by Heloise Hull
Good point.
Great. Now I was arguing with myself. Again. Please, please, please, don’t drown.
A woman sat on a rock in the middle of the waves. Her mouth was open in a perfect O, and she was saying something.
“Help!” I called.
She smiled back and that’s when I realized she wasn’t saying something. She was singing. The siren. Nonna had called her Thessaly.
“Why are you doing this?” I sputtered, desperately pawing at the water. I had to get to that rock. Either I’d strangle the siren or knock her out. Both worked for me.
The singing paused.
Her talking voice was just as melodious, but it didn’t have the forcefulness that made me want to drown myself. Now I was drowning because I was tired.
“What?” she asked. Her teeth were sharp and shone like saltwater pearls.
I made garbled, water-logged attempts to speak.
“What are you saying?” she asked. “I can’t understand you when you’re drowning and splashing around like that.”
“Stop talking and help me then,” I shouted, my lips barely above the water.
The beautiful woman with hair that matched the sea closed her mouth. She looked at me like a confused barn owl, her head cocked to the side, before reaching out and tugging me the last few feet to her rock. She inched her toes away from where I was panting, half-drowned.
I took in lungfuls of deep, clean air, then celebrated not dying by sprawling on her rock. The siren simply watched.
Finally, I dragged myself to a sitting position and asked, “Why save me if you want to sing me to death?”
“You know… I don’t know. In a thousand years, no one has ever asked me why.”
“Okay, well I’m asking,” I said bluntly. Now that I could finally lift my head and look at her, she truly was beautiful. Her eyes were Tyrrhenian purple and brilliant against her pale, blue-tinted skin. She had high cheekbones like royalty and soft pink lips. Silhouetted against the moonlit ocean, she looked like a fairy tale mermaid come to life, but swap the fins for razor-sharp teeth.
“I have to sing,” she said. “Singing to me is like oxygen to you.”
I wrung out my shirt and tried not to gag at the taste of saltwater coating my mouth. “I don’t see the point in drowning people unless it’s for fun or food. So, which is it? Are you planning to eat me?”
“I’m no cannibal,” she said in disgust. The waves went higher, ripping me from my rock and tossing me around, again. “Why would you think that of me? You are nothing more than a puppet of men. You read their stories about me and believe it as fact.”
“No! I don’t know anything about this life. I promise. I just don’t get why you want to randomly sing people to their death.”
The waves receded. “I am cursed by the gods. This is my punishment. I am stuck on this rock and I haven’t left in thousands of years.”
I treaded water, choosing my words carefully. Instead of accusing her of anything, I said, “I could try to help.”
Thessaly considered me for a moment. Her hair swirled blue and green, shimmering in the moonlight. “That wouldn’t be terrible.”
“I can research it tomorrow.”
Thessaly nodded slowly. Then more vigorously. “Yes. Yes, I want to walk on the ground again. Can you do it?”
“I can try.”
“Do it, and I will tell you a secret. A secret only I know.”
“About what?”
“A secret about Aradia,” she said firmly. “Now, go home.”
Chapter Twelve
I woke up with Tiberius snuggled under my arm, snoring. Because of course I did. After a quick stretch routine that mostly focused on getting all of the cracks out of my ankles and hips, I went to percolate myself a cup of coffee. Or twenty. This was Italy. They didn’t judge coffee consumption.
I stumbled out of my room, pulling out pieces of seaweed that were still stuck in my hair. That meant last night in the ocean with the siren had definitely been real. Thessaly wanted to be un-cursed. Should I tell Nonna? She’d saved me from the siren on my first day here, but I definitely didn’t understand their relationship. It felt complicated.
When I got to the kitchen, Nonna was already there, humming and stirring something in a pot on the stove. It smelled meaty and delicious. The perfect hangover food, especially if there was gravy around and something to smother it over. Like biscuits. Oh, that sounded too good. Between night walking and drinking all that wine, it felt like I needed an exorcism, but I’d take some greasy food for now.
