Elegy (A Watersong Novel) (32 page)

“
Keith?
” Harper sounded dubious. “That’s such a normal name.”

“Yeah, I thought you would only date guys named Bram or Xavier or Frodo,” Gemma agreed.

Marcy rested her head against the seat and sighed. “Okay, first of all, I’m not gonna date a hobbit. And secondly, obviously those names would be way cooler, but I don’t get to pick my boyfriends’ names.” She paused, thinking. “Actually, I wonder how committed Kirby is to his name. He’s always looked like a Stanley to me.”

“How is Stanley better than Kirby?” Gemma asked.

Lydia leaned forward, resting her arms on the tray table, and gave Gemma and Harper an impish smirk. “Oh, and Keith was a football player.”

“He was third-string and benched the whole season,” Marcy said in an exasperated way, like she’d explained this a hundred times before. “He was also on the math league and a founding member of the paranormal society. It’s that last fact that attracted me to him, and I was willing to overlook the whole ‘jock’ thing to be with him.”

“Wow.” Gemma shook her head. “I just can’t picture you like going on dates or kissing or anything.”

“You shouldn’t picture me kissing. That’s gross and weird,” Marcy said.

“They even went to prom together,” Lydia added.

Marcy groaned. “Oh, my god. This is the longest flight of my entire life. When are we getting there?”

“Marcy went to prom? Seriously?” Harper snickered.

“I know!” Gemma agreed. “I couldn’t believe it when Marcy told me last week.”

“Right?” Lydia sounded as shocked as they were. “For a little bit, I was afraid that it might be some trick, and the football team was gonna go all
Carrie
on her. But nope. She didn’t win prom queen, and Keith really liked her.”

“That prom was horrible, though. Pig’s blood would’ve been an improvement,” Marcy muttered, and began typing on her phone again.

“There really is so much I don’t know about you, Marcy,” Harper said.

“What are you tweeting now?” Gemma leaned into the aisle, trying to read it.

“I’m not tweeting anything. I’m Googling to see if anyone has developed teleportation technology so that I never have to go through this again.”

The flight did feel long, like Marcy had said, but landing didn’t make things much better. In fact, being on solid ground only seemed to make the headache intensify. Gemma bought overpriced aspirin and a bottle of water at the airport and guzzled it down before they even went to the car rental.

Since Harper and Gemma were under twenty-five, Marcy rented the car in her name, and that meant they had to put it on her credit card.

“Thank you,” Gemma told Marcy for the twentieth time as they walked out to pick up their rented sedan.

“As long as I get to see some kind of all-knowing, all-powerful, magical being on this trip, then we’ll call it even,” Marcy said.

“This trip is really racking up,” Gemma said, and she felt guilty just thinking about it. “As soon as this is all over, I’m gonna spend the rest of my life paying people back and trying to make up for the hell that everyone is going through.”

“Getting back is the only repayment we need,” Harper assured her.

Marcy drove, while Harper navigated in the passenger seat using the GPS and the directions that Lydia had conjured up from Audra’s notes. Gemma was in too much pain to be as much help as she’d like, and she rested her forehead against the cool glass of the window and closed her eyes.

“So when we get there, I think you should let me do the talking first,” Lydia said, as they got closer.

“How will we know it’s Diana?” Harper glanced back in the backseat at Lydia. “Do you know what she looks like?”

Lydia shook her head. “No, Audra was careful not to have pictures or to describe her. But I usually just know.”

“How? Do you have like a divining rod for supernatural elements or something?” Harper asked.

“No. Audra and my gramma were really great about being able to sense things, but with me, it comes from experience.” Lydia shrugged. “When you’re around something enough, you eventually pick it up.”

“Do you know what kind of goddess she is? Is she gonna hurt us or be violent?” Marcy asked.

“She helped Audra and Thalia,” Lydia said. “But I can’t make any guarantees on how she’ll react.”

“She might kill us,” Marcy said.

Lydia sighed. “She probably won’t.”

“But she might,” Marcy persisted, but strangely, she didn’t sound that upset about the prospect.

“How are you holding up, Gemma?” Harper turned around fully so she could really get a look at her.

“Okay. But those aspirin I took are doing nothing for my headache,” she admitted.

