This Wicked Fate (This Poison Heart #2)(61)

“Who’s gonna handle that thing?” Marie asked, grinning. “Because I’m low-key interested in being Captain Hook. I know some sea shanties.”

“And why do you know pirate songs?” I asked.

“Long story,” Marie said. “My favorite one goes like this.” She cleared her throat and puffed out her chest like she was about to belt out an entire song at the top of her lungs.

“Do not start,” Circe said. “I will kick you off the ship if you start singing.”

Marie grinned devilishly. “You mean, make me walk the plank?”

Circe rolled her eyes.

Persephone waved as she caught sight of us from the ship’s deck.

“We’ll be ready to go in fifteen minutes,” Circe said. “Persephone has some sailing experience. We should be able to manage it.” She started back down the stairs, then paused. “Marie, could you pull the car around the side of the lighthouse? I’ll make sure we didn’t leave anything behind and meet y’all out there.”

Marie squeezed my hand, and she and Circe left. I lingered for a minute, looking out over the water as it broke against the ship’s belly. There was nothing for as far as I could see. I began to think of Mom in that far-off place. She’d been looking at the sky, too, and I hoped she knew that I was coming for her, that no matter what I had to do or what I had to face, I would find her and bring her home—or die trying. I quickly turned and went back downstairs.

I tossed my bag over my shoulder, readjusted my glasses, and stepped toward the door when suddenly, my ears popped like they had when we’d taken off from the airport in Red Hook. Hermes was seated in the chair by the fireplace like he’d been there all along. My heart almost jumped out of my chest.

He stared into the hearth. “You said you were friends with the boy. Karter.”

I held on to the wall to steady myself. “Yeah. I—I was.”

“Do you believe he is beyond redemption?” He didn’t look at me as he spoke.

“He set me up,” I said. “He helped his mom manipulate me and my parents. He knew what she was doing and he let it happen.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Hermes finally turned to look at me. His brown eyes, wide and searching, held none of the smugness or indifference he’d shown the night before. “Do you think he can be forgiven?”

“I—I don’t think—” I stopped. “Why does it matter to you?”

He stood and closed the gap between us in two steps. My pulse shot up. Towering over me I realized how much he had in common with Hecate. The tall frame, the large hands, the long arms. And somehow, he was smaller than she had been.

He rested his hand on my shoulder, and the weight of it almost made my knees buckle. He drew it back. “I sometimes forget how fragile mortals are. Forgive me.” He straightened up. “You have a perilous journey ahead of you. I do wish you the best.”

It was a hollow gesture. He didn’t believe we’d make it, so wishing us the best was kind of ridiculous. “What did you say to Marie?” I asked. “She was really upset.”

“I was under the impression that she’d accepted her fate.”

“Her fate? What’s that supposed to mean?”

He was quiet for a moment before answering. “I think it’s best not to say.” He moved toward the stairs. “The sirens do not take prisoners,” he said, changing the subject. “They do not compromise. They will lure you to the water’s edge and drag you to a watery grave without hesitation.”

“Um. Okay,” I said, a little confused. “I was kind of hoping you’d have something else for me. Circe said something about a lyre. Do you know where I can get one by any chance?”

Hermes raised one bushy brow. He glanced around the room. “I’m sorry to say I haven’t been in possession of that particular object in a thousand years. I suppose you’ll have to use Odysseus’s method.”

“Remind me of what that was,” I said.

“Tie yourselves to the mast and hope for the best.”

I blinked and caught a glimpse of his gold sandals as he ascended the staircase and disappeared.

Outside, a narrow stone pathway snaked around to the bluff, and a rickety staircase made from weathered wood and rusted metal rails led down to the shore. I descended the steps and stood among the rocks slicked with green moss and sea silt as Circe and Marie climbed into a small dinghy tethered at the water’s edge.

“Ready?” Marie called.

I climbed in beside them, and Marie rowed us out to the ship. We scrambled up a ladder and onto the deck.

I’d never been on a boat bigger than the ferries that crisscrossed the East River. The ship Hermes secured for us looked like Blackbeard was gonna pop out at any moment and tell us to swab the deck. I heard the unmistakable beating of the Absyrtus Heart coming from somewhere below me.

“Here ya go, Marie,” Circe said. “You wanted to be Captain Hook? Have at it.”

Marie grinned. She looked around the ship and scrunched her nose up. “Everybody gotta say the word ‘matey.’ That’s the rule. Ahoy, matey!”

“Nobody ever actually said that,” Persephone said as she emerged from a small room at the front of the ship.

“You’d know,” Circe said.