Rebel Angels

Page 136

"Ann?" I whisper, then more urgently, "Ann!"
"Gemma?" she says, as if briefly waking from a drugged stupor. "Is that you?"
"Yes." I whisper. "We've come for you. Hold still." I loop the rope around Ann's waist and tie it tight. My fingers are slippery with lagoon water, but I am able to loosen the knots that hold her feet and hands. Ann slides into the water with a little splash.
"Gemma!" Felicity whisper-yells from the shore. "Don't let her drown."
I pull up on the rope and Ann bobs to the surface, coughing, awake. She thrashes about.
"Ann! Shush! You'll bring them . . ."
Too late. Across the lagoon, the nymphs have ended their meeting with the beastly girls in white. They see what I'm about. Angry and snarling, they let loose with a fierce screech that rips through me. They do not like that I've dared to take their pet. Then there is only the silvery bow of their backs as they dive under, one by one, swimming fast for us, hungry for our pretty skin.
I push off from the rock, towing Ann. I can feel Miss Moore drawing hard on the rope, but we're both struggling against Ann's dead weight.
"Come on, Annie, you've got to swim for it," I plead.
She does a groggy crawl, her arms thrashing about in the water, but we're no match for the furious nymphs coming our way.
I scream, no longer caring to keep quiet. "Pull! On the rope--pull hard!"
Felicity and Pippa rush to aid Miss Moore. Grunting and straining, they tug as hard as they can. We plow violently through the water. It's not enough.
"Use the nets!" I screech, taking in a mouthful of foul water so that I cough and gag.
Pippa runs for the nets. She hurls one out. It sails overhead and splashes into the water. The nymphs scream in rage. The net has frightened them, but only temporarily. They renew their efforts. This time, Pippa's net lands on four of the nymphs. There's a horrible scream as the net burns their skin. They bubble and blister until they are nothing more than sea foam. The others fall behind, afraid to go farther. Felicity and Pippa lug us from the water onto the sharp shoals.
Miss Moore helps me to my feet. "Are you all right?"
Ann vomits onto the shoals. She is weak but alive.
We've cheated them of their prize. I can't help myself. I shout with glee and satisfaction. "Take our skin, will you? Ha! Take that!"
"Gemma," Miss Moore advises, pulling me back from the water. "Do not taunt them."
Indeed, the nymphs do not take kindly to my celebration. They open their mouths and begin to sing. The lure of it is like a net drawing me toward the water. Oh, that sound, like a promise that there need be no worry or want ever again. I could grow drunk on that tune.
Miss Moore places her fingers in her ears. "Don't listen!"
Felicity wades into the warm water to her ankles, then her knees, drawn by the song. Pippa runs to the edge, screaming her name. "Fee! Fee!"
Ann's begun to sing along. For a moment, I'm distracted by her voice. What am I doing in the water? I step out. Ann stops singing, and the nymphs flood me with their sweet promises again.
I'm vaguely aware of Miss Moore screaming, "Ann! Sing! You've got to sing!"
Ann finds her song again. It pulls me away from the water and the nymphs enough to see what is happening. Felicity's swimming farther out.
"Sing, Ann!" I shout. My hands find the faint throb at her throat. "Sing as if your life depends on it."
Ann's song, thin at first, is no match for the temptation in Felicity's ears. But her voice gains strength. She sings more loudly and more powerfully than I have ever heard her sing, until she is the song itself. She stares at those creatures like a warrior warning of the battle to come. In the water, Felicity stops. Pippa rushes in after her.
'Tee, come back with me." She reaches out her hand and Felicity takes it.
"Come on," Pippa says softly, luring her from the water.
"Come on."
Felicity follows Ann's voice and Pippa's hand until she is back on solid ground.
"Pippa?" Felicity says.
Pippa embraces her, and Felicity holds so tightly I fear she will break Pippa.
The nymphs, realizing they have lost, screech in rage.
"Let's not wait around, shall we?" Miss Moore says. She gathers the rope onto her shoulder. I am so grateful for Miss Moore at this moment I could cry.
"Thank you, Hester," I say.
"It is I who should thank you, Gemma."
"For what?" I ask.