The Cassandra Curse

by Chantel Acevedo

  The pelicans barked at us. I thought I saw the glimmer of teeth.

  Both things were happening at once—siren magic and muse magic. Nia’s muse magic, in fact. She’d taken one look at that whale and inspired all of us to set it free. In the name of science, of course.

  Otto was now just a few feet away. He seemed to be peering at us with one giant eye. Opening his mouth, he revealed a row of sharp white teeth and the largest, pinkest tongue I’ve ever seen. With one abrupt thrust of his jaw he sent gallons of water in our direction.

  We might as well have jumped in the tank, we were that wet. Above us, the pelicans had gotten drenched too, and they shrieked off across the bay.

  Nia coughed. She looked all around her, as if she was surprised to find herself on the ramp. “Did that whale just spit on me?” she asked. Her eyes were deep brown again.

  I hugged her hard. Thalia did, too. “You’re back,” I said.

  “Never do that again,” Thalia said. Nia looked shaky, and in fact, her hands were trembling.

  “To think, you didn’t even need your app this time,” Mela said.

  Nia tried to smile, but grimaced instead.

  But she was okay. The orca was still in his too-small tank, the tourists were staring at us with open mouths, and we were very glad it was over.

  That is, until the trainers reached us, escorted us down the ramp, and handed us all over to Sea-a-Rama’s security guards.

  Chapter 25

  The Muse Council

  Maya, Mela, Thalia, Nia, and I were taken to an office behind the Sea-a-Rama gift shop. They made us sit on a wooden bench with a single pair of metal handcuffs attached to it, but they didn’t bother trying to put them on one of us.

  “This is where they put shoplifters,” Maya said darkly.

  “We tried to steal a whale, so it makes sense,” Mela said.

  “It’s a dolphin, not a whale,” Maya added.

  “I can’t believe they put us in Whale Jail,” Thalia said.

  Nia was leaning forward, her hands over her face. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled into her palms. “I don’t know what got into me.”

  “I do. Siren song,” Thalia said, and I coughed loudly.

  Maya wasn’t fooled though. “Sirens?” she asked.

  “Inside joke,” I said, and Maya’s face fell a little. I wondered how often she felt that way—excluded. It didn’t feel good. I thought about all the times I had excluded her in the past, like when we were picking teams in PE, or choosing a table in the cafetorium at lunchtime. A pang of guilt made my stomach flip.

  “Not just that,” Nia said. “It was me, too. I was so angry about Otto. It’s not right how they keep him there. I lost focus,” she said, her eyes falling on Maya.

  Suddenly, Ms. Rinse opened the door, followed by a man in a suit. My whole body went cold. “Girls,” she said. “You cannot understand the depth of my disappointment. There will be consequences for all of you, not the least of which,” she paused dramatically here and looked at each of us in turn, “not the least of which is that I’m disqualifying Maya from the county science fair.”

  “No!” we all shouted at once, except for Maya, who only slumped in her seat.

  “Aaaaaaaand,” Ms. Rinse said, her hands on her hips now, “you all have detention with Ms. Fovos for two weeks. You’re lucky that Mr. Dale here isn’t pressing charges.”

  “Now, now.” Mr. Dale spoke up at last, but didn’t add anything else, as if “now, now” was all he could muster in the moment. He had on a name tag that read MANAGER.

  “Please, Ms. Rinse. Detention is fine, but don’t disqualify Maya. She’s a scientist. The world needs her,” I said, focusing hard on the teacher, waiting for that tingling sensation that told me I was drawing on muse magic, hoping to inspire Ms. Rinse to relent.

  She stared at me for a moment, faltering. “Well,” she began to say, then shook her head. “My mind is made up.”

  I concentrated on my hands, and yes, there it was, that strange buzzing sensation. Except it hadn’t really worked. It was as if my kódikas had been put on a dimmer switch. I glanced out the window and scanned the sky for birds, but it was blue and empty. I felt a little nauseous. Maybe I was catching something.

  Meanwhile, Mr. Dale had started pacing the room strangely, twirling the pen faster and faster, as if he were deep in thought.

  Ms. Rinse called out to him. “Mr. Dale? Mr. Dale? Are you all right?”

