Elegy (A Watersong Novel) (10 page)

“Crap,” Gemma said. “It’s in Greek or something again.”

“Maybe it can help Lydia with the translation she’s working on,” Marcy suggested.

“We could bring it out to her tonight,” Gemma said. “See if she can make anything out of it.”

“You can’t,” Daniel said. He’d been reading over her shoulder, but he took a step back now.

“What? Why not?” Gemma asked.

“
The Taming of the Shrew
opens tonight. Remember?” he asked.

She waved him off. “No, I have an understudy or something. I need to stay and read this.”

“No, you need to go be in the play,” Daniel said.

“That’s insane.” Gemma shook her head. “This could be the piece we’ve been looking for.”

“You can’t even understand all of it,” Daniel said. “And if you skip the play, Thea and Penn will know something’s up, and that could be bad news. You don’t want them breathing down your neck while you’re trying to figure out this journal.”

Gemma sighed. “Good point.”

“Thank you,” Daniel said. “Now come on. I’ll take you guys back to the mainland.”

Gemma grumbled, but she did as she was told. On the boat ride back, she sat down in the sleeping quarters, safely away from the spray that might damage Thalia’s journal. She sat cross-legged on the bed and decided to read the parts she could decipher, and she started from the beginning.

In big letters in blotchy dark ink, Thalia had written an important inscription on the back of the front cover:

My dearest Bernard—if ANYTHING happens to me, you need to dispose of this. Nobody can ever find the secrets I’ve kept within these pages. It could be dangerous if in the wrong hands. For your safety, please destroy this.

NINE

Understudy

Behind the closed door emblazoned with a fallen starlet’s name, Gemma leaned in front of the mirror, applying thick eyeliner. Outside in the hall, she could hear people scrambling around to get ready for the first show, starting in twenty minutes.

In the reflection, Gemma glanced over at Thea. Like Gemma, Thea already had her costume on, but unlike Gemma, she already had all her makeup on, too. Her crimson hair was piled up in loose curls, and her lipstick was nearly the same shade.

“Are you nervous?” Thea asked when her emerald eyes met Gemma’s in the mirror.

“What?” Gemma lowered her eyes and pretended to dig around for her blush in the oversized makeup case that sat on the counter. “No. Not really.”

“Good.” Thea leaned forward, inspecting her reflection more closely, and tucked back a curl that had fallen loose. “You don’t need to be. Even if you forget a line or botch a scene, everyone will still love you.”

“How does that work?” Gemma asked. “Will the whole audience be completely enraptured with you and me?”

Thea shrugged and sat back in her chair. “If we were singing, maybe. But by now you have to understand it. We have a natural talent for attracting attention, but when you project and try, your charms are that much more charming.”

“Let’s say you were trying. Could you captivate the whole crowd?” Gemma asked as she applied her blush more heavily than she normally would. The lights from the stage required darker makeup to show up.

“If I wanted to, yes.” Thea’s eyes narrowed behind her long lashes. “What are you getting at? Are you planning on raising a small army?”

“No. I just don’t completely understand how the siren song works.” Gemma set aside her makeup and turned to face Thea directly, so they weren’t talking to each other through the mirror.

“It’s simple. You sing, you control whoever hears the song.”

“But for how long?” Gemma asked, trying to keep her words from sounding as desperate and hopeful as they felt.

Ever since her heated visit with Alex yesterday, Gemma hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what it meant. Why did kissing him seem to have a positive effect on him? And why wasn’t he angry and filled with hate anymore?

She’d assumed that once the siren song was in place, it would be that way forever. But with Alex, something else was going on.

Unless, of course, it was just as she’d feared, and Alex had fallen out of love with her on his own.

“It depends. The more you mean it, the more you project, the longer the effects of the song will be active,” Thea explained.

“But eventually they will fade?” Gemma pressed.

“Sorta.” Thea shook her head, like that wasn’t exactly how she would put it. “Like with Sawyer. Penn told him that he loved her, and he had to give us his house. If he hadn’t died, and she’d left him, eventually he would’ve stopped being infatuated and obsessed with her. But he would still believe the house was hers even if he lived to be ninety.”

