Elegy

THIRTY-FOUR Renunciation

All Gemma could think about was getting out to the water. Their flight home had been delayed for hours. It was well after five in the morning by the time they got home, and she had barely made it. Her migraine had gotten so bad, she’d thrown up twice on the way back.

When they got back to Capri, instead of taking them home, she had Marcy drop her off at the bay. If she didn’t get into the water soon, Gemma was certain she would die. She felt even worse than when she’d been at Sawyer’s beach house and refused to eat, and her hair was falling out in clumps.

Fortunately, it was still dark out, but the sky was beginning to lighten. To be safe, she steered clear of the beaches, which would be filling up with tourists much too soon. Instead, she went down to the rocky shore along the cypress trees, where the bay began to curve toward the cove.

The jagged edges of the rocks jabbed through the thin bottoms of her flip-flops, but Gemma barely noticed. The watersong blotted out everything else. Stripping off her shorts, panties, and shirt, she stepped out into the water wearing only her bra.

As soon as the saltwater hit her skin, splashing over her feet and ankles as she waded out into the depths of the bay, sweet relief rushed over her. The pain that had been so agonizing drifted away as her skin began to flutter, her flesh shifting into the smooth, iridescent scales of a fish.

She dove out into the waves, swimming as fast as she could, pushing herself away from the land and deeper into the water, which had finally, mercifully, stopped calling for her.

It was then, with her body feeling fresh and rejuvenated and without the song clogging up her thoughts, that Gemma was able to feel the full ramifications of her visit with Diana and how truly defeated she was.

All the way back from Charleston, as a barely conscious Gemma had struggled not to throw up or sob, she’d heard Harper rambling on excitedly about all the things this could mean. They could kill Penn, and that would set Gemma free.

Or they could figure out what to do with the ink. Harper was certain there must be a way to erase it or something, even though both she and Gemma had tried exposing it to every liquid imaginable without any success. Even through her sick haze, Gemma suspected that Harper was fooling herself. But her sister seemed so excited and happy, Gemma couldn’t bear to take it away.

While Gemma had been curled up on the hard chairs of the airport, Lydia had been sitting next to her, typing on her tablet. Harper and Marcy had gone to get something to eat, but Gemma felt too nauseated to eat anything.

“Dammit,” Lydia muttered. “I think she was lying.”

Gemma turned a bit so she could look up at her. “Who was lying?”

“Diana.”

“What do you mean?” Gemma pushed herself up so she was sitting even though that made the room spin and tip to the side.

“I’ve been messaging my friend, Kipling Pine. He’s the professor at Sundham that Harper talked to about the scroll,” Lydia explained. “He’s visiting a friend of his who’s a linguistics expert, and he’s superknowledgeable about dead languages.”

“And that means Diana is lying?” Gemma asked.

“Okay, before I tell you that, I need to explain how we translate the scroll.” Lydia turned in her seat to face her fully. “We think it’s ancient Cypriot, but it seems to be a more informal type and takes some liberties, and we need to try to translate that back into English, and that’s if we can even get it into Cypriot in the first place.”

“You already told me some of this when I showed you the scroll the first time,” Gemma reminded her.

“I know, but I really need to reiterate.” Her large eyes were gravely serious. “Even with me, Pine, and this other expert working on it, we will never have a one-hundred-percent-concrete translation. I mean, scholars still debate some of the translations in the Bible, and they’ve been working on that for hundreds of years.”

“But you guys have translated some of the scroll, right?” Gemma asked. “That’s what this is about.”

“They’ve come up with a partial cryptographic key—which is basically saying what symbol means what letter, and with that, they’re kind of guessing and going on intuition and their knowledge of Greek words to fill in the blanks. Pine’s finished a passage, and he just sent it to me, and…” Lydia sighed and looked back down at her tablet. “I’ll just read it to you.”

“It starts with, ‘Four of them there must always be.’ And then, we think the next four words are names, but the translation is a bit rough. So what we think it says is, ‘Peisinoe, Thelxiepia, Aglaope, and Ligea/Begin the curse but do not need to be at the end/One can replace one by any mortal who is…’”

Lydia frowned and shook her head before continuing. “Pine’s saying ‘granted’ here, but I’m not sure if that’s right. But ‘cursed’ doesn’t seem to fit either. But it ends with something about having ‘the power of the siren.’”

“Let me see it.” Gemma leaned over the tablet, and she had to squint to read, since her vision had blurred so badly.

Four of them there must always be

Peisinoe, Thelxiepia, Aglaope, and Ligea

Begin the curse but do not need to be at the end

One can replace one by any mortal

Granted with the power of the siren

Gemma read it three times, but the watersong blocked out rational thought, and she couldn’t seem to process it.

“What does all that mean?” she asked, looking up at Lydia.

“That as long as there are four of them, it doesn’t matter who they are. Any of them can be replaced.” Lydia shook her head sadly. “Even Penn.”

