The Fate of the Muse

chapter TWELVE

COUNCIL





Evie had laid out an outfit for me, and I slipped on the chic dress she’d chosen, donning a pair of heavy gold Versace cuffs like armor. I applied my makeup as deliberately as war paint, smoothing my hair back and pinning it up. I scrutinized my reflection in the mirror, satisfied that I looked like someone who fit right in with the high fashion crowd. Dressed to the nines, polished and pampered, the girl in the mirror looked back at me with worried eyes.

I slipped on some oversized sunglasses and set out to do battle.

Boris had a car waiting in front of the hotel, and he escorted us to Shayla’s second fashion show. We were seated between a pampered American heiress and an Italian film star, both of whom could scarcely take their eyes away from Evie. This time I was too preoccupied to be amused by the spectacle, anxious for the meeting to commence so I could go home and see Ethan. I planned to call him as soon as we finished, and I couldn’t wait to tell him that it was all over.

I missed him desperately, but I also craved the comfort of a good long surfing session. I thought about the wave in my dream and licked my lips, expecting salt, but tasting only waxy lipstick.

Daydreaming about surfing with Lorelei had seen me through many a boring high school lecture, and I soothed my nervous mind with thoughts of my mermaid sisters. I decided I would go out to see Nerissa and Nixie as soon as I got home. Telling Evie about it had only raised more questions, and given my newfound powers of telepathy, perhaps with a little effort I could pry some answers out of their pretty little heads.

As awful as our ordeal at Peter’s hands had been, a new mermaid was created out of it. Maybe it was meant to be, and Peter was doomed to die for his crimes. Like seeds that would only sprout when the forest was burned down around them, it was possible that the creation of a new immortal had to come out of another’s destruction.

I was lost in my musings, pondering the bizarre nature of mermaid reproduction, when the lights dimmed and the throbbing beat of the music filled the room. Shayla opened the show, strutting out boldly, sporting an outrageously fringed leather jacket, paired with the shortest of short skirts that showed off her long, strong legs. The crowd went silent, mesmerized; they had obviously read all about the latest runway star. The designer was ecstatic– this kind of buzz was priceless, and she had clearly put Shayla front and center to milk it for all it was worth.

A procession of colorful and luxurious clothes paraded by, and by the time the show ended it was clear Shayla had scored another tremendous success. She was bold, fresh and unaffected, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she had the crowd’s undivided attention.

She walked the last outfit slowly and dreamily, demurely sporting a spectacular shell pink bridal gown, her hair piled high on her head and adorned with a crown of handpainted silk roses. She looked ethereally beautiful, like a fairytale princess, and a hush fell over the room. The crowd finally recovered, standing to deliver another ovation.

“We leave here in about fifteen minutes,” Evie whispered in my ear, “Why don’t you go congratulate Shayla while I say hello to a few people.”

We went backstage after the show and parted ways. I turned around to see Evie almost imperceptibly shift into star mode as she stepped into a whirlwind of air kisses from her rich and fashionable friends. I headed for the dressing room to look for Shayla.

A young woman with a mane of glossy black curls intercepted me, placing a hand on my arm, “Give me one minute,” she said under her breath, looking around furtively. One glance into her sparkling golden brown eyes made me catch my breath. It was another one of them. I panicked, scanning the crowd for Evie.

“Please,” she said with intensity, “I’m here to warn you.”

I followed her around the corner of a dressing room screen.

“Watch out for Olivia,” she hissed.

“Who?”

She spoke quickly, in a Spanish accented voice, “Olivia knows everything. She was controlling Peter… The man was an imbicile! Twas all her idea, and she is using the Edwards family for her own purposes… But it backfired on them, didn’t it?”

I stepped back, alarmed.

She scrutinized me, searching my eyes, “You must be very powerful. You can do it too… can’t you? I can tell.”

“Do what?” I gasped.

“The visions, the seeing of what is yet to come.”

I was speechless that she guessed.

“I saw what Olivia has planned for you.” she said ominously.

“Has planned?”

She looked over her shoulder, “Do not trust her!”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because it’s wrong– what they wanted to do… What she still wants.”

I stepped back, suspicious, “How do you know what they wanted?”

“Twas in my vision, Olivia was speaking to that Edwards man about watching you... about having you taken in Paris and brought to them again.”

I was dumbfounded. If she was telling the truth, and her visions were anything like mine, then the danger didn’t die with Peter. They were still going to try and control me. I had to tell Evie right away.

“Leave Paris at once! Stay away from Olivia,” she hissed at me.

I was horrified, “Who are you?”

“I’m Marissa.” She leaned forward intensely, “Do not breathe a word to Evelyn! Olivia mustn’t think for an instant that she suspects anything. Your phones are not secure, and neither is Evelyn’s plane, so do not use it… Evelyn thinks that Olivia is her friend, so she cannot know in advance. Your leaving must be a surprise to both of them.”

“Why?”

“If Olivia thinks that Evelyn suspects…” she looked genuinely afraid, and glanced over her shoulder again, “She can be very dangerous. I believe that she had Peter’s mother killed to gain control of him and the Edwards fortune.”

