Silent Echo (26 page)

“Why not? What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Um, he’ll think you’re insane and might try to have you committed!”

“No, Felix wouldn’t do that to me.”

Leucosia sat down in her desk chair and wearily massaged the tight muscles of her neck. She was running on reserve power, feeling every year of her infinite age.

“Leucosia, listen to me. Felix might be able to help me over the next couple of weeks—you know, keep me in check. He’s the only one who’s immune to my voice, right? I just…I need him right now. And now that he’s back from Canada, he’s definitely noticed that something is off with me. I feel like every day since the café is just pushing us further apart, and I can’t let that happen. I need him…”

Portia’s tone had become desperate, a hint of silver clouding her tear ducts.

“Perhaps I can persuade Zeus to allow this one transgression, Portia. It is not customary for immortals to identify themselves as such. But I suppose I understand your need for a true friend right now. I mean, other than me—I guess our age difference does prove a bit of an obstacle. But I urge you to be selective in what you reveal. We don’t want Felix to try anything heroic that might put him in the way of further harm.”

“What do you mean ‘further harm’?”

“No, I meant harm—any harm. I’m just weary, Portia. Now, tell me, how exactly do you plan on revealing yourself?”

Leucosia hoped that the young Siren had a plan, because sure as Hades, for once, she did not…

♪

The next day Portia found it especially grueling to suffer through Mr. Morrison’s class. Another sleepless night had passed with her rehearsing the many different ways she could try to convince Felix of who—make that what—she really was. Now she sat in the Homeric elective feeling like Plato taking Philosophy 101. If anything, she could be teaching Mr. Morrison a thing or two.

When she walked into class that day, the word “Hades” was scrawled out in big letters on the blackboard, sending an instant shiver down her spine.

This oughta be interesting
.

She took a seat next to Felix. Max had opted to sit in the back, keeping his distance from her after she had made some callous remarks to him that morning about his music not going anywhere now that he had dropped out of Performing Arts. She shuddered at the memory and was actually happy to see him take a stance against her cruelty. She turned to look at him, but he stared her down, shaming her into looking away first.

“So today we are going to speak about the underworld…” began the teacher. “The Halls of Hades have always confused me a bit—”

Yeah, you and every other God.

“…Who can tell me why Odysseus set out for Hades in the first place?”

Zachary Wilson’s hand shot up in the air.

Does he actually have an intelligent thought in his head?

“Circe told him that he needed to get a prophecy from that blind prophet Tiresias.”

“Yes, very good, Mr. Wilson. I’ve always wondered about Tiresias. It seems odd to me that Homer depicted the dead prophet as still retaining his powers to see the future, yet all the other spirits Homer saw were essentially just sad and useless.”

Portia’s ears suddenly perked up. How could she never have thought of this? When she had read
The Odyssey
, she had been so caught up in the emotion of Odysseus seeing his own mother in Hades that she had barely paid attention to the Tiresias part. Now she felt like she was on the precipice of discovering a monumental piece of the puzzle. She raised her hand.

“Does it ever say anywhere why Tiresias was blind? I mean, was he born that way?”

Mr. Morrison sat on his desk. “That is an excellent, if somewhat off-topic question, Ms. Griffin. There are several theories bandied about that would explain the prophet’s blindness. My favorite one is that, no, indeed he was not born blind, and then one day he spied on Athena, who was bathing naked…”

A few snickers emerged from the less mature students in the class.

“Anyway, they say that the Goddess was so embarrassed that she actually blinded the prophet irreversibly. Pretty harsh, don’t you think? Maybe they pitied him down in Hades, and that’s why he was able to keep his prophetic powers even after his death.”

The teacher got up and picked up his book. “Now, if you’ll turn to page eighty-eight—”

“Holy shit—that’s it!”

The whole class turned to look at Portia, including Felix, who was shocked to see Ellen Chadwicke signing out the expletive.

“Ms. Griffin, did you have something to add?”

