Elegy (A Watersong Novel)

by Hocking, Amanda

  But his eyes did seem fixed on Marcy, and while that sounded like a peculiar pairing to Gemma, she couldn’t really think of anyone that sounded like a true “match” for Marcy anyway. She was just about to ask Kirby if he and Marcy ever had their Finding Bigfoot marathon, but then Marcy threw up her arms in the air and shouted.

  “Done!” Marcy announced proudly, and walked to the center of the pavilion with her arms held high above her head. Then she pointed at Daniel. “I schooled you!”

  Daniel shook his head and walked over to her with a half-eaten sample in hand. “Okay, there is no way you tasted all that chowder. You could not get all the nuances and subtle flavors in them.”

  “Whatever,” Marcy insisted, and crossed her arms over her chest. “I got the nutmeg, the hints of sea salt. That one over there in the corner had cilantro in it.”

  Kirby walked over and joined their group, “I suppose a congratulations is in order.”

  “Oh, uh, hey, Kirby.” Marcy wiped her mouth with the back of her arm, which was a wise decision since she had a clam-chowder smile. “I didn’t know you were watching that. But … yes, thank you for your congratulations. I won. And, um, I’m awesome.”

  “Yeah, I’ve noticed.” Kirby smiled at her.

  “I think I’m going to try the food at a normal human speed,” Gemma said, and looked up at Alex. “Would you care to join me?”

  “I’d love to.” Alex squeezed her hand, and they walked over to the first station.

  “They seem to be having some kind of moment,” Daniel said as he joined Gemma and Alex. She looked back over her shoulder, and saw Marcy actually smiling at something Kirby was saying to her. “Mind if I tag along with you?”

  The samples they were giving out were in little plastic bowls not much bigger than a Dixie cup. The point was to be able to taste them and judge them, not get full of them, and not many people really wanted to fill up on warm chowder on a nice summer day.

  Gemma had taken her first bowl, but she hadn’t even gotten to try it when she heard the sound of Liv’s laughter. It was light and lyrical, but it sent the same shivers down her spine that her song had. The hair on the back of Gemma’s neck even stood up.

  “Oh, what fresh hell is that?” Daniel asked, looking around for the source of the laughter.

  In fact, everyone was looking toward it. A siren’s laughter wasn’t usually that powerful, but Liv was purposely manipulating it, adding a musical edge to it. And she was doing it in the middle of a crowded park, where there were people all around she could control.

  “That’s Liv,” Gemma said. She set her sample down on the table and stepped away, craning her neck so she could see what was going on.

  “Hey.” Alex took her hand, and she glanced back at him. “If you’re about to get into something, I’m going, too.”

  She smiled at him and held his hand as they walked. If they were going to be together, and he wanted to be a part of her life, then she had to let him actually be a part of it, even the dark, scary parts. She’d protect him when she could, but he was her boyfriend, and she had to trust him to be at her side.

  Penn and Thea were easier to find. They were right outside the cook-off. Thea was looking bored and picking her fingernails, apparently unperturbed by Liv, who laughed again, only louder this time.

  Right next to Thea was Penn, who for some reason was getting her face painted. She was sitting on the face painter’s lap, of course, with her arm around his neck and her chest pressed up against him as he painted sparkly waves along her cheeks.

  “I just can’t believe you’d want to be with trash like that,” Liv was saying, and her sweet voice had a razor edge.

  Gemma stepped out of the pavilion, with Alex right beside her, and she finally spotted Liv. The crowd had made a small circle around her. People were still walking and moving, but they couldn’t help but leer when they got within listening distance of Liv.

  Between shoulders and heads, Gemma was able to see Liv staring down at Aiden Crawford and some poor blond girl next to him. His arm loosely encircled the girl’s waist, which apparently did not please Liv at all.

  “I’m not really with her,” Aiden said. His words were nearly lost in the noise, and Gemma strained to hear him. Then he stepped away from his date and moved toward Liv.