My eyes flew open, “Why should I believe you?”

Her eyes met mine, and something in them moved me, “Because it’s the truth. I have nothing to gain, and if I get caught–”

She turned on her heel and sped off just as Shayla and her friends rounded the corner, giggly and glowing with post-show relief.

“That was intense!” Shayla screeched, throwing her arms around me, “You’re not gonna believe what just happened!”

She went on to tell me breathlessly how her mention of surfing in the interviews had attracted the attention of a powerful booking agent. She had landed the lucrative and coveted Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition, and it was her absolute dream job.

“And get this! It’s a surfer themed edition and they’re shooting it in Hawaii!” she squeaked out the last word.

“Uh, great,” I said, still trying to process what I’d just heard.

Shayla’s hands dug into my arms, “They wanted a girl who could really shred in the pictures and not just stand there with the boards!” She jumped up and down, unable to contain her excitement, “They’ll be like, dudes there too! Surfers are gonna be like, props for the models!”

She threw her head back and laughed at the thought; I could tell it was sweet revenge for the years of condescension she’d gotten as the only girl surfer in Aptos.

“That’s great Shayla,” I was truly happy for her. At least things were looking up for one of us.

She took me by the shoulders, suddenly serious, “They shoot on Thursday, and they wanted me to do it so bad they’re chartering a jet that leaves tomorrow morning. Just for me! Jacques made sure that they’d have me back for the weekend, so we can be back by Saturday… Please, please, please come with me!”

“Hawaii? I didn’t even pack a swimsuit…”

Shayla rolled her eyes at me dramatically, “Marina, we’re going to a swimsuit shoot!”

“I don’t know,” I said, but all I could think of was the blue wave from my dream beckoning. I thought about Kimo’s descriptions about surfing in Hawaii and my mouth went dry. I would give anything to be going surfing, instead of heading out to face the inquisition. The sound of the water came rushing back to my mind and I felt the urge to surf so badly I started to tremble.

“We can surf all day…” she said enticingly, “And after the shoot too!”

There was no way I could resist that. I bit my lip and started to plan out loud, “I suppose I could fly back to San Francisco from Hawaii and pick up my car…”

“Yes! Yes! YES!” she screamed, jumping up and down. “This is gonna be so sick!”

I looked up to see Evie coming towards us and thought fast, “Don’t say anything to Evie. Let me break it to her.”

“No prob,” said Shayla with a wink, stepping forward to greet Evie.

I can’t explain exactly what made me keep it from her, but I decided to wait until after the meeting to tell Evie about the strange conversation I’d just had with Marissa. Funny, I thought, the universe was giving me exactly what she’d recommended– an immediate way out of Paris that didn’t involve Evie. The synergy of two muses standing side by side must amplify our strange power.

Evie congratulated Shayla, proclaiming her an unqualified success. She gushed about the swimsuit shoot in Hawaii, having just heard the news from Jacques. If two muses were better than one, Shayla was guaranteed success. Evie embraced her goodbye, wishing her the best of luck.

I hugged her too, whispering in her ear instructions to pick me up at the hotel in the morning. Shayla squeezed me hard, winked, and drifted off with a little band of models that trailed after her worshipfully. Cruz would have loved it.

“Shayla!” I called out after her, longing to be going anywhere but where I was headed.

“What?”

“See you soon.”





The council meeting took place at yet another grand hotel in Paris. This time, Boris escorted us in, and stood stoically by Evie’s side as we took the elevator up to a suite of rooms on the top floor. I thought about what Marissa had told me and steeled myself. I closed my eyes and imagined I was already in Hawaii, surfing inside the turquoise blue wave of my dream. At least I knew relief was on the way, and I latched on to the thought, rolling it around and around in the back of my mind like a soothing strand of prayer beads.

The door opened and we passed down a long hallway to find a woman standing in the threshold, waiting for our arrival. “Your man will have to wait outside,” she told Evie, who nodded to Boris.

He took a position opposite the door, his arms crossed, “Da.”

My mouth was dry with dread as we stepped into the room and looked around. There were about twenty women seated at a conference table, leaning forward with an air of excited anticipation. The power in the room was palpable, electric, and my hair stood on end as I scanned their upturned faces. I felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter.

A stunning red haired woman in a python print dress stood, and approached us with a friendly smile.

“Darling Evie!” she said, her arms open wide. Our eyes locked over Evie’s shoulder as they embraced, and something inside me recoiled.

“Olivia!” Evie drew back and returned her smile. It was clear that they liked each other.

“This is Marina,” said Evie, gesturing proudly in my direction.

Olivia took both my hands and beamed at me warmly, the very picture of sincerity, “It’s so good to finally meet you.”

My eyes darted across the room to the seated women. All beautiful, there were women of every different age and nationality represented. Besides their unparralled good looks, there was nothing obvious– nothing on the surface that would tie them all together. However, the more I looked at them, the more I could see that each one vibrated with the unmistakable force of charm combined with power.

They were unusual, a formidable group. I was surrounded by my own kind, and the more I looked, the easier it became for me to recognize the magic each one possessed in varying degrees. I realized that it really did take one to know one.

