"Of course," Sirenia said, as they neared me again. "Poor girl, sold her soul to Fate." They circled the raft. "What were you thinking? Do you know what would have happened to you in the future if you sold your soul to him? He feeds on people's misery."
"I wasn't thinking straight," I said. "The same way I resisted your call to meet the nameless witch. I'm sorry."
"We forgive you, My Queen," Sirenia said. "She will forgive you, too."
It seemed too easy. But it worked. They were evil sirens, vicious and brutal, but they were just sirens. They practiced what I later heard someone call the world's most common sin: stupidity.
I let them gather their bodies as they made a boat for me. I left Angel behind without even looking at him, or I would have weakened and they would have called my deception. There would be a time to return to him if I succeeded in what I had in mind.
The sirens rowed me while singing other memorable songs. Funny, giddy, and pointless songs. Row, row, row your boat. Mermaid down the sea.
The world was an insane place. Goodness was buried behind cloaks of evil. Happy endings were just in fairy tales. And survival was a day-by-day process. Nothing was too white or too black. Most things loomed behind a veil of grey. Nothing was totally chocolate colored, nor milk colored. Blood was the color in between, the color of life. Blood could be a good thing if given to you to save your life, and a bad thing if you spilled too much of it. I was beginning to learn the game of life. I had a feeling I was going to be a pioneer of the game someday.
Hanging on to my sack, I let them row me to the Jolly Roger. I thought I finally understood the meaning of the sack, why Cinder had given it to me. She had told me she wasn't interested in what was inside, but interested in the valuable meaning of the sack itself—given to her by her mother, many centuries ago. I was also not really interested in what was inside the sack—although Captain Ahab had claimed I could call the Moongirl with it. The sack gave meaning to my journey. Without it there wouldn't be anything to cling to when I was chased by the tides of fate. There was beauty in hoping that one day I could pass it to Lady Shallot and do the right thing, and finally have my reward of living a decent life. I could feel its warmth on my belly as I climbed up to Captain Hook's ship. It wasn't the right thing, what I was about to do. It was just the right thing for today. For now.
I had chosen to survive today. I had chosen the lesser of two evils. Tomorrow it would be another fight. And after, I wouldn't give up.
50
Fable's Dreamworld
"In order for the Princess of Sorrow to live, we need a temporary heart, and we need it right now." Baba Yaga waved her glinting knife toward Fable again. They had no time to discuss what had happened and what was really going on now. "We need to split her chest open and give her a strong heart, until we get the pieces back from each of you!"
Fable realized that she and Baba Yaga were working to save Shew, each for their own reasons. Fable wanted to save her friend, whom she loved, and make sure she ended up with Loki in the Waking World, and maybe live happily ever after. Baba Yaga wanted to save Shew for the Queen, so she could still consume her heart one day.
"Can you take my heart?" Fable said, not really sure of the authenticity of her offer.
"I would rip you into pieces and cook you in my basement oven right now," Baba Yaga said. "Your heart is no good. Not even that glassblower's heart lying on the ground."
Cerené was certainly taking a long nap. Fable wondered why their hearts wouldn't save Shew.
"Your hearts are no good because, if the spell worked, then your hearts weigh more than twenty-one grams," Baba Yaga explained. "And because the stupid universe demands balance, Shew has to get a twenty-one-gram heart to stay alive."
"You mean a boy or a girl who is sixteen years or more?" Fable remembered the talk the Lost Seven had before.
But if the universe demanded balance for the weight of hearts, what was going to happen to them, having opposed it? Was Ladle right about that when she said that the consequences might be dire for each of the Lost Seven?
There was no time for such worries. They needed to save Shew now.
"How long do we have?" Fable said.