Tangled Tides (The Sea Monster Memoirs) (27 page)

Merrick's bulging eyes resembled lemons. "You do know how crazy that sounds, right?"

"Are you kidding me? We're half fish. We control water, talk through our minds and relive each other's memories, and communicating with spirits is crazy?"

Pango massaged his temples. "What else did she say?"

Merrick jumped up. "Pang, you don't actually believe this?"

"Yara's right. Why shouldn't it be possible considering how magical the rest of our existence is?" Pango laid his hand on top of mine. "Go on, what else did Mommy dearest say?"

I went over the words in my mind.
Visit … siren … blood.
"I think she wants me to visit the sirens."

"No way," Merrick said. "Not happening."

I tried to push the covers off of me, but the catheter in my arm tugged at my skin. "Think about it. The explanation on how to open the gate came in the form of a poem, and merfolk and selkies interpreted the poem very differently. The sirens were created as an extension of the gorgons to deliver messages for them, right?"

Pango nodded, but Merrick looked at me like a suspicious bobcat ready to pounce.

"So wouldn't it make sense," I continued, "that the sirens would be our best bet at interpreting the poem correctly?"

Merrick put his hands on his hips. "Do you think the Violets didn't think of that? They asked for their interpretation as soon as the gate closed."

"And what did they say?" I asked.

Pango rocked his head side-to-side. "I believe it was something like, 'Drown in hell.'"

"They wouldn't help you?"

"Of course not," Merrick said. "They love it here. They don't get sick like we do. With the gate closed they don't have to spend their time regurgitating memories for the gorgons to consume. They don't want the gate to open."

The sirens knew the answer. I was sure of it. That's what my mother had tried to tell me. I had to see them. "My mother used to be one of them. Doesn't that give me some kind of family rights to their secrets?"

Merrick laughed, but Pango stared at me all seriously and contemplative. It was odd to see them reverse roles.

"The Violets will never agree to let you see them," Merrick said. "Nixie kidnapped you, for gods' sakes."

"He's right," Pango murmured. "The Violets won't allow it."

"All of this is ludicrous." Merrick stood behind Pango, rubbing his back. "We have to meet with the Violets tomorrow to update them on Yara. Is this what we want to tell them? That she is conjuring up a new plan with her dead mother?" He snickered. "I think not."

I sat forward. "Pango, you have to tell me what the selkies' plan is. Maybe it will help me figure out what my mother's message means."

Merrick bristled. "Not until you're feeling better."

Pango snapped his head around. "Merrick, I love you, but shut up. You're hovering behind me like a henpecking old biddy. Go whip up a pie or something."

"Don't tell me to shut up. If you don't want my help, just say so."

"So." Pango stood up and pushed Merrick out of the room. "I'm not saying I believe these spirit shenanigans, but I love a good story, and this one is a Moby Dick. So shoo." He waved him out the door and shut it. "Great gorgons, that man can frazzle my nerves."

Pango downed the glass of juice on my nightstand. "My how I wish that was a pomegranate martini. The good liquor lord knows I need one for what I'm about to tell you. We don't have much time, so I hope you're wearing your brave girl panties."

"I can handle it."

Pango crossed his hands over his heart. "The selkies' plan is to kill you."

"What?" I croaked.

"I know, right? Heartless hooligans."

"Rownan would never let them hurt me."

"Aww, it's sweet that you believe that, but in their screwball minds, Rownan is the only one who can take you to the gate. Anyone who isn't a gorgon—or at least part gorgon—and swims into the Catacombs will turn to stone."

I could feel the blood draining from my face. "This is why Rownan mysted me? He wanted me to trust him so he could take me to the Catacombs and turn me to stone?"

"No, Senorita Sunbeam. According to the gorgon curse, the
soul
has to be sacrificed. Selkies and merfolk have very different interpretations of what that means. Remember, they share their souls through blood."

I swallowed so hard I nearly choked. "Rownan wants my blood?"

"They believe your blood has to be spread over the tombs in the Catacombs—all of it. There's malarkey in the poem about sacrificing for all the lost souls so they can return—or some rigmarole that those brain-freezed morons deciphered incorrectly. A rumor surfaced that your bloodshed will resurrect the souls entombed down there."

"My—could that possibly—no, right? That's insane."

"Of course it's insane. When you're dead, you're dead. I have friends entombed in the Catacombs that I would love to see rise from the ocean floor, but don't you think they might be peeved that they've been living the life of a rock for eighteen years? It's not logical."

I fidgeted with the tube attached to my arm. "You don't believe my mom talked to me, do you?"

He glanced at the door and lowered his voice. "I might. If she learned something from wherever she is, then maybe she's trying to teach you before it's too late. Currently our only two plans end all Romeo-and-Julietish. No mother would want that for her daughter."

My mother didn't care much about me while she was alive. Maybe she was trying to make up for it from the other side.

I itched at the tube in my arm. "Can you take this thing out? It's annoying."

"Sure." Pango stood up and started playing nurse. He let out a frustrated sigh when Merrick knocked. "In a minute, Mrs. Grundy!"

"Two minutes, Pango!" Merrick shouted through the locked door. "By then, if you two are still planning a séance, I'm calling in the Violets to perform an exorcism."

Pango looked at the door and stuck out his tongue. "He tries to make jokes, but it's just not his cup of tea. I'll tell you my plan, but I have to be quick about it. We don't have much time."

