“Oh, really?” Mrs. Haynes looked intrigued. “That sounds interesting. Although, that’s a very expansive topic. Do you think you could narrow it down?”
Em picked at the cuff of her deep blue sweater, suddenly feeling nervous. “Well, I’ve heard of this . . . type of creature? They’re called the Furies?” She left the word hanging as a question between them, hoping she wouldn’t have to explain much more.
“Of course! The Furies. Female spirits who appear in most stories in a set of three, right?” Mrs. Haynes tapped her lip with her finger, trying to remember something. “Alecto, Megaera, and . . . oh, what was that third one’s name?”
“Ty,” Em said automatically, and she couldn’t stop Chase’s face from flashing before her eyes. Chase’s sad, tortured face. So scared. So defiant.
“Tisiphone, yes!” Mrs. Haynes was thrilled.
Yeah, they’re pretty great until they start tormenting you, Em thought.
“From what I recall—and forgive me, it’s been years since I’ve really delved into the lesser Greek myths—the Furies were vengeful, correct? Inherently evil?”
“Yes.” Em didn’t even hesitate. “Evil.”
“They exist to drive people mad,” Mrs. Haynes said, nodding briskly. “This sounds like an ideal topic, Emily. May I suggest investigating how and where they have been depicted by different authors? I can’t wait to see what else you come up with.”
Me neither, Em thought dryly. And as she walked toward the computers, Mrs. Haynes’s words rang in her head: They exist to drive people mad. Was that what was happening to her? Her stomach turned as she remembered the five red seeds she’d swallowed at the mall that night. Could that be their effect? Craziness? Were the Furies going to make her insane?
Em took a deep breath and sat down heavily in front of a computer. She made a conscious effort to calm down. She had a chance here—some momentum. She could learn more about the Furies and maybe get a decent English grade. At this point she needed all the help she could get, on both fronts. Nothing good would come of hypothesizing worst-case scenarios. She’d been so paralyzed over the past few weeks that she hadn’t had the energy to sit down and think logically about what was happening to her. This was her chance.
Furies, Greek myth. She typed the terms into the library’s catalog search engine. Only four results came up, all of them located in the classics section toward the back of Ascension High’s library. She marked down the call numbers, picked up her bag, and made her way over to the stacks. She felt a sense of relief as she did so—a sense of empowerment.
She found the books way in the back of the stacks, and she allowed herself a moment to revel in their heavy bindings and musty smells. Old books were her favorite. She chose one at random and started leafing through it. The Furies were only mentioned as a footnote in the chapter about Greek sirens—beautiful creatures who lured sailors to untimely, watery deaths. Em replaced that book on the shelf and chose the next one and then the next one, running her finger down the indexes. She wasn’t finding much. A small mention here, a note in the appendix there.
But she hit pay dirt in the fourth book. A full chapter was devoted to the Furies—their history, their appearances in mythology, their legends. She found herself sinking down right there in the aisle between the shelves, leaning her back against the bookshelves and devouring it. When the bell rang, signaling the end of the period, Em chose to ignore it—she could catch up on French later. At this rate she’d be happy to stay in the library all afternoon—at least through lunch, so that she wouldn’t be forced to decide between Gabby and Drea. She pulled a granola bar from her bag and settled in.
According to stories in the book, entire towns and communities could be affected by the Furies’ presence. The Furies had been blamed over the centuries for everything from droughts and epidemics to mass murders—and the problems always stemmed from the crime or conjuring of an individual or group of individuals. From there, the goddesses of vengeance spread their tentacles, often unjustly. It was like once the Furies had been summoned, they couldn’t be stopped. They wanted more. More revenge. More misery. They wouldn’t leave until they’d had enough. Some believed the Furies had to be specifically called up by an individual desperate for retribution; other myths claimed that the Furies would sometimes appear on their own. And Em read one story that suggested this: If the Furies thought they missed their mark, their wrath increased exponentially.
Em shivered. Again, Chase came to her mind. How guilty he’d felt over what he’d done to Sasha . . . then dead below the overpass, a red orchid in his mouth. And her own punishment for betraying Gabby’s friendship and trust: losing JD, possibly forever.
Would the Furies spread their madness even farther?