  “You think you can just come crawling back to me?” Liv asked. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

  “I’ll do whatever you want. Anything. I swear,” Aiden pleaded, his eyes glazed over.

  “Okay. You I can work with.” Liv laughed again, and Gemma wanted to put her hands over her ears to block out the sound. “But something must be done about that girl.”

  “Me?” Aiden’s former date asked, staring up at Liv with wide, confused eyes. “I didn’t do anything.”

  Liv stepped past Aiden, pushing him aside, and stopped directly in front of her. Liv wasn’t much taller than the girl, but she seemed to tower over her.

  “You think you can just take what is mine?” Liv asked, and Gemma heard the subtle change in her voice.

  Humans might not be able to perceive it, but Gemma knew what to listen for. An almost inaudible growling sound, a slight demonic warp to the vowels. That was the monster inside Liv talking.

  “What’s going on?” Daniel asked, coming up beside Gemma to watch the show.

  “I don’t know exactly, but it can’t be good,” Gemma said.

  Then Liv’s lip began to twitch. Her fangs were either about to come out, or they were already starting to.

  “Shit, she’s gonna change,” Gemma whispered.

  Alex was right beside her, and stupidly, she hadn’t thought to bring any earplugs, so she didn’t want him anywhere near the sirens. Marcy and Kirby were standing just behind her, both of them staring ahead at Liv, Aiden, and the girl.

  “Alex, cover your ears,” Gemma commanded. Alex looked like he wanted to argue with her, and she shook her head. “You can’t help me if Liv gets to you, so please, just cover your ears.” She turned to her friends. “Marcy, Kirby, get back in the pavilion.”

  She glanced up at Daniel, but she didn’t know what she wanted him to do. His immunity to the song might make him valuable, but he wasn’t immortal. She didn’t want him getting hurt again.

  So, without saying a word to him, she left and jogged over to where Penn was still getting her face painted, oblivious or indifferent to the commotion that Liv was causing.

  “Penn,” Gemma hissed. “You need to do something about Liv.”

  Penn didn’t even bat an eyelash. “She’s just having a little—”

  “She’s going to rip off that girl’s head in like two seconds,” Gemma said, and looked imploringly at Thea. “Someone needs to get a handle on her.”

  Thea sighed, but she walked off in Liv’s direction. Gemma stayed near Penn because she didn’t think Thea would have that much of an effect on Liv. She wasn’t completely sure that Liv would listen to Penn either, but Penn wouldn’t tolerate insolence.

  “There’s nothing here to see, people,” Thea said, shooing away the crowd as she walked over to take care of Liv. It seemed to be working, too, and now Penn and Gemma had a clear view.

  Gemma could see clearly that Liv’s face was twitching all over, and she was probably using all of the little restraint she had. And it looked like that was about to snap.

  “She won’t listen to me or Thea,” Gemma tried to reason with Penn. “And if you don’t get in there right now, someone’s going to end up dead, and your cover is gonna be blown wide open. Do you really want that?”

  Penn reluctantly looked away from the face painter and stared up at Gemma. Her black eyes locked on hers, and her full lips were pressed together in an irritated line.

  “Liv, she’s not worth it,” Thea told the new siren, making her husky voice more melodic in hopes of easing the tension. “Calm down.”

  “Don’t touch me,” Liv snapped, sounding like something from The Exorcist. Everyone had to have heard the b
east inside her. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

  “Penn,” Gemma pleaded.

  “Liv, stop,” Daniel said, and that’s when both Gemma and Penn snapped their heads around to see what Daniel had just walked into.

  He had stepped between Liv and Aiden’s girlfriend, turning himself into a human shield for the girl. She was trembling, and Gemma thought she might be crying.

  Daniel’s back was toward Gemma, but Liv was facing her. And Liv’s eyes were pure bird, and pure evil. She smiled, revealing far too many sharp teeth.

  “Daniel’s just killed himself,” Gemma whispered, and she had no idea how to save him from getting his head ripped off.

