Lullaby (A Watersong Novel)

by Amanda Hocking

  So she cleaned.

  Harper started with the laundry, since it was overflowing, and then moved on to the living room. She threw away garbage, vacuumed, and dusted. In the kitchen she scrubbed the floors, cleaned out the fridge, and rearranged the pots and the pans in the cupboards.

  Alex came over shortly after Harper decided to tackle the basement. Every Christmas, when they brought up the tree and the ornaments, Harper vowed to go through the old boxes and get rid of junk and organize the keepsakes. She finally decided that today would be the day.

  “Harper?” Alex was upstairs calling her name, and, based on the creaking of his footsteps above her head, she guessed he was in the living room.

  “I’m down here!” Harper shouted toward the basement steps, hoping he’d hear her.

  She was sitting in an old lawn chair, which she’d had to steal from a very large daddy longlegs spider. Once the chair was clean of cobwebs, she’d sat down with an old box on her lap and started rummaging through it.

  So far, the box’s contents appeared to be papers and projects from when Harper and Gemma were little. All of the papers had their mother’s writing on them, like Harper—First Grade, Age 7 or Gemma—Mother’s Day Card, Age 3 scrawled across the back.

  That also explained why the box only contained items from until Harper was in third grade and Gemma was in first. That was the year when Nathalie had been in the car accident, and although Brian loved his daughters, he’d never been as good about keeping things as their mother had.

  Harper pulled out a photo that was bent and faded with age. It had been glued onto a piece of pink construction paper cut into the shape of a lopsided heart. In sloppy cursive across the top, it said My Family in Gemma’s handwriting.

  The photo showed the four of them, Brian, Nathalie, Harper, and Gemma, at the beach. Gemma and Harper were wearing matching bathing suits—purple, with white flowers and a ruffle around the bottom. Harper had nearly forgotten about that day, but it was eleven years ago.

  They all looked so happy—even Gemma, who hadn’t wanted to come out of the water for the picture. Nathalie had had to bribe her with an ice-cream cone.

  “Harper?” Alex said uncertainly from the top of the basement steps, pulling her from her thoughts.

  “Yeah.” Harper put the picture back in the box, then set the box aside.

  “Sorry, I just let myself in,” Alex said as he came down the steps. “I knocked, but you didn’t answer.”

  “No, it’s okay.” Harper stood up and brushed the dust from her knees. The boxes had been sitting down here so long, they’d collected a lot of dirt and cobwebs. “I must not have heard you knocking.”

  When Alex came downstairs, he glanced around the basement, which was dimly lit by a few bulbs hanging from the ceiling. He had a brown leather laptop bag slung over his shoulder, and he readjusted the strap before turning his attention back to Harper.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked her.

  “Just cleaning up.” She absently wiped at her eyes, which had welled up a bit while she was looking through the box. “I’ve been meaning to reorganize this junk for a long time.”

  “I see,” Alex said, but he didn’t sound like he really did. “Anyway, I came over because I wanted to show you what I’ve been working on all morning.”

  “You’ve been working on something?” Harper asked.

  When they’d spoken yesterday, neither of them had been able to come up with a concrete plan for what to do about Gemma. The best they’d come up with was Harper making a few phone calls. Alex had offered to help, but they both agreed it would sound better if the calls came from a family member instead of Gemma’s boyfriend.

  “Yeah, it’s on my laptop.” He tapped the bag hanging on his hip. “If you wanna take a look.”

  “Yeah, sure, of course.”

  Alex glanced around for a place to sit. Looking past the old lawn chairs, which still looked rather cobwebby even after Harper had wiped them off, he sat down on the basement steps. Then he pulled out his laptop, setting it across his knees.

  “I know you were making calls, but I wanted to do something, too,” Alex said as Harper walked over to him. She tentatively sat on the step next to him, peering over at his computer screen as he clicked away. “So I went to the Internet.”

  Within a few seconds a big picture of Gemma popped up, nearly filling the screen. She was smiling, with her long waves of hair shimmering in the sunlight. Harper had taken the picture a few weeks ago on the last day of school.

