Rebel Angels
Page 57
Ann reaches a hand down, but she cannot reach."Oh, I wish I could touch them," she says.
"Why can't we?" Pippa asks. "Gorgon, lower the plank, if you please."
The gorgon does not answer and does not slow.
The women are so beautiful; their song is so lovely.
"Gorgon," I say."Lower the plank."
The snakes writhe as if in pain. "Is that your wish, Most High?" "Yes, it is my wish."
The great ship slows and the plank is lowered till it hovers just above the water. Our skirts gathered in our hands, we rush out and crouch down, looking for signs of them.
"Where are they?" Ann asks.
"I don't know," I say.
Felicity's on all fours, the ends of her hair trailing in the water."Perhaps they've gone."
I stand, trying to peer through the fog. Something cold and wet caresses my ankle. I shriek and wobble just as the creature's webbed hand curves away from my leg, leaving sparkling scales on my stocking.
"Oh, no! I've scared it away," I say. Its mermaid-like body slips under the plank and disappears.
The surface of the river is covered in a thick, oily sheen. After a moment, the creatures emerge once more. They seem as fascinated by us as we are by them. They bob in the small currents, their strange hands moving back and forth, back and forth.
Ann gets down on her knees."Hello."
One of the creatures moves close and begins to sing.
"Oh, how lovely," Ann says.
Indeed, their song is so sweet, I want to follow them into the water and hear it forever. A crowd of them has gathered, six, then seven, then ten of them. With each addition, the song grows, becomes more powerful. I am drowning in its beauty.
One creature attaches herself to the boat. She meets my gaze. Her eyes are huge, like mirrors of the ocean itself. I look into them and see myself falling fast into the deep, where all light vanishes. She reaches up to stroke my face. Her song floats about my face.
"Gemma! Don't!" I'm vaguely aware of Pippa calling my name, but it blends into the song and becomes a melody inviting me into the river. Gemma . . . Gemma . . . Gemma . . . Pippa yanks me back rudely and we fall to the plank in a pile. The nymphs' song becomes a fierce shriek that sends gooseflesh rushing up my back.
"That thing nearly pulled you under!" Pippa says. Her eyes widen."Ann!" she shouts.
Ann has slipped both legs over the side of the plank. The most ecstatic smile crosses her lips as one of the things strokes her leg and sings so sweetly it would break the heart. Felicity reaches a hand out, her fingers inches from the webbed hands of two creatures.
"No!" Pippa and I shout in unison.
I grab Ann as Pippa ropes her arms round Felicity. They struggle against us, but we pull them back.
The creatures let loose another horrible screech. In a rage, they grab at the plank as if they mean to shake us into the water or rip it off completely.
Ann cowers in Pippa's arms while Felicity kicks at their hands with her boots.
"Gorgon!" I shout."Help us!"
"Omata!" It's the gorgon's voice now, booming and commanding."Omata! Leave them be or we shall use the nets!"
The creatures scream and back away. They look at us with disappointment before slipping slowly under the water again. There is nothing but an oily sheen on the surface to prove they've been here. I practically push the others onto the boat.
"Gorgon, lift the plank!" I shout.
"As you wish," she answers, pulling up the heavy wing. The bald, shiny women do not like this. They screech again.
"What are those things?" I say, panting.
"Water nymphs," the gorgon answers, as if I see them daily for tea. " They are fascinated by your skin." "Are they harmless?" Ann says, rubbing at the colorful scales on her stocking.
"That depends," the gorgon says.
Felicity stares down at the water."Depends on what?"
The gorgon continues."On how bewitching they find you. If they are particularly enchanted, they'll try to lure you away with them to their pond. Once they have you trapped, they will take your skin."
When I realize how close I came to following them into the depths, I'm shaking all over.
"I want to go back," Ann whimpers.
So do I."Gorgon, take us back to the garden at once," I order.
"As you wish," she says.
Behind us, I see the water nymphs poking above the churning surface, their glistening heads bobbing on the water like jewels from a lost treasure. A snippet of their beautiful song finds us, and for a moment, I drift toward the edge of the ship, wanting once again to dive under. We pull forward with a lurch, moving away from them, and their song turns to rage, a sound like birds deprived of food.