  EIGHTEEN

  Rendition

  The door to Professor Pine’s office was shut, but Harper could hear the familiar tones of the Beatles singing about Eleanor Rigby. She knocked loudly on the door to be heard over the music. When Pine didn’t answer, she leaned forward, trying to see through the frosted window on his door.

  The clock on the cell phone said it was one minute after five, so Harper was right on time. Cautiously, she opened the door and peered around it. A phonograph was set up in the corner, which explained the scratchy quality of the music.

  Pine was sitting in his chair, his feet propped up on the large oak desk. Students’ papers were spread out around him, and he was slowly flipping through a stack he had resting on his lap.

  “Professor?” Harper said, nearly shouting to be heard over the music.

  “Oh, Harper!” Pine exclaimed when he saw her. “Right, of course. Come in.” He sat up with a start, nearly knocking over the large can of Red Bull he had on his desk, then rushed over and switched off the record.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” Harper said, hesitating by the doorway.

  “No, you’re not disturbing me.” He waved her in. “I just got some old vinyl from my dad’s house this last weekend. I was helping him move into a smaller place, and, of course, I had to try some of them out.”

  Harper smiled. “I understand.”

  She walked over to his desk, meaning to sit down in the chair across from him, but the spot was already taken by a crate of records.

  “I’ll get that. Sorry.” Pine hurried around the desk and picked up the crate, then set it on the floor. “Have a seat.”

  “Thank you,” Harper said, and obliged him.

  “So, you said you had something for me to look at?” Pine asked as he went back around the desk. He was gathering the papers into a stack as he spoke, and he looked at Harper over the top of his glasses.

  “Yes, I was able to convince my sister to let me bring the scroll with me.”

  That had been a bit of a challenge. After they’d taken their swim together yesterday afternoon, Harper and Gemma had a very long discussion about it, and Gemma finally relented after an hour of Harper’s promising her that it would be absolutely safe with her.

  “Oh, excellent,” Pine said. “You have it with you now?”

  “Yeah.” Harper reached into her book bag and pulled out the rolled-up tube. Gemma had carefully tied a string around it so it wouldn’t unfurl during Harper’s travels.

  Pine untied the string, then carefully spread the scroll out on his desk. It was roughly two feet long, so he placed a desk lamp and a heavy tape dispenser on either end to keep it from rolling back up.

  “What do you think?” Harper asked, leaning forward on the edge of the seat.

  Pine let out a low whistle between his teeth. “I think that I can honestly say I have no idea what I’m looking at.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “Really?”

  “No. I mean, I have an idea.” He rubbed his forehead. “But it doesn’t make any sense.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This paper it feels…” He ran his finger along the edge. “It should be falling apart. It has that texture, it feels authentic, but if it were, this should be … disintegrating.” He readjusted his glasses and shook his head. “I should do a carbon testing on this.”

  “What about the words?” Harper asked since she didn’t particularly care how old the document was. She believed it was real, which meant it was thousands of years old, but that was irrelevant to her pursuit.

  “This ink is like nothing I’ve ever seen.” Pine tilted the scroll to the side. “Do you see that? The way it changes color in the light, going from black to reddish.”

  “It’s some kind of iridescent ink,” Harper said.

  “Could be.” Pine took off his glasses and rummaged through a desk drawer before pulling out the monocular. He attached it to his glasses, then leaned over the paper, analyzing the ink more closely. “Could be blood.”

  “Blood?” Harper asked, but that shouldn’t surprise her. Of course an ancient curse would be written in blood.

  “Don’t quote me on that, and it doesn’t really have the consistency of blood, so I can’t explain why I think that’s what it is, but…” He sighed. “Call it gut instinct. But I think it might be.”

  “Do any of the letters or words look familiar?”

  “This might be…” He tapped a letter. “This is one that I thought was an aleph, and I’m really leaning toward that. And this word”—he tapped a word starting with the aleph symbol—“it appears several times.”

  Harper had noticed that before, but she hadn’t been able to glean any meaning from it. Many of the words looked similar to her.

  He grabbed a Post-it note and started scribbling on it, drawing out variations of the symbols. “If that’s an a, then this could be Cypriot, so that would make the next letter an i.”