  But Mr. Dale waved her off. “I’m thinking,” he said, then started to chew on the pen as he paced.

  “What about Otto?” Nia asked. She was sitting up very straight, her hands in her lap, rubbing them together hard. Beads of sweat formed on her upper lip. She chewed on the inside of her cheek. Nia was using her muse magic again, tapping her kódikas without an app to summon it.

  Mr. Dale stopped. “That’s what I’m considering, young lady. Your passion today has . . . inspired me. We need to find a solution for Otto. Find a way to return him to his pod in the Pacific.”

  Nia was doing it. She was tapping into Mr. Dale’s scientific mind. She was saving Otto!

  But why couldn’t I inspire Ms. Rinse? Had something gone wrong with my muse magic?

  Mr. Dale shook our hands, one by one, and paused before Maya. “I once attended the county science fair. It was the highlight of my childhood. Ms. Rinse, don’t deny this young woman the chance of it,” he said without actually looking at her.

  Ms. Rinse sputtered. “B-but there should be a punishment.”

  “To fit the crime, yes,” Mr. Dale said. “Your punishment is the time you’ve already served here, in, um—” He paused.

  “Whale Jail!” Thalia supplied, and Mr. Dale laughed.

  “Yes. That’s right. Whale Jail. You’ve been punished and now you’re free to go,” he said, a happy twinkle in his eyes. “Now, about Otto . . .” He muttered to himself as he left the room.

  Ms. Rinse narrowed her eyes at us. “You got lucky, all of you,” she said, and we followed her out of the back room. “Another misstep, Maya Rivero, and you’re not going to the county science fair. I expect to see you at lunch. Try not to get arrested,” she added, and left us on our own.

  At once, we all faced Nia, who was smiling. “You did it,” I said, giving her a hug.

  “Did what?” Maya asked. Her arms were crossed and she looked angry. “Something is going on and you guys aren’t telling me. What happened at the tank was—it was bizarre. I don’t know why we aren’t sitting in actual jail right now.”

  “April fools!” Thalia said.

  “It’s December,” Maya said.

  “Nothing’s going on, Maya,” I said. “But close call, huh?”

  We heard a sharp knock at the window behind us. Letty, Lisa, and Leo were tapping on the glass with a coffee cup. “We’re here to break you out!” Letty said, her voice muffled.

  “We saw what you did back there! Incredible!” Lisa shouted.

  “I love whales!” Leo added.

  Lisa raised her cup and aimed at the window.

  “No!” we all shouted at once and the siblings stopped in their tracks.

  “No?” they asked in unison.

  “NO,” we shouted again.

  They shrugged and walked away, toward the coffee shop next door.

  “It’s the caffeine, right?” Thalia said. “It’s made them nutty.”

  We laughed, but Maya didn’t. Her arms were still tightly crossed. “So you aren’t telling me anything then?” Her voice was shaky.

  “Maya, seriously, nothing is—” I started to say.

  Maya sucked her teeth. Her eyes were watery. “Whatever,” she interrupted. “I’m going to the bathroom.” Then she wound her way out of the gift shop toward the restrooms.

  We waited for her to leave before speaking. “Totally redeemed yourself,” Thalia finally said to Nia, lightly punching her arm.

  “Not by a mile.”

  We froze. None of us had said that.

  The voice wa
s disembodied, familiar, and coming from our jewelry.

  Clio.

  “Get to headquarters immediately. Your temporary entrance point is the slide in the Pirate’s Playground.”

  Mela uttered a curse word under her breath and, with that, we headed out, ready to walk the plank.

  The Pirate’s Playground was next to the dolphin show, and we could hear their clicks and squeals, and the applause from the audience, as we climbed into the play equipment. The slide was a dark tube.

  “I wonder where we’ll pop out on the other side?” Thalia asked, before plunging in. We all watched the other end of the slide, waited a moment, and sighed when she didn’t emerge.

  “I suppose it works as advertised,” Mela said, then slid into the tube herself.

  Silently, Nia sat and pushed off. “This is so messed up.”

  Then it was just me. The last muse. I took a deep breath of the salty air. A sea lion growled. I looked out and saw Maya wandering about with a map of Sea-a-Rama in her hands. It didn’t seem fair that we had to keep her in the dark. Her head started to move in my direction, and I yelped, then flung myself into the slide before she could see me.