“Because it’s not real pain. It’s supernatural,” Lydia explained. “Pills won’t do anything for it.”

“Then hopefully this won’t take too long,” Gemma said.

“And … here we are,” Marcy said, and Gemma looked out at the window.

Marcy had pulled up in front of a sage green building that would’ve looked like a warehouse if it weren’t for all the plants. A large faded sign across the front read
Floral Essence,
written in a lovely scroll. Skylights on the pitched roof gave it more of a greenhouse feel, and nearly every inch of surrounding land was covered in flowers or bushes.

“This is a flower shop,” Harper said as she gazed up at it.

“Yeah. That’s how Audra found her.” Lydia pointed to it. “At this flower shop.”

Harper turned back to Lydia, and so far, nobody had made any move to get out of the car. “But she doesn’t live here.”

“She might.” Marcy leaned forward, trying to get a better look at it. “It looks like a big place. There could be an apartment in the back.”

“So, according to Audra, Diana worked at this place fifty years ago.
Fifty.
” Harper was sounding increasingly irritated. “She can’t possibly still work here, not if she’s trying to be incognito and not set off alarms as some weird, ageless lady living in a store.”

“She’s a god,” Lydia reminded her patiently. “She can change her appearance. If she wants to age, she can. If she wants to be a tall, blond, twenty-year-old woman or a short, elderly, black man or a goat, she can be.”

“She can be a goat?” Marcy was intrigued.

“Yeah. Didn’t you ever read mythology?” Lydia asked. “Gods were always turning into animals. Zeus was pretending to be a bull or something when he impregnated Hercules’ mom.”

“Why did he pretend to be a bull?” Marcy asked. “How does being a bull make it easier for him to get laid instead of being a friggin’
god
?”

Harper turned away from them and stared back out at the flower shop. “So you’re sure this is the place?”

“Yeah,” Lydia said decisively. “If Diana is still alive, then this is where we’ll find her.”

“Harper. Look at that bush,” Gemma said, and got out of the car to inspect it.

It was a huge bush growing up alongside the building and nearly as tall. Each of the blossoms were bright, vibrant purple, and they had to be twice the size of Gemma’s fist. As soon as she stepped out of the car, she’d been able to smell it—the strong fragrance overpowering the other plants and the city around them.

“This is just like the one behind Bernie’s house,” Gemma said when she heard Harper come up behind her. “Thalia planted it in the yard.”

“Do you think she got it from here?” Marcy asked, as she and Lydia joined them.

“She must’ve,” Harper said. “I’ve never seen roses like this anywhere else.”

“Look at this one.” Lydia had moved a few feet away and pointed to a fern with large pink flowers in the shape of a corkscrew. Then she looked around, gesturing to the cornucopia of vivid, exotic plant life. “The flowers and plants here all seem really beautiful and unique. She might be the goddess of nature.”

“I thought Diana was the goddess of hunting,” Harper said.

“The Roman goddess. But Demeter was the goddess of nature.” Gemma couldn’t breathe for a moment. “You don’t think…”

Lydia shrugged. “Audra only ever referred to her as Diana.”

“It could be her, though,” Gemma insisted.

They were all standing outside, and a mixture of terror and hope left Gemma frozen in place. Marcy had apparently grown impatient, because she went inside, and the door chimed loudly as she entered.

“Marcy,” Harper hissed, and hurried after her. “Wait for us.”

Inside, the store somehow felt even more vast than it had on the outside. It was like stepping into a jungle. Vines and flowers hung from the ceiling, cucumber and zucchini were growing over crates into the aisles. It had been warm outside, but the heat and humidity were so strong indoors that Marcy’s glasses fogged up, and she wiped them on her shirt.

“I’ll be right out!” A woman shouted from the far end of the store. “Look around while you wait.”

Gemma and Harper exchanged a look, and Gemma shrugged. The four of them started wandering toward the other end of the store, where the woman had shouted from, but it was impossible not to get sidetracked by the plants.

Gemma stepped away from the main aisle and investigated a wall of vines, strange tangles that completely covered an old, wired fence. The flowers were small, like violets, and a deep, rich blue. But it was the scent that called her in. It was intoxicating, and for a second, her head even stopped hurting.