“Yes…um, I mean, sorry. The cursing, it turns out, isn’t really in my control. Are you saying that Tiresias was still able to see the future even though he was dead because the Gods of the underworld pitied him?”

“Yes, that is one theory…but, again, quite off topic. Now, back to page eighty—”

“Um, sorry, sorry Mr. Morrison. Can I be excused?” She got up to leave before he answered. “On second thought, I don’t need your permission.”

The words shot out of her mouth without any prompting from her brain. It was a terrifying proof that her newly formed hypothesis was undoubtedly correct.

♪

When Portia got to Leucosia’s office, there was one of those tacky signs on the door with a clock indicating that the nurse wouldn’t be back for an hour. She couldn’t wait that long. She had to test her theory now.

Charlotte had Poetry Slam now—she knew because they had rehearsed her poem last night. She was incredibly nervous about performing it in front of the class. It was called ‘Name Change’ and it revealed her neighbor’s conflicting feelings on whether or not she should change her surname back to her original father’s or if she should keep Trotter so that she’d:

“remember the pain, remember the blame, and always, always, add fuel to the flame…”

When Portia peered into the classroom, her heart went out to Charlotte, who was standing in the front of the room, baring her soul for all to see. She detected a tremor in Charlotte’s hands—she had also been nervous yesterday when she had read aloud for Portia.

I might as well test my theory now…

She opened the door to the classroom a crack and closed her eyes, bringing back the lines of Charlotte’s poem from yesterday’s trial run.

Suddenly Charlotte’s posture rose up and her voice traveled down a path of steady amplification:

“You say it’s just a name,

And to you it’s all the same,

Your fortune, your fame,

In mine there’s so much shame…”

Charlotte’s eyes registered shock at her own sudden fortified stage presence. Portia noticed the trembling in her hands slow down, and she could have sworn Charlotte grew in height while she delivered the end of the poem.

“But truth is, it’s part of me,

My own identity,

So brand it in and burn it.

Charlotte’s my name—so learn it.”

Charlotte looked into the eyes of her classmates, who were riveted by her poem.

“I swear to God I’ve earned it…”

The class erupted into wild applause, which seemed to further shock the typically stage-terrified Charlotte.

“Um, excuse me,” Portia interrupted the applause. “Would you mind excusing Charlotte Trotter for the rest of class?”

The clapping stalled as the class looked up to see who had the audacity to interrupt this moment.

“
Portia, I’m in the middle of something.” Charlotte flushed red with embarrassment.

Portia looked at the teacher. “Allow me to rephrase—you
will
excuse Charlotte for the rest of class.”

The girls were headed down the hall in a flash.

♪

“Portia, what the hell was that about? You know I love that class.” They were safely tucked away in the stacks bathroom, where Portia noted that the mirror above the sink had been replaced.

Tread lightly…tread lightly…

“Yes, I’m sorry about that, Charlotte. But I have a sort of emergency.”

“What emergency? What are you talking about?”

“Charlotte, listen, I have to confess—I spied on your slam. I was, um, worried cuz you seemed so nervous yesterday. You sounded great! How’d you feel while you were reading it?”

Charlotte softened a bit at Portia’s inquiry. “You’re right, I was so nervous last night. And then today, I started out nervous, but then, like, all of a sudden it was actually pretty amazing…I just stopped being scared. But I kind of feel guilty. Like I stole something. It felt like it wasn’t really me speaking the words—only it was me. I think. But I’m not sure why you had to call me out of class about that right now. You’ve been acting so weird lately…” She let the words trail off.

“Yes, I know I have, Charlotte, and please let me get this out while I’m still lucid—I don’t know how much time I have. Although I have a feeling that this room is a safe zone for me now.”

Charlotte stared at her in utter confusion.

“Anyway, I had this idea in class before, and I wanted to test it out. It’s kind of like a ventriloquist thing, only you were the dummy.”

“Look, Portia,” Charlotte actually looked a little panicked, “I owe you my life. Not to mention what a great friend you have been, but—”

“Am
azing Grace, how sweet the sound…

That saved a wretch like me…

I once was lost but now am found…

Was blind, but now I see…
”

When the solo was over, Charlotte was breathing hard. “Jesus Christ. What the hell was that? Did I just sing that?”

