Revel (30 page)
“I told her you would be a siren,” Kephalos said softly.
Gooseflesh prickled my skin. “Who?”
“Your mother, when she came to see me. The night after you were conceived. You look remarkably similar,” he observed. One of his tentacles reached up and stroked his chin.
“So she did know. Is that why she ran away?”
Kephalos shrugged. At least, I thought that’s what the arching at the base of his multiple arms indicated. “I believe so. I told her that her child’s only destiny on this island was destruction.”
“And what can you tell me now? Has my destiny changed?”
Kephalos blinked up at me. “Yes and no. There are many more options, more dangers. There’s only one thing I can see for sure.”
“And what’s that?”
“Betrayal,” said Kephalos.
“By whom?”
“That I cannot tell. But you must learn to use your voice more wisely. Remember that it’s a weapon. Always.”
“Well, how do I use it?” I asked him. “Do I sing? Or learn special notes, special words? How do I direct it?”
“You can sing if you like, for a more old-school effect. But
it really doesn’t matter,” said Kephalos. “It’s your will, your desire, that you manifest with your voice. The more you know yourself, what you want, the more powerful your voice will be. As for control, the only thing that will be affected by your voice is the thing you focus on. It’s not about the decibels. It’s about what’s up here.” Kephalos tapped a sucker to his forehead.
That made sense. Especially after the experience I’d just had in the underwater tunnel.
“Can you tell me anything else?” I asked.
“I’ve told you more than I should have already,” said Kephalos, wrinkling his broad white brow. And with that he crawled away.
I couldn’t say I was sorry to see him go. I’d appreciated the advice, but Kephalos gave me the creeps.
When I emerged from the oracle’s cave, Jax was gone.
I heard a shuffling step from the darkness of the tunnel behind me.
“Jax?” I called.
No answer.
I walked carefully toward where I thought the sound had come from. It seemed curiously silent now. Except for the muffled plink of water, there was no noise.
“Jax!” I called.
“What is it?” his voice answered behind me.
I whirled around, my hand to my chest. “Oh, you scared me.”
“Sorry, I wanted to make sure that the Glaukos guards were being sent out. Where were you going?”
I pointed down the passage. “I heard footsteps down that way.”
Jax looked around as if he was calculating our position, then strode forward into the passage, disappearing into the blackness for a few moments. When he emerged, he shook his head. “It’s as I thought. That passage is blocked off only a few meters in.”
“But someone was walking that way,” I insisted.
“Perhaps you heard my steps. The echoes can be very deceiving,” Jax said. He took my arm. “I’ll take you home now. You must be very tired. By the way, you dropped this.”
Gently he put the pearl-studded crescent moon in the palm of my hand.
T
he next day I went into town and stopped at the docks, hoping to see Sean. I wanted to warn him about the break in the reef, and the Icers. It was also a good excuse to talk again and maybe smooth things over after the awkwardness of the other night. The
Widowsong
was moored but empty. I went to the Snug next. I didn’t see him but sat down at an empty table and ordered myself iced tea and a lobster roll. I’d have something to eat, then head over to Sean’s house to find him.
A young woman walked into the Snug, took a book from the shelf and sat down in a booth. I only glanced at her at first, until I realized it was Zuzu. She looked different somehow.
She was dressed in loose-fitting jeans and a pink button-down cotton shirt and sneakers. Her hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail.
I practically ran across the tavern but stopped short when she looked up at me coldly.
“I don’t want to talk,” she said in a dull, expressionless tone. “To you,” she added. She turned a page of the book.
“That’s okay,” I said, sitting across from her.
Zuzu’s delicate features looked thinner and there were faint purple shadows beneath her eyes. She wasn’t even wearing makeup.
“Are you okay?”
Zuzu didn’t look up, but her eyes stopped moving across the page. She put a finger at the spot and regarded me. Her green eyes were cold, distant. “You could have told me that you were one of them. You could have trusted me. I thought we were friends.”
“We
are
friends. And you’re right,” I said. “I should have told you. I’m sorry. I just—I didn’t want to believe what was happening at first. I hoped it would stop, that I could
make
it stop. I didn’t want to be different.”
The pages of the book flipped under Zuzu’s impatient fingers. “But you
are
different. You’re a First One, a demigod.”
“I guess so.”
Her eyes shot up to me, red-rimmed but dry. “I suppose we’re all just petty mortals to you.”
That felt like a knife in my belly. “No,” I said firmly, “you’re not. Why does this have to separate us? Why can’t we still be friends? I want to be here for you. I heard about the
punishment that the Council ordered for your family and I’m sorry. How can I help?”
“We’re fine,” said Zuzu, turning a page. “I’m fine.”
I didn’t believe her. Something was gone from inside Zuzu. She looked pale and sad.
“Has someone hurt you? Darius didn’t come after you, did he?” I asked quietly. The thought of him trying to hurt Zuzu made me want to practice my siren-focus thing in a big way.