Some smiled welcomingly, some stared intensely, but most of them wore an expression of eager expectation. I saw Marissa seated in the group; her face was smooth and impassive, but her eyes darted away from mine nervously.

“Please, have a seat,” said an elegant looking grey haired woman, standing and gesturing to an empty space at the head of the table. She took a place next to me as I sat down numbly, still scanning all the faces. It felt like the first day of high school all over again, but they were curious about far more than just where I had come from.

“We’d like to welcome you to our little group of friends,” she said, her hair reflecting silver in the overhead lighting. She patted my shoulder soothingly, “I know it’s a difficult adjustment to make. Each one of us here remembers our first council.” The room filled with murmurs and nods of sympathy.

I turned to Evie for reassurance, but Olivia had her by the arm, and was leading her out of the room, “I’m sorry darling,” Olivia purred, “But I was out-voted on this one. You’ll simply have to wait in the next room while they ask her a few questions.”

So that was the plan. They would question me independently to try and trip me up. I was happy that Evie and I had gone over the details so carefully. When Olivia returned she took a seat at the head of the table opposite me. She nodded and smiled reassuringly.

Then the questions started. The first thing they did was thrust a stack of tabloids in my face.

“They seem to think that you’re a shape shifter,” a gorgeous blonde said, point blank. She looked familiar, and I realized that I recognized her from a spy film I once saw.

“They’re wrong,” I stared her down, “I’m not.”

“Then how do you explain these?” another woman asked.

“They’re tabloids,” I replied, “They make up stuff.”

A stunning brunette sporting a priceless emerald necklace narrowed her eyes at me, pointing a squared off nail to a blurry image on one cover that showed a flash of tail, “Explain that!”

“Haven’t you ever heard of Photoshop?” I said dryly, “Apparently there’s an alien bat baby out there too.”

There were a few snickers around the table and the brunette looked annoyed, “That’s quite a coincidence, isn’t it? You being an actual hybrid...”

“Stranger things have happened,” I said with a shrug.

“It defies logic,” said an exotically turbaned woman, craning her graceful neck to get a better look at me.

“I lost my top in the helicopter crash,” I said, rolling my eyes, “I think that sort of made mermaid the obvious choice… I suppose they could have given me shark teeth too.”

Now some of them openly laughed, and I started to relax a little bit.

“What about Peter?” A petite Asian woman asked, her shiny black hair gleaming like Nerissa’s in the overhead lights, “What were your dealings with him?”

My heart began to race at the mention of his name and I took a deep shaky breath. “He believed the stories they printed, and he kidnapped me. It was terrible… he was completely obsessed...”

She leaned forward in her seat, “It makes no sense. He knew better than anyone that a muse cannot be forced to perform.”

I met her luminous grey eyes soberly, “Surely,” I said, “You’ve had to contend with an unwanted admirer at one time or another?”

There was another murmuring of agreement that rumbled through the room, and I knew that I had done it. They all understood how their powers could be unpredictable at times, inspiring the wrong kind of passion in the wrong kind of person.

The first blonde shook her head angrily, accusing me in a loud voice, “He claimed that you were working with him. I think you had him killed to silence him.”

“Now, now, there’s no call for that kind of nastiness,” said Olivia from the end of the table. She beamed at me maternally, and Marissa’s warnings flashed into my mind. Snake in the grass, I thought.

I met the blonde woman’s gaze directly, “The wealthy family he convinced to help him did it. They wanted a muse, and he promised to deliver me. They supplied the location, and when it didn’t work out they got rid of him to cover it up.”

She nodded slowly, keeping eye contact, “She’s telling the truth.”

“How did you escape?” a wide eyed young woman with white blonde hair asked from the seat next to Marissa. She seemed excited by the prospect of a kidnapping, almost as if it was a fun thing that should have happened to her.

“I got lucky,” I replied with grim finality. It was the truth, and I could see them exchange little meaningful glances amongst themselves. I knew that no further explanation was necessary; they were all lucky women. They relaxed in their chairs and I realized that it was over. I felt a little foolish for getting so worked up about it. That had been easy.

There were no questions about the mermaids kidnapped along with me, so clearly no one knew about them. Either that, or someone was keeping it a secret. I glanced at Marissa and then Olivia, uncertain as to which one I should trust. I wondered who Peter had spoken to on his last fateful call.

Olivia beamed at me, standing up, “If there are no more questions, I’ll go get Evelyn now.”





When we were safely in the elevator, relaxing under Boris’ watchful eyes, I asked her, “Aunt Evie, do you know which of them Peter called?”

“Olivia,” she said, “Luckily for us.”

“Why?” I asked.

“She’s been wonderful,” Evie beamed, “And she told me you did a spectacular job defending yourself.”

I paused, dying to tell her everything, but curiously unable to, “Olivia … how well do you know her?”

“She’s one of my dearest friends,” Evie smiled, “We’ve been in close contact for weeks now, and she’s been advising me as to what to have you say. It’s been a great comfort to me throughout this whole ordeal.”