Gemma leaned back in her seat, letting out a crestfallen breath. “I don’t understand. If he was still following her orders, and she ordered him to love her, how is he able to stop?”

“The siren song is all about giving orders. Do this, don’t do that, give me this, go there,” Thea elaborated. “But Demeter made it precisely so it had no effect over the heart. It can’t change who a person is. If you hate peach cobbler, the siren song can make you eat it, even smile as you chow it down, but you’ll never actually like it.”

“But what if you keep eating peach cobbler? Will you remember you hate it?” Gemma asked.

“If there’s not a siren constantly whispering in your ear, telling you that you love it, then yes, you probably would.” Thea paused, and when she spoke again, her voice was lower and huskier than normal. “Love and hate are very powerful emotions that sirens have no control over, no matter how much Penn likes to pretend we do.”

“So when Penn commanded Sawyer to love her, he never really did,” Gemma said, affirming what she’d always known. As soon as she’d been cursed, the sirens had told her that mortal men could never love them. “He just acted the way a person in love with her would act.”

“And Penn does know that. She just finds that people are easier to control when they believe they’re in love with her.”

“Your heart doesn’t change. You still love or don’t love who you always have,” Gemma said to herself, her words quiet and breathy, and Thea cocked her head.

Yes, the sirens told her that men would never love her, but Alex had. He’d been able to because he always had, and maybe he still did. The siren song couldn’t change the way he felt about her, and when she kissed him, it helped remind him of how he really felt, of who he really was, and it dragged him out from underneath the fog of the spell.

After all of this, he might still love her, and as the realization hit Gemma, she couldn’t help but smile.

A loud knocking interrupted her elation, and she turned to see her dad pushing open the
Marilyn
door to the dressing room.

“I hope we’re not intruding,” Harper said as she squeezed in beside their dad.

He nearly gasped when Gemma smiled up at him, and his words were barely audible when he said, “You look so much like Nathalie.”

She lowered her eyes, and her cheeks flushed a little. “Aw, thanks, Dad.”

Thea looked at Harper in the mirror, her green eyes flat. “Hello, Gemma’s family.”

“Hey, Thea.” Harper smiled thinly at her.

“Hello, Thea,” Brian said, nearly growling at her, and Gemma saw his hand clench into a fist at his side.

Brian knew what Thea was now, that she and Penn were sirens. His natural instinct was to yell at them and tell them to leave his daughter alone, but since their siren song could still work on him, Harper and Gemma tried to get him to interact with them as little as possible. That was hard for him sometimes, especially at times like this, when all he really wanted to do was wring Thea’s neck.

“I’d invite you in, but it’s so crowded.” Gemma gestured over to Thea, but it was their costumes hanging along the wall that took up the most space in the cramped room. “Did Marcy talk to you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harper said quickly, probably not wanting Thea to catch on that they were talking about finding Thalia’s journal. The less Thea knew about what they were doing, the safer it would be for her if Penn were to question her. “Marcy’s here, actually.”

Marcy had been lingering in the hall since it was so crowded in the dressing room, but she leaned around the doorframe. “Are you gonna yak?”

“No, Marcy, I don’t think I’m going to throw up, but thanks for that lovely euphemism.” Gemma smirked.

“Marcy, why don’t you and my dad go find our seats? I want to sneak back behind the sets and say hello to Daniel real quick,” Harper said.

“Good idea. We’ll let you finish getting ready.” Brian turned back to Gemma. “Knock ’em dead, sweetie.” He bent down and kissed her quickly on the temple before departing.

“We just wanted to wish you good luck,” Harper said, and started backing out the doorway.

“Thanks, Harper.” Gemma smiled gratefully up at her.

“You can wait here for one minute,” Penn insisted from out in the hall. Under her usual sultry velvet tone, Gemma could hear the irritation in it, and she stood up so she could look past Harper out to the hallway.

It wasn’t until Penn pushed past the assistant director and reached the doorway to the dressing room that Gemma finally understood why. Liv was trailing at her heels, her large eyes looking petulant and her mouth turned down in a tight scowl, and Gemma’s heart froze in her chest.

