came looking for me, looking for a way out, I ignored her. I liked her, pitied her, and she’d been tortured plenty, but her cries went unheeded. And if I wouldn’t help her, what makes you think I would help someone as insignificant as you?”

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