  It felt like I was sliding in the darkness for a long time, the heat in Miami giving way to cool, damp air. When I tumbled out, I found myself inside a different kind of tunnel—with smooth stone walls and a light ahead. I followed the light until the tunnel opened up into a square room without windows. The walls were painted in hieroglyphics and a tall sarcophagus sat in one corner.

  The elder muses—Paola, Etoro, and Clio—were seated in plastic chairs at the front of the room. Tomiko and Elnaz sat off to the side. And in the center of the room, on three stools, were Nia, Mela, and Thalia. Nobody spoke, so I took the remaining stool, which wobbled on its three legs.

  There we were, all nine of us, silent in a dark tomb.

  “It’s not a real tomb,” Clio said, as if reading my mind again. “It’s the new exhibition—Designing Egypt. Not open to the public yet. Very convenient for these proceedings.”

  “Proceedings?” I asked, but got no answer.

  Paola spoke next, her accent warm and familiar. But the words coming out of her mouth were less so. “To be a muse is a privilege. We are powerful beings, and the temptation to abuse such power is very great. Too great for some.”

  “Worse yet,” Etoro said, “is when we turn that power against one another. Our magic derives from love and understanding, which necessitate patience.”

  “Art cannot be rushed,” Clio said. “Ideas cannot be rushed. Solutions to problems cannot be rushed. Our magic is meant to nudge, not push.”

  “I didn’t—” Nia began to say.

  “You shoved. You impelled the others in order to get your way,” Clio said heatedly.

  “To save Otto,” Nia argued, her voice shaking.

  Tomiko cleared her throat, obviously nervous about this role as elder muse. “Had you opened the gate, Otto would be as good as dead. He would have no family there. He would have performed his tricks in the bay alone, used to the schedule of his days, hungry for food he doesn’t know how to hunt for. Reacclimating him to the open ocean would take time, and teams of scientists.”

  “But Mr. Dale said that he would find a way for Otto to be free,” Thalia put in.

  “Nevertheless,” Elnaz now spoke, “it could have been disastrous had you succeeded.”

  “Not to mention Maya,” Clio said. “You four almost managed to lose a Fated One today.”

  “But the sirens,” Mela said. “There were pelicans.”

  “We know, how horrible,” Etoro said, genuinely, kindly. “And yet you were too distracted to deal with them.”

  We were in so much trouble. My eyes hurt because I wanted to cry, and I couldn’t look up at the muses. Instead, I stared at the base of the sarcophagus, wishing I could hide inside for an eternity.

  “Muses have been stripped of their magic in the past,” Clio said.

  I heard Mela make a little shocked noise. Thalia began to swing her legs back and forth. Nia covered her face with her hands and leaned forward, like she was going to puke. I just stared at the sarcophagus some more. Move over, mummy, I thought. Make room for us.

  “Either they’ve abused their powers or gone to the searchlights. The reasons have varied.”

  I jumped in my seat. “What did you say?” I asked Clio.

  “I said the reasons have varied.”

  “Before that,” I demanded. She’d said something about . . . about searchlights. Where had I heard that before?

  Nostrils flaring, Clio sighed and rose from her seat. “Your communications items,” she said.

  “Is that what they’re called?” Thalia said, pulling off her ring. Nia removed her necklace, and Mela took her ring off, too. I struggled with my bracelet, the latch glued on and very much stuck. Clio collected everyone’s things and stood before me, waiting.

  “I can’t,” I said. “My mom superglued it.”

  Etoro hid a snicker with her hands, and Paola looked away.

  “What is with your family?” Clio said. “Annie glued that latch together, too.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. We’re paranoid about losing things? We like glue?” I joked only because I was so nervous and sad. Were we being kicked out forever? Sent to the searchlights, whatever that meant?

  “You’re all suspended temporarily until we decide what to do with you. Tomiko, Elnaz, Maya Rivero is now assigned to you. Mela, Thalia, and Nia, you will return home immediately. Your parents are expecting you. When and if it’s time to come to headquarters, I will let you know. That’s a big if, by the way. You may exit via your regular entrance points.”