  “I took the picture from her Facebook,” Alex explained.

  In large bold letters above Gemma’s picture, it read Have you seen me? Alex scrolled down below the picture, where all the pertinent information was listed, like Gemma’s age, height, when she was last seen, and a contact e-mail address given as info@FindGemmaFisher.com.

  “What do you think?” Alex asked, watching Harper expectantly.

  “This is her own Web site?” Harper asked, avoiding answering him right away.

  He nodded. “Yeah, I got a couple missing kids sites to link to it, too. And I also set up a Facebook page for it.”

  He made a few more keystrokes, and the Facebook page popped up, displaying the same picture he’d used on her Web site. This one had the tagline Have you seen Gemma Fisher?

  “A few people have already written on the wall,” Harper remarked, and leaned in closer to read the messages.

  The only people who had written on the wall so far were a couple girls Gemma had gone to school with and her swim coach, all of them sharing the same sentiment—that they hadn’t seen Gemma, but they hoped she came home soon.

  “Yeah, there’s no great tips yet, but I just launched it,” Alex said. “It’ll take a little bit of time to take off.”

  “You think people will post if they see her?” Harper asked.

  “I don’t know,” Alex admitted. “But I hope they do. They might.” He sighed. “I mean, I don’t know where else to look or what else to do. This way we can get other people helping us.”

  “That’s true.” Harper leaned back on the steps. “It’s really good, Alex. I’m glad you thought of it.”

  “Maybe she’ll see it,” Alex said, his words softer, as if he were speaking to himself. “Maybe if she realizes how much we miss her, she’ll come back.”

  Harper turned away from the computer to look directly at Alex. He wore a worried, heartbroken expression.

  “Alex, she didn’t leave because she doesn’t care about us,” Harper said gently. “Or because she doesn’t think we care about her.”

  He lowered his eyes, and when he spoke, his voice sounded tight. “I know. I just thought … maybe if she realized how much I care…”

  “Alex.” Harper put her hand on his back to comfort him. “Those sirens have done something to Gemma. You didn’t see her leave because you were knocked out, but Gemma didn’t want to go with them. They had something over her, and she left to protect us, to protect you and me, because she cares about us.”

  “I should’ve done more,” Alex said, growing frustrated. “I’m her boyfriend. I should be helping her.”

  “And you are,” Harper said, then corrected herself. “Well, you’re doing everything you can.”

  “It doesn’t feel like enough.”

  She let out a deep breath. “I know. I feel the same way. But this is all we can do right now. So it has to be enough.”

  SIX

  Sisters

  Gemma sat on the beach with the sun beating down on her, but it didn’t stifle the chill that ran through her. She’d been shivering all day, and wore layers outside, despite the heat.

  Being this close to the ocean was the only thing that seemed to help at all. She sat with her knees pulled up to her chest a few feet from where the water splashed onto the shore, and for once, the watersong in her head was nearly silent.

  The sirens were out in the ocean enjoying one of their daily swims, but Gemma refused to join them. Sawyer had
gone out with them today, though, and she could hear him laughing along with the faint sound of Penn singing to him.

  They were far enough out that she couldn’t see them that well, bobbing above the surface. The sirens kept disappearing underneath, preferring to swim deeper and farther than a human like Sawyer could go, and Gemma kept getting paranoid that they were going to drown him.

  She didn’t know Sawyer that well, and she had a feeling she never really would. Thanks to the spell, he’d never really be able to be himself. But he seemed nice enough when she interacted with him, and he didn’t deserve to die.

  So when he didn’t come up after a while, Gemma moved toward the water, but he surfaced just before she dove in, laughing and telling Penn how amazing she was. Gemma sighed, then sat back down in the sand.

  To Sawyer, Gemma supposed, this all must seem rather magical. He saw them as beautiful mermaids, and their spell never let him question any further. They appeared to be what fantasies were made of, and he was completely enchanted with them. On the surface, it all seemed so beautiful and perfect, but Gemma knew about the dark underside.