I nodded as he pressed a Band-Aid on my arm.

"If there is another way to open the gate, you have to figure it out. And you can't do it here on Solis. The Violets will ask us for the truth tomorrow and we can't lie. Merrick will spew out the details like Old Faithful, and the Violets would never be convinced another plan could be spelled out on a Ouija board. The sirens may be your best bet. Stay with them until you figure this thing out. Because unless you agree to our method and can swear to the Violets you'll drain Treygan of all his songs, they will be forced to give you to the selkies. None of us want that. So, my juristic jailbird, you have to fly this coop and go find your last-minute miracle."

"But what about Merrick?"

"Let me worry about him. Just follow my lead once we leave this room." Before turning the doorknob he paused and whispered, "Be careful with the sirens. If you suspect they're in cahoots with the selkies, get out of there fast."

Visit … sirens … blood … die.

I silently prayed that I hadn't tragically misinterpreted my mother's message.

I
tripped on the first step and stumbled onto the porch, cursing under my breath. I pounded on the door, leaned against the railing and waited. A few minutes later the door creaked open and we sized each other up in the darkness.

"Can you at least turn on the porch light?" I grumbled.

"Are you drunk?" Lloyd asked.

The porch seemed to sway under me. "Why? You offering me a drink?"

"I'm not offering you anything, but I am wondering why the hell you're at my door in the middle of the night."

"Yara. Why else?"

He swung the door wide open. "Get in here, but leave that chip on your shoulder outside. I don't have the energy to fight with you."

W
e sat at the kitchen table in bitter silence. Lloyd wouldn't let me say a word until I ate something and drank some coffee.

"I hate coffee." My words came out semi-slurred. "It doesn't sober you up. That's a myth."

"It's to wake your ass up. You look like you're about to fall over. Not to mention you reek of liquor and are stinking up my home."

"Been a rough few days."

He grunted and watched me take a swig of my steaming, liquid manure. I fought the urge to spit it out.

"Okay," Lloyd said. "Get on with it."

"Your adopted niece is in love with Treygan."

"Well, lah-tee-dah."

I set my mug down. "I came here to ask for advice. Can you stop being a dick?"

"I'm sorry. Refresh my memory. When was the last time you and I sat down for a cozy chat? I can't recall us having any father-son moments in decades."

"Spare me the sarcasm. You knew where to find me if you wanted to see me."

"For a month you've paraded around this island—right outside my door, no less—and made yourself comfortable in one of
my
homes, yet hardly said a word to me. You think I didn't know what you were up to? You're lucky I didn't tell Yara who you were and what you planned to do."

"Look at you," I sneered. "The more you meddle the sicker you get. Jack knew you couldn't stop me. Look at what happened to your kidneys when you helped Vyron cast that spell. You're barely hanging on as it is. We're all shocked you aren't dead yet."

"No kidding," he grumbled. "I've had to watch my step every day. If I meddled again, Yara would have been left with no one. Do you have any idea how many times I wanted to smack some sense into you?"

"Trying to earn another Daddy of the Year award?"

"Dammit, Rownan, you're my son!" His palm slamming the table made coffee splash over the rim of my mug. "I hate that you let Jack push you around and tell you what to do, even when you know it's wrong. But I still love you. Whether you believe that or not, I have always loved you."

"Bullshit! Look around this place. All your precious carvings of mermaids, sirens and gorgons, but there are no selkies, huh? Heaven forbid your illegitimate son's species be represented in your home."

He lowered his eyes and turned his balding head.

I gripped my mug and stared at the ring of coffee on the table. "You're the only father I'll ever have, and you hate
me
because of what my mother did."

"I forgave your mother a long time ago. Liora and I both forgave her."

"Ha! You think Liora didn't die resenting my mother for having your first child?"

"Liora gave me a child too."

"A child who killed her."

He slammed his hand on the table again. "Shut your mouth!"

"You'd prefer it were me, wouldn't you? Would you rather I volunteered to live as a gorgon? For Treygan—your good son—you would do anything. For me you couldn't care less."

"Your brother is cursed with the ability to turn people to stone. You think he considers himself my
good
son? Don't you realize all three of us are cursed with burdens and tragic flaws? Most days I hate myself for messing with nature. I greedily threw stones into the water, and look at the damaging ripples it caused." He took a deep breath. "But then I think about you boys, and Yara, and how much I love all of you. I would do it all over again."

I shook my head and stood up. "Yeah, right." Turning to Lloyd for help had been an epic mistake.

"Sit down. I'm not finished talking." He leaned forward, resting his ashy elbows on the table. "The past eighteen years have bordered on nightmarish. Lately, the only thing that made it bearable was Yara and Liora."

"Liora?"

He flicked his hand in the air. "She still hangs around. She assures me all of this hasn't been for nothing. Me helping Vyron and Cleo turn human, the broken promise, the gate closing, the war between the sea creatures, between my sons—all of it is for a reason. That's the only thing that keeps me going. Otherwise I would have told Yara the truth years ago and let the curse kill me. I couldn't leave her alone. I had to make things right."

"You've lost it, old man. You're claiming to talk to ghosts."

"One ghost. You can think I'm crazy. I don't give a damn. I know what's true, what's right, and what has to be done."