“No, I don’t mean you any harm,” Gemma tried to reassure her again.
Before Diana had led them here, Lydia had used her extensive knowledge of paranormal elements and powers of persuasion to convince Diana that they weren’t there to hurt her. But now that Diana seemed comfortable with them, and Lydia had the distraction of ancient artifacts, she was content to let Gemma do her own talking.
“You are a siren, aren’t you?” Diana asked, eyeing her above her glasses.
“Yes. I am.” She waited a beat before asking, “Are you Demeter?”
“Demeter.” Diana smiled, as if being surprised by a forgotten memory. “I haven’t been called that in a very long time, but yes, I was once Demeter.”
“But you’re not now?” Marcy looked up from the cat. “Aren’t you still a goddess?”
Diana laughed warmly. “Goddess. You say that as if it means something.”
“Doesn’t it?” Marcy asked.
“Not what it used to.” Diana took another drink of her tea, then set the cup on a nearby end table. “All my friends, my family, anyone who really knew me, is long since gone. I am alone, with no one to worship me, and why would they? What little magic I still have I only use on my flowers and plants. I’m an old woman now.”
“But don’t you choose this form? Can’t you be young again if you wanted?” Gemma asked.
“I chose this form because it suits me. This face, this shop, this life, it’s what I am now.” She gestured to the room around her. “The goddess within me is all but extinguished.”
“Why? I’ve read the stories about you. You were so powerful,” Marcy said, as if trying to give Diana a pep talk. She’d been so set on seeing something amazing that she didn’t seem ready to let the idea go. “You helped the earth. You saved people. Why give all that up?”
“Immortality is not what you think it is. Neither is power. It’s not the answer to anything. It’s just a different way of being, a much longer way,” Diana tried to explain. “Anyway, if you’re not here to kill me, then what have you come for?”
“I want to break the curse,” Gemma said.
Diana looked down at her lap, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles in the fabric of her dress. “Oh, well, I can’t do that.”
“You can’t?” Gemma took a deep breath and tried not to let that get her down. Maybe she’d misunderstood. “But … you’re a goddess.”
“I already told you. That doesn’t mean much anymore,” Diana reiterated.
“Didn’t you help my great-grandma, Audra?” With a book still in her hand, Lydia came over and perched on the arm of the settee next to Harper. “She came to you with a muse around fifty years ago, looking for a way to become mortal. She said you helped her.”
“That’s how you found me then,” Diana said. “Are you a soothsayer?”
Lydia smiled demurely. “No, I’m not. But I followed in Audra’s footsteps, trying to help those who need me.”
Diana appeared bemused by her answer. “And you think helping a siren is worth your time?”
“I’m not a siren.” Gemma shook her head. “Not like the others. I don’t want to be a monster. I want to end this.”
“I’m sorry, but I’ve already explained,” Diana said, though Gemma didn’t think she sounded even slightly apologetic. “I can’t help you.”
“There’s nothing you can try?” Gemma persisted. “You created the curse. There has to be something that you can do. Something you know.”
“I’m afraid not.” Diana was beginning to sound weary of the conversation.
“Can’t? Or won’t?” Marcy asked, echoing the same thought running through Gemma’s mind.
“Perhaps it’s both,” Diana admitted with a slow shrug of her shoulders.
“I have the scroll,” Gemma said. They’d left it out in the car, but she could get it in a flash if she needed to. “I know that if I can destroy the scroll, the curse can be undone, like with Asterion and the other minotaurs.”
“If you have the scroll, then you’ve tried destroying it, and you’ve failed,” Diana said.
Gemma exchanged a look with Harper, wondering if she should admit the truth, but decided there was no point in lying to Diana. Not about this. “I’ve tried everything I can think of, and nothing even makes a mark.”
“Of course it doesn’t. The paper wouldn’t be worth anything if it did,” Diana replied.
“Is the paper cursed? Is there a way to destroy it?” Gemma asked.
“No. The paper is absolutely and completely indestructible,” Diana confirmed their worst fears. “The curse is in the ink.”
“The ink?” Harper asked, trying not to appear too eager, most likely remembering her own experiments with it. “So what happens with the ink?”
“I’ve already told you that I’m not going to help you, so if you’ve come all the way for this, then I’m sorry that we’re going to have to cut this visit short.” Any niceties evaporated from Diana’s voice. “There’s no reason to continue if you’ll only keep asking the same question over and over.”
“Why wouldn’t you want to help me?” Gemma asked. “Penn has been running around doing whatever she wants for a couple millennia. This is supposed to be a curse, but she acts like it’s the greatest gift ever. With all due respect, if you want to really punish her, then you should end this.”
“Penn?” Diana sounded intrigued. “Is that what Peisinoe is going by now?”
“Yeah. Penn is one of only two original sirens left,” Gemma said.
Diana nodded. “I always suspected that she would outlive the rest of them.”
“She’s going to live on, happily ever after, if we don’t do something.” Gemma leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and tried to convey more confidence than she actually felt.
Diana cocked her head. “How old are you?”
“I’m sixteen.”
“Is that your human age, or how long you’ve been a siren?”
“Human,” Gemma said. “I’ve only been a siren for a few months.”
“Sixteen years is your entire life. It’s all of time to you, but it’s a blink of the eye to me. You can’t even fathom time as I do,” Diana said with a condescending tone that Gemma did not care for.
“I don’t understand what this has to do with punishing Penn,” Gemma said.
“Because time has everything to do with it,” Diana said. “I am very, very old. Not quite as old as the earth, but close. In the beginning, there was only us. No mortals. Just gods. But time kept moving, and we stayed the same. We squabbled and bickered among ourselves, but it soon became meaningless. It wasn’t until the humans came around that life truly began.
“I waited a very long time before I bore any children,” Diana went on. “I knew what life was like to be alone, to live forever, and when Persephone was born, that changed everything.
“When Penn and her sisters were supposed to be caring for my daughter, my beloved Persephone, they were out swimming and singing, trying to impress suitors. They were supposed to protect Persephone. Instead, they were having the time of their lives while someone raped and murdered Persephone,” Diana spat. Her lips were pulled back in an angry grimace, and her eyes blazed. “I found her bloody body discarded in a field, wrapped in the shawl that had been meant for her wedding.”
But then she took a deep breath, and her whole body slacked as the anger was replaced by sadness. “Persephone was the sun to my earth, and without her…”
She paused and stared out at the window. Tears welled up in her eyes, and other than the sound of Thallo purring next to Marcy, the room was silent as Diana composed herself.