“Oh, good, you’re all here.” Penn’s face flushed with relief, her full lips turned up into a smile, then her dark eyes settled on Harper. “I think you two know each other, so it’d be fine if Liv waited here with you, right?”

“I…” Harper trailed off, too stunned to say anything, and her hand went to her throat.

“Great!” Penn clapped her hands together, then turned to Liv. “Stay here. Don’t move at all. I just wanna go backstage for a minute, and I don’t need you getting in my way.”

Liv rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” Once Penn was gone, disappearing into the crowd in the hallway, Liv turned back to Harper. Her irritation melted away, and her aw-shucks grin spread across her face.

“Liv?” Harper asked once she found her voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Just coming to see the play with Penn,” Liv told her in a voice that was all peaches and cream. “How are you doing?”

“Who the hell cares how I’m doing?” Harper hissed. “What are you doing here?”

“Notice anything different about me?” Liv asked, then twirled around for her.

Harper gaped at Liv, and the color drained from her face. “You’re the new siren.”

“Sorry, Harper, I was gonna tell you,” Gemma offered lamely.

Harper stepped into the dressing room, deliberately leaving Liv alone in the hall before slamming the door shut behind her. Harper crossed her arms over her chest and glared down at Gemma, making her feel small and guilty.

“How long has my college roommate been a siren?” Harper asked, her tone harsh.

“Former roommate,” Thea corrected her. “She dropped out because she sucks.”

Gemma shrugged, trying to seem calm and nonchalant. “I don’t know when she became a siren. A few days ago?”

“It was on Friday,” Thea supplied.

“Harper.” Gemma took a deep breath and looked at her apologetically. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Liv being a siren sooner. But I have to be onstage in like ten minutes, so can we talk about this later?”

“Whatever. Fine.” Harper sighed.

“As soon as the after-party wraps up.”

“An after-party?” Harper raised an eyebrow.

Gemma waved her hands, trying to emphasize that it was no big thing. “Yeah, the mayor’s putting on this whole big thing because his son is in the play, and I’m going.”

“You can come, too, if you want,” Thea said. “Friends and family of the cast are invited.”

“Thanks,
Thea,
” Harper said, giving Gemma a hard look since she hadn’t bothered to extend the invitation.

Gemma looked up at her, her eyes pleading with her. “Can you please go find your seat, and we’ll talk about this later?”

“Okay. Fine.” Harper tried to put aside her anger and took a deep breath. “You look nice. And good luck.”

“Thank you.” Gemma smiled up at her, and Harper left her to finish getting ready.

TEN

Revelry

This was the last place Gemma wanted to be. She should be at home, going through Thalia’s journal or trying to decipher the scroll. But even if there weren’t far more pressing matters waiting for her elsewhere, she still wouldn’t have wanted to come to the after-party.

“They have an ice sculpture?” Marcy asked, eyeing the frozen swan on the center of the hors d’oeuvres table. “Who has an ice sculpture at a summer event?”

“I don’t know,” Gemma said. “But you know the deal—we just have to stay here long enough for Penn to see us, so I look like I’m acting normal and having a good time. Then we can bail.”

Once the play had finished, and Gemma had gotten changed into her regular clothes, she and Marcy walked over to the hotel while Harper stayed behind to wait for Daniel. Mayor Crawford had rented out the ballroom and had it all done up for the party. It had been decorated with twinkling lights and bouquets of flowers on each table, along with the ice swan.

“Where is she anyway?” Marcy asked. “Or Thea or Liv, for that matter?”

“I don’t know,” Gemma admitted, and made her way toward the appetizer table, smiling politely at an older woman who told her she’d done a great job in the play. “With my luck, they’re probably not even coming, and I showed up for no reason. Maybe we should just bail.”

“No way. I just got a plateful of shrimp.” She held up her plate to show Gemma. “I’m staying. Do you think the drinks are free?”

“No clue.” Gemma’d picked up a plate, so she grabbed a couple crab puffs.

As she was leaving the table, a couple other people came up to congratulate her on her performance. She thanked them, but as soon as they were gone, she made a beeline for the edge of the room, where she could linger in the dim light without having to make small talk, and Marcy followed her, probably also equally happy to avoid it.