“Hello there,” the woman said again, sounding closer this time. Gemma heard the jangle of her jewelry as she walked over to the other girls. “What can I help you all with today?”

“Are you Diana?” Lydia asked, and Gemma tried to peer in through the vines to get a peek at her, but all she could see was drapey beige fabric.

“Yes, I am,” the woman said cheerily.

Gemma finally came out from behind the vines where she saw a woman in her late fifties standing with Harper, Lydia, and Marcy. She looked exactly the way Gemma imagined an art history teacher or the leader of a co-op whole-foods store would look.

She wore a long dress with billowy sleeves and some kind of Indian pattern that went down to her feet. Beaded necklaces and bracelets adorned her, though none of them appeared to be that fancy or expensive. Her blond hair was a bit frizzy and pulled away from her face. When she saw Gemma, she adjusted her small, tortoiseshell glasses, then she exhaled deeply.

“Oh,” Diana said, looking past the other girls and staring right at Gemma. “So you’ve come to kill me then?”

THIRTY-ONE

Culpable

“It’s a great night for this,” Alex said as he surveyed the beer tent at Bayside Park.

“Yep. Just us two guys and a bunch of drunks.” Daniel took a swig of his beer. “Perfect.”

Just outside the tent, he could hear the sounds of the emcee announcing the Miss Capri Pageant, and the crowd’s applauding and cheering. But in here, it seemed much quieter.

The thick green fabric of the tent kept out the sunlight and the festivities of At Summer’s End. Sure, there were tourists inside, and a few frat boys getting wasted at the other end of the tent, but something about the beer tent gave it an illusion of privacy that Daniel found comforting.

That’s not what Alex meant by a great night, though. The weather was warm, the sky was blue, birds were singing. Even though it was officially September, this was still the perfect summer day.

Alex had come right from his shift at the dock, and he’d changed into jeans and a T-shirt, but he still smelled vaguely of grease and seawater. Still, he seemed happy to be here, and had a boyish grin on his face.

It was that grin that wouldn’t let him pass for twenty-one although he had matured and looked much older than when Daniel had first met him earlier this summer. But the bartender had slapped a bright orange wristband on Alex, meaning that he’d only be served soda in the tent.

That was fine by Daniel. He’d flashed his ID, gotten a cold beer, and sat down at a picnic table in the corner. Alex sat next to him, sipping his Mountain Dew.

“I was kinda surprised when you texted me today,” Alex admitted. “We don’t usually hang out.”

“Well, I’m always borrowing your car, so I figured that we ought to get to know each other,” Daniel said, but that wasn’t the whole reason.

He hadn’t slept much since his fight with Harper last night. After she’d left, he’d kicked a dining-room chair in anger, snapping one of the legs. He spent most of today mending it, but eventually he’d grown tired of sitting in the house and feeling trapped on the island.

He hadn’t even properly celebrated his birthday yet, not that he really deserved to celebrate. Harper was right, and he knew it. He’d blown it with her because he hadn’t thought, and now he didn’t want to think. Not about her. Not about last night.

So he’d asked Alex to join him for a beer. He’d like to believe that it was just because he thought Alex was a nice guy, but the truth was that his life had become so entangled with the Fisher girls that he couldn’t even hang out with someone who wasn’t somehow connected to them.

Gemma had texted him earlier, letting him know that she and Harper had left town to meet Diana in Charleston, so that he wouldn’t worry if he came looking for Harper. But he did still worry.

And maybe that’s why he’d invited Alex out, too. In case something happened to either Harper or Gemma, Daniel wanted to know. Even if Harper never wanted to see him again, he couldn’t go on without knowing she was okay. Without being there to help if she needed him.

“It’ll be good for us to get along,” Alex said. “Since the ladies in our lives are sisters, it’ll be easier if we can all hang out and have some laughs.”

Daniel scratched the back of his head. “I suppose Gemma didn’t get a chance to tell you.”

“What?”

“I’m not sure that Harper is in my life anymore.” He twisted the bottle on the table, staring down at the condensation that dripped down the glass. “We might’ve broken up last night.”

“Really?” Alex sounded surprised. “Did she pull the same crap that Gemma did with me? Like how it’s for your own good?”

“No.” Daniel shook his head. “I did something bad, very, very bad, and she rightfully got pissed off. So…”