“Sit, Mamma. I’ll have breakfast ready soon.”
I took a seat and watched her add more crushed herbs into the pot as my mouth watered. I wondered if she made breakfast for her guests every morning. “Nonna, have you checked on Aurick yet?”
Nonna let go of the spoon, although the decadent smelling ragú kept swirling on its own. “Curses. I knew there was something I was forgetting. Can you watch this?”
“Sure.”
“Do it lovingly.”
“Um,” I said, picking up the spoon and wondering what, exactly, stirring lovingly looked like. “Hey, Nonna. Do you think the reason you keep forgetting about Aurick is because he wants you to forget about him?”
Nonna stopped dead in her tracks. She put a finger to her nose and tapped it. “You know, you’re pretty good at this strega stuff.”
I basked in the moderate praise. The last time anyone told me I was good at anything was probably at the principal’s office in high school after I’d beaten the snot out of some boy who grabbed my tit. I think the exact quote was, “Why are you so good at getting into trouble, Ms. Falcetti?”
I was always considered “troubled” by my teachers and foster parents. I considered them “troubled” too, though. Downright bastards, some of them.
Nonna headed to the back bedroom. There was a loud knock and some light conversation.
I stirred the ragú, lovingly, and considered last night, the siren, the dream that wasn’t a dream, and my promise. I was so lost in my thoughts that I jumped when Nonna came back in the kitchen to announce that Aurick would be joining us for breakfast.
“Perfect,” I said, rubbing my chest. At this rate, the old crone was going to give me heart palpitations.
A moment later, the back bedroom door creaked open, and the tallest man I’d ever seen shuffled out of his room looking dazed and confused. His clothes hung off him in large swaths, as if he had cobbled together pieces from a Big and Tall menswear outlet store.
I didn’t fall for the pretty faces and scruffy beards. Italian accents—well that was harder not to swoon over, but I was made of stronger stuff now. I could resist Luca with effort. Aurick, on the other hand, I would have no trouble resisting.
“Buongiorno,” he bowed. It was as awkward looking as him.
“Buongiorno. I’m Ava Falcetti. You’re Aurick?”
“Correct.” His voice was tinny and exact. Curt, almost.
Nonna shooed us to the table and served us both. There was homemade bread, butter, and grape jam. Carafes of orange juice, cold cuts, and croissants. A bowl of briny olives and feta that quickly became my favorite. It was a European feast.
“How long have you been here?” I asked, buttering a piece of ciabatta bread.
Aurick jerked his head up, shocked I was still there.
I waved my butter knife in a spiraling arc. “On Aradia. Not like planet Earth or something.” Although I had to admit, I was curious about that, too. It looked like a long time.
“I’ve lost track of the days.”
Nonna set down a plate of hardboiled eggs. “It’s been at least a year, right?”
“Probably. Thank you, Nonna.”
We sat uncomfortably silent for a few minutes, chewing. As Aurick swallowed his last bite, he stood, said goodbye, and went back to his room. I waited until the door shut, almost as quietly as him, before breathing.
“Oh, thank God.”
“Odd, tha
t one,” Nonna agreed.
“What does he do all day?” I asked.
Nonna shrugged and popped an olive in her mouth. “You’d have to ask him.”
“I get the feeling he wouldn’t answer. Not directly, at least.”
Tiberius finally rolled out of my bed, blinking blearily at the morning light. “Buongiorno, ladies.” He picked up an egg and examined it. “Did I miss anything?”
“Only Aurick,” I replied.
He froze, his eyes flickering to the back room. “Is that what that smell is?”
I started to ask what he meant, but stopped and watched in fascinated horror as he attempted to swallow the egg whole. Life was so weird.
“You should be careful,” I began, but it was clearly too late. His eyes bulged and his tiny paws clawed at the lump in his throat. I jumped up and tentatively banged on his back, afraid I’d hurt him if I hit too hard. “Nonna!”
