“There are a few other gems in here,” Harper said, trying to change the subject and ease her dad’s sadness. “We may not have figured out how to break the curse yet, but there are definitely plenty of things in the journal to give Gemma hope.”
“But Thalia knew they were coming for her.” Brian pushed his plate aside, too interested in what his daughter was saying to eat anymore, and he rested his forearms on the table. “You said that, right? Why did they want to kill her? And how did she know they were coming for her?”
“I don’t know why they wanted to kill her, exactly. They might’ve just been looking for information. Muses kept a lot of secrets, so maybe they were torturing and killing them to find something out.
“But it wasn’t until after she came to Maryland that she began to worry about their finding her,” Harper realized, staring at the cover of the journal. “When she first met Bernie, she was in England, and she mentioned nothing about the sirens. It was when she came here, she began to fear them.”
“How did they end up in Maryland?”
“Didn’t Bernie ever tell you?” Harper asked.
“He said he was following Thalia,” Brian said. “But I never knew why she came here.”
“Thalia wanted to become mortal,” Harper explained. “Muses had all kinds of weird stipulations about love and how long they could be with someone, and she wanted to give all that up to be with Bernie. But she needed to find a god or goddess to help her.”
Brian took a sip from his coffee. “And that brought her to Capri?”
“She’d heard that Achelous was here, but he wasn’t.”
“Okay.” Brian nodded, but still looked confused. “And who is Achelous again?”
“He’s the freshwater god, and he happens to be the sirens’ father. Well, Penn and Thea’s, anyway.”
“So Thalia came here looking for the sirens’ dad, and the sirens are looking for her. That can’t be a coincidence.”
“No, I wouldn’t think so,” Harper agreed, thinking about what Professor Pine had said about coincidences. “But the thing is … Thalia never found him.”
“Found who?” Gemma yawned as she walked into the kitchen.
Harper glanced up at her sister, who had apparently just woken up. Her hair was coming loose from a sleep-disheveled bun, and she wore the same T-shirt and sweats she’d fallen asleep in last night.
“Achelous,” Harper answered, as Gemma sat down in the chair between her and their dad.
“Did you get any sleep?” Brian asked, eyeing his daughter. Gemma looked a little tired, but her siren beauty masked most of the signs, so it was hard to tell exactly how tired she might be.
“I got enough,” Gemma said, and she reached over and grabbed part of the pancake left on her dad’s plate. While Gemma didn’t strictly need human food any longer, she still had an appetite for it. Even though it no longer tasted nearly as good as when she was human, she had still managed to acquire a taste for it again. “Are you done with this?”
“Yeah, but I can make more,” Brian offered, but she was already taking a bite.
“I’m fine,” she said after she swallowed it down. “Achelous is dead. Lexi told me.”
“Yeah, but … Lexi was an idiot,” Harper pointed out.
“True.” Gemma licked her lips. “But she seemed convinced of it. And nobody’s seen Achelous in like two hundred years. So I’m inclined to think she was right.”
“So how did Thalia become mortal if she never found a god?” Brian asked.
“She didn’t find Achelous, but she did find a god,” Harper said. “Or a goddess, actually. Diana.”
Brian shook his head. “Who’s Diana?”
“Thalia only devotes a sentence or two to her in the journal.” Harper had reread the part about Diana at least fifty times, hoping it would provide new insight, and she quoted it verbatim for her dad: “It is with the aid of the goddess Diana that I am able to make the transformation from muse back to mortal. About her, I can say nothing more. She guards her privacy more fiercely even than I do.”
“That’s where this gets weird,” Gemma said, and she’d begun to perk up. She pulled her knees up to her chest and leaned forward on the table. “Diana is a Roman goddess of hunting and the moon and werewolves or something. She’s this strong feminist, and certain Wiccans worship her.”
“I thought it didn’t say anything more about her in the journal?” Brian asked.
“It doesn’t. In my recent research of all things mythological, I’ve been studying up on everything,” Gemma explained. “And I picked up some information about Diana. But that’s my point. She’s not a Greek goddess. She’s Roman.”
“So?” Harper shrugged, not seeing the weird part. “They’re similar. And Lydia mentioned Horace before, and he’s Egyptian. Just because the gods have a different etymology, it doesn’t mean they don’t exist. And beyond that, I would assume that different cultures had different names for the same god.”
“So this Diana goddess, is she still around here?” Brian asked.
“I don’t know,” Harper said. “I don’t think they ever were around here, per se.”