  “So it’s like a i weird w-thing a?’” Harper asked.

  “Let me check something.” Pine pulled his iPad from a briefcase he had sitting behind his desk. He pushed his glasses up on his forehead and kept glancing down at the scroll as he typed rapidly. “Here we go.”

  He turned the screen out to face Harper, so she could see. He’d zoomed it out so a single word was clearly visible on the screen: a’ima, with αίμα written below it.

  “A’ima?” Harper asked uncertainly, saying it like ah-ma.

  “A’ima,” Pine repeated, but he pronounced it e-ma so it rhymed with edema. “It means blood. I know, I know, it sounds like I have blood on the brain. But … it reminds me of something.”

  When he trailed off, he looked back down at his tablet, typing on it. “I don’t even know why I’m thinking of this. I’m not even sure what the letters are, or if that’s some kind of weird gimmel, which is sorta like gamma, then it could even be …

  “Found it. Here.” He clicked on his iPad, then tilted it toward her. He’d zoomed in again, so To αíμα νερó δε γíνεται showed clearly on the screen.

  Harper shook her head. “I have no idea what any of that means.”

  “It’s an old Greek proverb that literally translates to ‘the blood can’t become water,’” Pine explained. “It’s similar to the phrase ‘blood is thicker than water,’ meaning family is more important than strangers.”

  “And you think that’s what it says there?” She pointed down at the scroll.

  “No, I don’t. Not exactly.” He set his iPad aside, then leaned forward on the desk, staring down at the scroll. “That might be ‘nero’—the Greek word for water—or it might possibly be an alternate spelling for the word ‘black.’”

  Shaking his head, Pine sighed. “I wish I could say for certain, but I’m going on instinct and half-remembered ancient texts. I’d need a cryptographic key to decipher it, and since this appears to be almost a mutation of known languages, I’d probably need to create the key myself. And that could take a while.”

  “But I think you’re onto something,” she persisted. “‘The blood can’t become water,’ would definitely apply to sirens.”

  “What did you just say?” Pine had been staring down at his iPad, but he lifted his head and looked at her, his blue eyes wide.

  Harper’s cheeks flushed when she
realized she’d said too much, and she quickly lowered her eyes. “Nothing.”

  “No, you said something about sirens.” He set the iPad aside and looked back down at the scroll. “You know more about this than you’re telling me, don’t you?”

  “Things are very…” Harper sat back down in the chair, buying herself a moment as she tried to think of the right word. “Complicated.”

  “I can’t read very much of the scroll,” Pine admitted, and he sat back in his own chair. He rested his elbows on the table and stared evenly across at her. “But now that you’ve said ‘sirens,’ I’m thinking I was on the right track.”

  “I’m not saying that I believe it,” Harper said quickly, afraid he’d think her insane. “You know the ancient Greeks, they were writing about all kinds of crazy things.”

  Pine studied her for a minute, chewing the tip of his pen, and he went so long without saying anything that Harper began to squirm in her chair. She was just about to pack up the scroll and dash out of there before he called the school psychologist when he spoke.

  “I have a friend in town I think you should go see,” Pine said, and her heart sank. He did think she was insane, which would probably mean that he wouldn’t want to help her with this anymore.

  “Is this friend an expert on ancient languages?” Harper asked hopefully.

  “Not exactly, but she knows more than I do about this kind of thing,” Pine said, leaning back in his chair. “Her name is Lydia Panning. She runs a bookstore.”

  A relieved smile broke out on Harper’s face. “I know Lydia. She’s helping me.”

  “You already had her take a look at this?” Pine asked, sounding surprised.

  Harper nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Good.” He smiled in approval. “Because this is her area of expertise. I deal more in the natural history of the world. Lydia handles the paranormal.”

  “So…” Harper was unsure how to proceed. Since Professor Pine had suggested Lydia, he obviously knew about the things she dabbled in. But she wasn’t sure if that meant he knew anything more than he’d already said. “You can’t help with this?”