  Mela was crying in earnest now. “What about our classes in Miami? Can’t we say goodbye to Callie’s mom?”

  “It’s sorted,” Clio said with finality.

  Thalia was crying now too, no jokes in sight.

  Nia kept whispering, “I’m sorry, it’s all my fault.”

  We rose, eager to leave the tomb, when Clio said, “Calliope. You stay. Everyone else is dismissed.”

  The muses filed out until it was just me and Clio. Our voices echoed when we spoke.

  “What happened?” Clio asked.

  “It’s like they said. Nia got upset about the whale’s tank. There were sirens. Muse magic and siren song got all mashed up. It was too powerful for us. We lost control.”

  “Too powerful. Got it,” Clio said, and started to wander around the perimeter of the room, her fingers trailing over the hieroglyphics. Her hand dropped toward a small hole in one of the walls. She put her thumb inside, then pulled, and the wall moved forward, revealing a hidden door. “Emergency exit. Come.”

  We exited the Designing Egypt exhibit altogether, and wound our way up to a room that was filled with clocks of every size.

  “It’s my favorite room in the museum,” Clio said. There were cuckoo clocks, and clocks covered in diamonds and rubies. Another clock was a golden ship with actual working cannons, and another was a silver swan that unfurled its metallic feathers on the hour. Clio led me to a tall clock in the corner. It was a globe, held aloft by nine bronze figures.

  “Muses, all nine,” she pointed out. “Whenever a muse uses her magic for the first time, the globe on top spins. It stops in the place where the muse can be found.”

  I looked closely at the globe, and there was an arrow, set into the globe with a blue stone, stopped right on the tip of Florida.

  “So that’s how you knew to come get me. Because of what happened that night on the Metrorail.”

  “Indeed. It spun so fast for you, in fact, that it did not stop revolving for a full eight hours.”

  “Is that weird or something?” I asked.

  “Unheard of, Callie,” Clio said quietly.

  I had a sinking feeling. “So the clock is broken? Am I not supposed to do this muse thing?” The others were temporarily suspended. Was I about to be permanently kicked out?

  C
lio gently touched the shiny surface of the globe. “The clock isn’t broken. It merely recognized the power in you. Callie, you’re the strongest among us. We are vessels of inspiration, but you, those you inspire, they change, don’t they?” Clio leaned gingerly against a case holding dozens of pocket watches. “They change . . . physically.”

  I thought of Raquel getting taller, of Maya’s lisp, now gone. I nodded.

  Clio exhaled. “Remember Odysseus? How he was tied to a mast so that the sirens couldn’t force him to crash his ship?”

  I nodded.

  “Later in the story, right before he comes back to his family again, the goddess Athena changes his appearance. First, she makes him a beggar so that he can sneak into his castle. Then she returns his youth to him, curling his hair and making him taller.” Clio drummed her fingers on the globe. “There’s more goddess in you than in the rest of us.”

  I touched the globe. It hummed underneath my fingertips. “I don’t see how that could be true, Clio. Look at me. I’m just a kid,” I whispered.

  Clio reached out and brushed a lock of hair out of my eyes. Then she spun the globe softly and stopped when her finger landed over Greece. “Mount Olympus is here,” she said, touching it lightly. “But you can’t just hike up to the top and find the gods. Especially nowadays. Even so, we know that your aunt made a visit just before we learned she was sick. She told me afterward, but she refused to reveal what she’d learned there. You being here, being you, might have something to do with that visit.”

  “Oh,” I said. What had Tia Annie known? What had she done?

  “I’m afraid I’ve given you too much responsibility, too soon.” Clio gave the globe another little spin, and it rattled around its axis, landing again with the arrow pointed at Miami. “There have been other muses who couldn’t manage it. Lost Muses, we call them.”

  “They go to the searchlights,” I said, and held my breath.

  Clio seemed to be holding her breath, too. “Sometimes they do. But they shouldn’t.”

  “I don’t know what that means,” I whispered.

  “When a muse is no longer using her powers to inspire others, when she uses them for herself—that’s the worst thing we can do with our gifts. Ambition. Selfishness. Anger. Nia came close to it, today. And you all aided her.”