“No, Lo lied to me. And Jude,” I say, looking at him hastily. I don’t care right now, I really don’t. He doesn’t understand my power, he doesn’t see music in me, he doesn’t care. Fine. I’ll deal with that later. I reach to grab the car keys from the counter, but Anne’s fingers close around them before mine can.
“You can’t leave, Celia,” she says firmly. She’s serious, her eyes are intense. “It hasn’t changed. Your future. You’ve got to make another choice.”
“Maybe this is the other choice,” I mutter. I hold out my hands for the keys, but Anne is stone-faced.
“I could drive you,” Jude says. I turn to look at him.
“I’ll walk. I already had to do it once today, when you left me at the pier,” I snap. Jude looks hurt but doesn’t argue. I push past him, down the hallway, ignoring Anne’s warnings about the hurricane, about my future, about everything.
I can do this alone.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Lo
Molly looks old.
She’s on the deck of the Glasgow, near the other old ones. Her eyes are turned to nothing, her chin lifted to the surface. She aged fast, so fast. If the hurricane doesn’t take her, I’ll be surprised.
Though I suppose I won’t really know. I have to go to the surface for the last time soon, before the waves get so fierce that I age and turn dark. I have to go now, before it hits.
I lean under the ship’s railing and let my fingers run across the white paint that bears its name, of Glasgow. There was at least one other word before the of once….
I hesitate, glance around, then dig my fingers underneath the sand and coral and shells that have latched themselves onto the wood, covering up the first word. Pull, pull hard, until things scrape against my fingertips. Finally, a piece of coral breaks free. I let it fall to the sand, eagerly crane my head to see what letter lies underneath, to see the ship’s full name.
But there is nothing. The sediment was so firmly latched to the wood that it seems to have taken the outermost layer with it. The remaining wood looks almost new, unpainted, unmarred by ocean creatures. The Glasgow gets to keep its secrets, I guess. If it remembers them.
I sigh, rise, and move toward Molly’s spot by the cherubs. She looks at me warily as I lean in to whisper to her.
“I’m going to die. Do you want to come?”
Molly narrows her eyes. “I’m not dying.”
“You’re… letting yourself change?” I ask. It makes me shiver—but perhaps not seeing the old one change into a monster makes it easier to accept that fate.
“Absolutely not,” Molly says. “They killed my sister. They did this to me. I’ll never be one of them.”
“Then…” I look at her blankly. “There are no mortals you can drown. They won’t love you fast enough. There isn’t another choice,” I protest. It suddenly occurs to me why I’m fighting so hard: I may not like Molly, but I don’t want to die alone.
Molly turns back to me. “Go kill yourself, Lo. I have other plans.”
I back up. I don’t know what to say. I turn away, glide down the edge of the Glasgow. I’ll need to get closer to the shore before I surface, the storm is already above us this far out to sea. Swim away, go, now, before it’s too late…
I turn around, look at the Glasgow, at my sisters. They look like part of the ship, still, hair drifting loosely around their bodies. They are beautiful, this is beautiful, we are beautiful. I wish I could stay here. Naida may not like this world, but I do, even if I was brought here against my will, even if it makes me strange and different and half dark. I love this world.
I lift my fingers to a wave, part my lips slightly, and say good-bye.
Just go. Go now, before you change your mind.
I hurry along the ocean’s floor, then up, up to where the waves are stronger, readying themselves for the storm. The water moves so easily around me sometimes, but now it is hard, hands shoving me back and forth. I feel something near my chest shudder. I could let go. Just let go, let the waves take me, let the storm change me…
No. Be brave.
I break the surface and look away from the nearby shore, back over the ocean. The storm is coming, black clouds racing over rocky seas. Get on the sand, quick, before the heart of the storm reaches you—
“Lo!”
I spin around in the water to see Key staring at me, eyes wide, lips strangely curled into the slightest of smiles.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, moving closer to her.
“Molly told me, she told me what you’re planning to do. You can’t die, Lo. We’re almost there. We’ll be angels together. We can let this storm change us.”
“Key…” I don’t want to say it, but I have to—I need to. “Key, we don’t become angels. We become the same monsters that took our human lives from us. The monsters that made us ocean girls.”
Key is silent for a long time. I feel the storm growing closer, the tugging at my heart getting stronger.
“Angels, monsters… maybe they’re the same thing,” Key finally says. Her voice is small but firm. I will not change her mind. I will not convince her of anything.
It’s my choice to die; I suppose it’s Key’s choice to live as something dark. I open my mouth, try to find something to say as waves lift us up, down, stronger and stronger.
And then I hear my name. Wait, no. Not my name. Naida’s name.
Key and I look to the shore, to the church. I tilt my head—someone’s coming down the path, long blond hair, running—Celia.
Why is she here? I betrayed her, met with Jude, kept it a secret, longed for him to love me instead of her. I’ve hurt everyone. I sink down a bit and swim closer, so I can see her better, still far enough out in the water that human eyes couldn’t spot me. Her face is red, her hair messy, being whipped around in the wind. I turn to look back over the ocean…. The storm will be here soon. She should leave, go home, go to Jude. She doesn’t understand how precious the choice to be happy is. She calls out—I swim closer to hear, stay almost submerged….
“Naida!” The name is almost lost in the wind. “Lo! Please!”
Maybe she wants to yell at me. To tell me she hates me, to tell me she’s sorry she ever helped me. I’d deserve it, I suppose, but that doesn’t mean I want to hear it. I should go. I turn—