Instead of freaking out, she frowned. “How many mornings do we have to do this song and dance?” She made a complicated movement with her hands and muttered something under her breath, expelling the egg with magic.
I rubbed little circles on Tiberius’s back while he gasped. “But they’re so good,” he finally said.
“I’ll cut some up for you next time,” I promised.
The espresso had already perked me up, so I decided to chance a few questions to see what Nonna thought of the siren. “What do you know about Thessaly? Has she always been here?”
“Why?” Nonna barked. “What did that old she-devil say about me?”
I held my hands up. “Nothing.”
“You can’t trust demons. Remember that, Mamma.”
“She’s a demon?”
“Of course. Sirens don’t come from this world. Don’t let her say any different.”
“Okay, okay. I was just curious.”
Nonna humphed and sniffed. She scooped up the dirty plates and dropped them in the sink.
“So, you two go way back?” I asked casually.
“You could say that.”
Cryptic. I had a feeling I wouldn’t get much help from her. Coronis and Rosemary might be more helpful. Surely everyone had to know about the sea demon living in their backyard.
Nonna dried her hands on an old kitchen towel. “What are your plans for the day? Did you want to go into town and see Luca?”
Now I was the one who jumped. “What?”
“Luca,” she repeated. “He always takes his morning coffee at Rosemary’s around now.”
“Nonna, I literally just found my husband in bed with another woman. In no universe do I need to jump into some other man’s bed right away.” I didn’t feel the need to tell her that merely thinking of Luca and his bed made my core heat up and my stomach do funny little flip flops. “Actually, I was hoping to find Coronis. Do you know where I could find her?”
“Also at Rosemary’s.” There was that sly glint again.
“I get the picture,” I said, going to change and to swallow a bottle of aspirin. That wrinkled crone was going to be the death of me yet.
“Buongiorno!” I called, walking into Rosemary’s Bakery. It was warm in the golden morning light, and the smell of espresso made my head spin lightly, but I knew its reviving powers would soon be slipping through my system.
Rosemary came around the counter and kissed my cheeks. “Espresso, darling?”
“Sì, per favore,” I said, trying out my new tongue.
“Ah, look at you!” she laughed. “Anything else for breakfast?”
“No, Nonna fed me. But I would like to take you up on your offer to help in the mornings. If it’s still on the table?”
“Of course. How about you start tomorrow? It will be fun, I promise.”
“Okay,” I nodded, looking forward to my career change. Anything would be better than selling insurance.
Rosemary jerked the machine to a stop and handed me the petite cup of foaming espresso. “Coronis should be in soon. Why don’t you have her show you around today?”
“She doesn’t have to do that. I’m sure she’s got other things to do.”
Yeah, I was digging a little. What did these people do all day? The island almost seemed locked in time. No commerce, no contact with the outside world, no internet. So how did Marla find it? Also, besides the food establishments and Luca’s self-appointed polizia position, no one seemed to work. How did they all survive? The best I could figure, it was like some self-sufficient medieval village. Did people exchange vats of goat milk for Rosemary’s espresso? And where did she get the beans? I had so many questions.
The bell over the door rang.
“Buongiorno!” Coronis sang.
“Buongiorno!”
“Buongiorno!”
I lowered my voice. “Now that we’re all here, I wanted to ask you ladies about something. I had a little run-in last night.”
“With Luca?”
I shook my head. “Thessaly.”
At their confused faces, I clarified. “The siren.”
Coronis almost fell out of her chair. “And you survived? What happened?”
“I talked to her. She’s cursed, that’s all. She claims she doesn’t eat people and just wants to walk on the ground again.”
“So she says,” Rosemary scoffed.
I swallowed my next question as the bell rang over the door. Luca. He wore a light gray button-up shirt and slacks that made him appear professional, but laid back. It had been decades since I’d allowed myself to examine a male that way. Clearly, Jim had none of the same compunction.