“So why would Diana say that?” Gemma rubbed her forehead and slouched in the seat. “She said if I killed Penn, the curse would be broken. Why would she lie about that? We were about to leave anyway.”

“Maybe she didn’t lie,” Lydia said.

“But with the scroll—”

“No, I mean Diana said, ‘If you tried to kill Penn, then you wouldn’t need to break the curse,’” Lydia recited carefully. “Maybe she just meant that if you tried to kill Penn, you’d lose.”

“Diana knows I’m young, I probably appeared weak, and she rightfully assumed that if I was capable of killing Penn, I already would have.” Gemma lay back down on the seats and squeezed her eyes shut. “So if I went up against Penn, she would kill me, and when I’m dead, I’m free of the curse.”

“But that could be wrong,” Lydia said, trying to sound hopeful. “I mean, Pine’s still working on these translations. We’re not finished, and like I said, we could’ve misread them.”

Now, as Gemma swam the cold depths of the ocean, the futility of it hit her hard. Diana/Demeter had been their last big hope, and she had been a bust. The big clue she’d given them had been nothing more than a taunt.

The joy of being in the water had given way to a familiar desperation and an ever-growing hunger. Her practice transformations had the unfortunate side effect of making her hunger stronger, and the day away from Capri, battling the watersong, hadn’t helped either.

It was September now, and the autumnal equinox was only weeks away. Gemma would have to feed soon, or she really risked losing control, especially if she wanted to keep practicing her transformations.

She’d begun to suspect that part of the reason she’d been so crazed when she’d killed Jason Way was because she’d been starving. That’s why she had a better handle on the monster now, and probably why Liv seemed to have a better grasp of morphing. Liv ate constantly, so she was never really hungry, and that probably made her better at control when she shifted in and out of the monster.

As Gemma was swimming, plunging down in the darkness at the bottom of the ocean floor, frightening the fish and crabs lingering at the bottom, she felt something following her. A shadow stayed behind her, and Gemma sped up. The last thing she needed was to get in a fight with a shark this morning.

But no matter how fast she went, the dark shape in the water stayed behind her. Gemma had swum out past the bay, but now she circled back, heading toward land. She didn’t glance back, but she felt it gaining on her. An electricity in the current, the subtle shifts of the approaching predator, spurred her on.

The land was too far, but a large rock jutted out of the bay. Gemma raced toward it, and she pushed herself out of the water and gripped crevices in the stone. Her torso was completely above water, but her fish tail was submerged. It would be slippery, deadweight if she tried to haul herself out, and she finally looked back before beginning the climb up the rock.

Penn surfaced from the water, laughing in a way that sounded like the cackling of a crow. “Oh, Gemma, you’re so funny when you’re scared.”

Gemma relaxed, but she still hung on to the rock. “I thought you were a shark.”

“You’re lucky I’m not,” Penn said as she floated next to her. “Or I’d be devouring you right now.”

“Why were you following me?”

“I wanted to find out how things went yesterday.” Her full lips were pressed into a blood-red thin smile. “How was your little adventure?”

Gemma looked toward the shore and pushed her wet hair out of her face. The sky above them had really started to lighten, turning purple and pink in anticipation of the sunrise.

“What are you talking about?” Gemma asked at last.

“You went somewhere yesterday, somewhere away from the water.”

“How do you know?”

“We can feel it. We know whenever anyone gets too far away,” Penn said. “You could die, and I’ll have to come up with another replacement.”

Gemma rolled her eyes. “And I know how you’d hate to replace me.”

“Where were you?” Penn asked, but it sounded more like a demand.

“I told Thea. I went to Sundham to visit Harper.”

“Sundham’s not that far inland.” Penn narrowed her eyes as her black hair pooled in the water around her. The water was at her chin, and Penn had never looked more like a sea monster.

Gemma shrugged. “Well, that’s where I was, so I don’t know what to tell you.”

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, Gemma, but it’s a very dangerous game. You don’t want to mess with me.”

“I’m not,” she insisted.

“So then tell me where you went?”

Meeting Penn’s gaze defiantly, she said, “No.”

Penn pushed herself above the waves, balancing on her tail so her entire torso was showing and she could stare imposingly down at Gemma. “I am so sick of this. I have enough going on with Liv, and this whole rebellious act of yours is getting old. You need to learn your place.”

Gemma’s fangs were itching in her mouth, and she decided not to try to contain them. She might not be strong enough to kill Penn, but there was only one way she’d know for sure. And she was sick of dealing with Penn, sick of being a siren, sick of dreading the next time she’d have to feed, so even if she couldn’t stop Penn, at least Penn would stop her.

One of them would die today. It almost didn’t even matter to Gemma anymore which one it was, as long as this was over.

Gemma smiled as she spoke, revealing her jagged fangs. “Maybe it’s time for you to learn your place.”

“You little bitch,” Penn said, smiling wider. “Bring it.”