  While Penn and Lexi played far out in the ocean with Sawyer, who tried futilely to catch them, Thea made her way back to the beach. When she got in the shallows, Gemma could see the scales of her tail shimmering through the water.

  Her own legs tingled at the memory of the scales, at the way it felt when her legs became a tail slicing through the cool ocean water. Her body craved the experience, but Gemma denied it.

  Thea pulled her tail out of the water without checking to see if anyone might be around. Sawyer’s house was on a secluded beach, hidden away from the rest of the world, so the sirens were free to frolic in the open as much as they pleased.

  As Thea’s scales shifted back into flesh, Gemma lowered her eyes and looked away. Thea wore a bikini top, but she was nude otherwise. She grabbed a sari that she’d left discarded on the sand and wrapped it around her waist as she walked over to where Gemma sat.

  “You really are a bore,” Thea said, and sat down next to her, stretching out her long tanned legs on the sand and propping herself up on her elbows.

  “This is a curse,” Gemma said matter-of-factly, and stared out at the waves. “So I’m treating it like one. I refuse to enjoy any part of it.”

  “This curse is your life,” Thea said, looking at her seriously. “And you’re going to live a very long time. You might as well enjoy it.”

  “What do you care if I enjoy it?” Gemma asked. “If I want to be miserable, what’s it matter to you?”

  “You’re one of us,” Thea replied. “I’m going to be stuck with you for a very long time. And it’d be nice to have someone to talk to that isn’t an insufferable idiot.”

  Gemma thought of something, and she turned to look at Thea. The wind blew her long red hair back, slowly drying it of the salty water.

  “What about your sister Aglaope? How long were you stuck with her?” Gemma asked.

  Thea visibly tensed up at the mere mention of her sister. The sirens hadn’t spoken much of her, but they’d said that Gemma was meant to replace Aglaope. When Gemma pressed to find out how Aglaope died or what had happened to her, the sirens hadn’t been very forthcoming.

  Well, it hadn’t been the sirens so much as Penn. Whenever Gemma tried to find out more, Penn changed the subject or brushed her off. Thea had seemed much more open to talking about Aglaope, so while it was just the two of them, Gemma decided to use the opportunity.

  “I wasn’t stuck with her,” Thea snapped. “And she’s really none of your business.”

  “You just said that I’m one of you now,” Gemma countered. “If I really am, shouldn’t I know what it means to be a siren? That means knowing stuff about the past, about the sirens that came before me.”

  “She lived for a very long time,” Thea said at last. “She was only two years younger than me, so she lived nearly as long as I have.”

  “She was an original siren, wasn’t she?” Gemma asked. “Demeter turned her in the beginning, and she wasn’t a replacement the way Lexi and I are.”

  “That’s right.” Thea took a deep breath and brushed sand off her bare knee. “Aggie was actually my full sister, unlike Penn, who is only our half sister.”

  “You had the same father as Penn but different mothers?” Gemma asked.

  “Yes, but our mothers were actually sisters,” Thea said with a wry smile. “It was all very incestuous back then. The gods often moved around, sleeping with each other’s siblings and children.”

  Gemma wrinkled her nose. “That’s gross.”

  “So it is,” Thea agreed. “But that’s how things were done.”

  “And you just went along with it?” Gemma asked.

  Thea thought about that for a moment, then nodded. “I tried to.”

  “But Penn didn’t,” Gemma said, turning her attention back out to the water, where Penn and Lexi were still taunting Sawyer.

  “Penn’s never really been a go-with-the-flow kind of girl.” Thea laughed, but it was a hollow, bitter sound.

  “What about Aggie?” Gemma asked, using the same pet name that Thea had used for her. “What was she like?”

  Something dark passed over Thea’s face, and any trace of a smile fell away. She lowered her eyes, staring off at nothing.