Luca tipped his hat in silent greeting, and Rosemary got up from our table to serve him. He was an enigma, one I wasn’t so sure I should decipher. It was too soon. I knew a reckoning was coming. For now, I was sweeping my emotions under the rug to enjoy my getaway. If Aradia was truly going to become my home, I’d need to process what happened. Would I need to see Jim and Marla ever again? God, I hoped not. But I should call the twins before they found out from someone else. That wouldn’t be fun after all the times I’d laughed off their suspicions. Jim, a cheater? He was too lazy to record his own shows or make his own late-night snacks. How could he possibly find time to seduce my assistant? At any rate, I refused to involve the twins in their parents’ problems.
“Darling, are you there?”
I snapped out of my reverie to see Rosemary and Coronis watching me sadly.
“There’s no better place to heal than in the Italian sunshine,” Coronis said, as if she had been reading my mind or, at very least, my emotions.
Rosemary agreed. “I was just telling Ava that you should show her around today.”
“That’s a lovely idea,” Coronis said.
We finished our cups as Rosemary cleared the table. “Have fun, ladies! Tomorrow, it’s to the grind for you, darling.”
Rosemary winked and I realized the feeling in my chest was excitement. To find these women felt like a miracle in itself. Proof I could move on and find purpose in a new life. As we said goodbye and waved to Luca, I wondered how much he’d overheard. I guess it didn’t matter. He was nothing more than eye candy at this point.
We walked into the warm, salty breeze. I let it ruffle the sun dress around my legs and marveled at how good it felt to do nothing more than enjoy the feeling of sun and wind on my bare skin. I let simple pleasures pass me by too often in my every day shuffle from work, school, and weekend sports clubs with the boys. Falling into bed only to zone out to television like every other couch zombie in America had taken its toll.
“Outside of the near-drowning with that siren, how have you been holding up?” Coronis asked. “For a MILF, you’ve taken Aradia in stride.”
“I’ve always wanted to believe,” I admitted. “It wasn’t that far of a stretch, especially when I woke up to an astral projection of Nonna.”
Coronis eyed me strangely. “Nonna did what?”
“Astral projected. That’s what she called it, at least.”
“Did s
he?” Coronis murmured. “Stregas don’t typically have that power. Now, Nonna is much older than she claims, but I don’t know if she’s the oldest thing on this island. That would be Thessaly. Or maybe Marco.”
“Is it rude to ask what Marco is? I keep hearing lion. Does that make him a lion shifter? Is that a thing?”
“It’s a thing. This way.” Coronis guided me down a quieter, cobblestone alley. “I have something special to show you. As for Marco, I think some of the residents might feel rubbed the wrong way if you were to ask, but I know you’re genuinely curious. That’s not a terrible trait to have. Marco is descended from the Nemean Lion. When he shifts into his lion form, his golden fur is impervious to weapons. He’s practically indestructible. Marco and Rosemary have an epic love story I’m sure they’d love to gush about over wine some night. If you haven’t noticed, they can’t keep their paws and claws off each other.”
“They do seem rather enamored, but maybe that’s just my bitter jealousy talking. Up until a couple of days ago, I was certain my marriage was it. While not the most exciting or sexy marriage in the world, it was still the bed I’d made. What about you? Have you ever been married?”
“Oh, not me. I’d rather pluck my own feathers than settle down for eternity.”
“Eternity?” I laughed. “Surely no one is immortal.” Silence. I waited. More silence. Suspicion flared. “Coronis, is anyone here immortal?”
More silence.
“Wait, is everyone immortal?”
“Long-lived is probably a better way to put it,” she replied.
“So, you’re not going to tell me.”
“Look, here’s the church! The manuscripts in there can describe it better than I ever could.”
I glanced up at the massive, red brick structure. It had a round apse in the back and a tall façade. Except for a few crumbling places near the ground, it was in remarkable shape.
“This is the Basilica of Aradia. It’s an old Byzantine church from the sixth century.”
I went silent as we entered the dark and quiet setting. It didn’t appear that anyone still held services there, but the gold mosaics that covered the dome of the apse glittered in the candlelight.