Portia was both terrified and delighted at her new discovery.

“Sort of. I mean, actually, it was me singing through you. The same with the poem. I delivered the words through you, but you felt them, right? I mean, I saw your eyes well up—I know you were feeling it… and just now you felt the high of the music, right? Of the voice?”

“Are you kidding?” Charlotte said, almost giddy. “You should dime bag it and sell it—whatever
it
was.”

“So it’s not my subconscious. Well, I mean, it is, but Parthenope and Ligeia—they never fully lost their powers. They’re speaking through me. That’s why I have no control over some of the things that come out of my mouth.”

She forgot that Charlotte was there, theorizing aloud, exploring all the possible angles.

“It all comes down to everyone’s need for a mother’s love, I guess. I mean, these evil witches—they are actually pitied down under. It’s unbelievable. That’s why their spirits are so mobile. That’s why Morpheus can’t keep them out of my dreams. And that’s why they’re not just spirits. They have powers—like Tiresias. Oh God, oh God. This is not good. Where the hell is Leucosia? This is not good.”

Charlotte had started to inch toward the door, the fear more apparent in her eyes. “Portia, you’re freaking me out. I think I should get back to class…”

And then Portia remembered her promise to Leucosia—Felix would be the only one that she would reveal herself to.

And so she did the only thing she could think to do:

Erase a Memory.

♪

After guiltily erasing Charlotte’s memory, Portia went to see if Leucosia was back, but the nurse didn’t return at all that day. And once Portia had confirmed that indeed Parthenope and Ligeia were not quite as “powerless” as she had hoped, her anxiety was mounting at an exponential rate.

Learn to Calm Yourself with Voice Alone.

She tried. She really did. But she couldn’t go it alone. She needed someone, and Charlotte was definitely out of the question. Max was pretty much off the table, too, considering how maliciously she had been toying with him all day.

There was no avoiding it.

She approached Felix right before last period. “Hey—do you think you can come over after school today? There’s something I need to talk to you about.” It was still so strange to speak to him aloud, so she signed out the request.

“I don’t know…I think I have a literary journal meeting…” She was continually amazed at his ability to imbue his words with sarcasm even though he couldn’t actually hear them.

“Felix, I’m not kidding. I need you.”

“Since when? Besides, I have plans to study with Gabrielle—”

“Cancel them,” she ordered out loud.

He stood motionless for a second, and she wondered if maybe the voice had penetrated the barrier between them.

“Why the hell should I cancel? Because you happen to have some time for me this afternoon?”

OK, so the voice was not going to work. Instead she went for brutal honesty.

“Felix, don’t you want to know why I’ve been acting so, um, fickle lately?”

“Fickle? I would have gone with bitchy. Maybe ruthless. But fickle?” She definitely had his attention now. “Does this all have to do with Max? Cause I gotta say, I’m not missing a date with Gabrielle for that…” His voice lowered steadily, though, and she could sense his resolve dwindling.

“It does have to do with Max, Felix, but not in the way you think. In fact, you’ll be happy to know that a part of me actually wants to kill Max.”

“Yeah, by the way, I’m not really digging your sense of humor too much lately, either.”

If only I was kidding…

But she persisted, flashing him her best puppy eyes.

“OK, I’ll reschedule Gabrielle. I guess I can hop a ride with my parents when they come to pick your folks up for dinner. You better not be wasting my—”

But she was already walking away. She needed to try to make amends with Max before the day was out.

She found him at his locker, angrily flinging a few books into his knapsack. Taking in a deep breath, she approached him cautiously.

“Hey,” she said humbly.

He slammed his locker shut.

“What do you want, Portia?” His voice was a serrated blade, each jagged tooth cutting her to the quick.

“I, um, just wanted to apologize for my behavior today—you know, all those nasty comments I made about your music. I’m not sure what came over me. You know I would never intentionally try to hurt you.”