Zuzu looked down at her book. “No. It’s just that Revel wasn’t the way I thought it would be.”
“I spoiled it, didn’t I?”
She shook her head. “No. You were right about it all along; maybe that’s the part that makes me mad. I just didn’t listen. You were right about the First Ones too—they’re cruel and cold. I’m done with all of them. From now on I’ll stick to my own kind.” She returned to her book. “Maybe you should do the same.”
“I can’t do that. I care about you, and about Sean and Reilly.” I drummed my fingers on the table. “In fact, I need to find Sean. I saw him the other night, during the storm, and he acted …” I hesitated. “Different. Do you know what’s going on with him?”
Zuzu closed her book and sighed. “Of
course
I know,” she said. “Everyone on the island knows. Maybe if you weren’t so busy with your own stuff, you’d notice what’s happening.”
My fingers went quiet and I dropped them to my lap. “I don’t understand. Tell me.”
She shook her head. “He told us not to say anything to you. And I promised him I wouldn’t. But now it probably doesn’t matter anymore. It’s too late to do anything about it.”
“Zuzu, you’re scaring me. Tell me. If there’s anything wrong with Sean, I want to know. I want to help.”
Zuzu bit her lips and her green eyes filled with sadness as she looked at me. “He’s undergoing the transformation.”
“Transformation?” I stared at her. “What transformation?”
“Sean’s becoming a Glaukos.”
T
he floor wasn’t solid. Neither was the bench I sat on. They both rose up beneath me and fell, making my stomach lurch. And even then Zuzu kept talking, relentlessly, saying words that just couldn’t be possible.
“Every few years a boy is chosen to be a defender of Trespass. They go through training, initiation and finally a treatment to transform into a Glaukos.”
“No.” I closed my eyes tight at the image of the Glaukos creature that had been chained to the rocks. That hideous thing could
never
have been a man. But even as I tried to deny it, small things tugged at me. The misshapen head that did somehow remind me of a human skull, the clawed fingers grasping, looking almost like someone’s hand reaching …
Was it possible? Was everything on this island a nightmare?
“Sean wouldn’t do it,” I insisted. “He’s happy here. He loves this place.”
“That’s why he
will
do it,” said Zuzu. “And in exchange for his sacrifice, his mother will be cared for by all the islanders and the First Ones. For the rest of her life. It’s already begun.”
Dazed, I recalled small clues that I probably should have wondered about. The way Sean was treated around here. The “Your money’s no good here, Sean” refrain, the pats on the back. Yes. He was treated like a soldier, about to go off to war.
And even the mayor’s comment at Revel came back to me.
We’re all depending on you
.
Reilly walked in and sat next to Zuzu. She took his hand.
“I just told Delia about Sean.”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” I asked. I felt sick to my stomach. Like crying and screaming all at the same time.
“These guys give up their lives for us,” said Reilly. “We respect that. It’s not anyone’s place to go talking about it. We didn’t know that you had a relationship with Sean. And even if we did, it should have come from him.”
“We don’t have a relationship,” I said in a quiet voice. “Not like that. But I care about him.”
“Sean chose to serve,” said Reilly. “He could have said no, and another name would have been picked.”
As if Sean would ever do that, I thought. The way people were raised here, it was probably unthinkable. Dishonorable. Never in a million years would he have backed out.
Just like no young woman says no at Revel
.
“How is it done?”
“They take trapweed,” said Zuzu. “They start during the summer, and by the time winter comes, they’re transformed. It’s a gradual process. And not easy.”
“Then he can stop taking it,” I said, sitting forward.
Reilly shook his head. “Nobody stops taking trapweed once they start. Supposedly it’s an incredible high. Like a combination of testosterone, cocaine and adrenaline. Increased muscle mass, reflexes, focus, along with sense of well-being, confidence. So basically you feel like Superman,” he said. “The only downer is, you turn into a Glauk. Which, uh, pretty much eliminates any recreational use,” he finished in a low voice.
“So the creatures out there, all of them were men from Trespass,” I said. “And how long can they live … like that?”
Reilly shook his head. “Nobody knows for sure, but longer than we do. A hundred years. Two hundred.”
“And the names on the monument in the cemetery. Those are
their
names.”
Zuzu nodded. “Some were fishermen who died from normal causes, but a lot of them are Glaukos. And we honor all of them.”
“A Trespass sailor never dies,” said Reilly.
“He’s only lost at sea,” I finished in a dry whisper.
S
ean was at home, sitting hunched over a desk in his room with his back to the door. His clothes were rumpled, as if he’d slept in them, and his unkempt hair lay at odd angles. As I walked in he shut the lid of a wooden box that sat on the desk in front of him.
I came and stood behind him, putting a tentative hand on his shoulder.
“Sean?”
He didn’t answer. In fact, he didn’t even seem to be aware of me at all. I leaned over him to see his face.