  “Aggie was kind,” Thea said. Her voice was naturally huskier than the other sirens’, but it became deeper now as she spoke, heavy with sadness. “Penn says that made her weak, and maybe it did. But compassion is still something that ought to be admired.”

  “So what happened?” Gemma asked. “Did Aggie die because she was nice?”

  Thea stared out at the ocean, and her expression went dark again. “Aggie thought we’d lived long enough. We’d had more than our share of time on this earth, and we’d experienced more and seen more and enjoyed more than maybe any other being here.

  “But all of that came with a cost,” Thea went on. “And Aggie thought that we’d caused far more than our fair share of death. She said that we had enough blood on our hands, and it was time for us to go.”

  “Go?” Gemma asked.

  “Yes,” Thea said. “Aggie proposed we stop eating and go off into the sea to swim together until our bodies gave up and we died.”

  “She wanted you all to die together?” Gemma asked.

  “Yes. That was her grand idea.” Thea took a deep breath, and when she spoke again, her voice was totally flat and emotionless. “So Penn killed her.”

  Gemma waited a beat, thinking she’d misheard her. “She…” Gemma shook her head. “She just killed her?”

  “There was no other choice, we didn’t want to die.” Thea spoke quickly now, all her words running together in one long string, and they lacked any conviction. “And we couldn’t let Aggie kill us, so it was us or her, and it was going to be her either way. We had no other choice.”

  “How did Penn kill her?” Gemma asked, realizing she might have a chance to learn about a siren weakness. But Thea only shook her head.

  “Just because I’m talking to you doesn’t mean I’m stupid,” Thea said. “I’m not going to tell you how to kill a siren.”

  “What happened after Aggie died?” Gemma pressed.

  “The timing was the worst part of it,” Thea said. “The full moon was coming, and we didn’t have another siren planned. And when we finally found one, she died. Penn had her eye on you, but we thought you were too young. Things get more complicated when you get involved with underage girls. Their parents and family tend to pursue them more.”

  “So what happened to the other girl?” Gemma asked.

  “Girls, actually,” Thea corrected her. “There were two of them before you. We found them in nearby towns and tried them out the same way we did you.”

  “What do you mean?” Gemma asked.

  “You remember,” Thea explained, waving her hand vaguely. “We brought them out to the cove, wrapped them in the gold shawl, and they drank from th
e flask.”

  She did remember that, but not very clearly. The night she turned had been a blur. She’d been swimming out in Anthemusa Bay back in Capri, and as soon as she’d heard Lexi singing, everything seemed to stretch and distort.

  The only thing she could remember with real clarity was the awful taste of the liquid in the flask. It had been thick, and burned going down her throat. And then she’d passed out, and in the morning she’d woken up on the rocks with a gauzy gold shawl wrapped around her.

  Later, Penn had explained to her what the liquid had been—the blood of a siren, the blood of a mortal, and the blood of the ocean. That had been the mixture that had actually turned her into a siren, but until now she hadn’t questioned the purpose of the shawl.

  “What’s the significance of the gold shawl?” Gemma asked.

  “It was Persephone’s,” Thea said. “She was supposed to wear it in her wedding.”

  Persephone was the reason for them becoming sirens. Thea, Penn, Aggie, and their friend Ligeia were supposed to be watching Persephone, but instead they were off swimming, singing, and flirting with men. Persephone was kidnapped, and her goddess mother, Demeter, cursed them in punishment for not protecting her.

  “What that has to do with the ritual, I don’t really know,” Thea admitted. “It was all part of Demeter’s instructions, and we have to follow them.”

  “So then what happens?” Gemma asked. “You wrap the girls in the shawl, give them the potion, then what?”

  “We toss them into the ocean,” Thea replied simply. “The mixture is supposed to turn them into a siren, and that will protect them. If it doesn’t take, then the girls drown.”

  “And you’d already drowned two girls before me?” Gemma asked, her heart hammering in her chest. “And you just tossed me into the water and hoped for the best?”

  “Essentially, yes,” Thea said. “You were our final hope. When you washed up on shore, alive, we were all so relieved.”