I Shall Rewrite the Stars

Chapter 6

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Whoever they are, whatever they are, the women are amazingly swift swimmers. They move seamlessly, gliding through the waves as if they were fish instead of people.

Never allowing my head to dip beneath the water, the women speak to me with hypnotic voices, comforting me during the long hours we spend in the sea.

“It has been so long,” the one on the left says with a laugh. “A thousand years isn’t much for us, but it has still been quite a while.”

“It has, Ligeia. Especially for mortals,” the one on the right replies, then says to me. “How fortunate you are, to be the daughter of the moon and sea.”

“The moon and sea?” I ask, peering over.

The woman on the right is just as beautiful as the one on the left, her skin a touch darker but still as shimmering. Her soft brown eyes remind me of sand, and her blue hair is light as the reflection of the sky atop an oasis pool.

“The mark upon your brow, should be proof enough that you are the daughter of the moon. But surely you know that the sea is the lover of the moon.”

“And our father as well,” Ligeia giggles. “That makes us sisters. right, Leucosia? If only half, that is.”

“No, a daughter of the moon is most definitely a full sister. She is more akin to us than to the mortals from whom she came.”

“Are you not mortal?” I ask.

Leucosia smiles at me. “What about us could have ever confused you—well, our faces are similar to mortals’ I suppose. But our appetites, you see, are quite different.”

“It’s a shame, you know?” Ligeia sighs. “Those boys who fell into the sea with you, look simply tantalizing! They would have made the most delicious storm-swept snack.”

Curious, and growing more conscious of the oddities in my saviors, I twist my head around, trying to see more. How are they swimming so effortlessly? How are they so enchanting? I hadn’t thought to fear them until they spoke of mortals and spirits. But why? How did they cast such a spell on me?

“Is this what you look for?” Ligeia asks, flipping forward to reveal not legs, but a fish tail of shimmering, golden scales tipped with a wide, split fin.

My blood runs cold. “You are sirens?”

Sirens, creatures of myth whom I have only heard of in passing. Their beauty is renowned, almost as much as their alluring voices, which can take hold of a man’s heart with just a single word! For once a sailor hears the sirens song, they lose their senses and leap from their ship into the sea.

None could tell me for certain, but it is widely believed that those men were drowned, their bodies left to fill the bellies of the sirens.

“My brother,” I gasp, searching frantically for him. “Helios and Juba—and Ptolemy! Where are they? What have you done with them?”

“Calm yourself,” Leucosia says, her voice instantly soothing my fears. “We were bidden to rescue them, too. They are carried along behind us, by yet more of our sisters.”

“You…you swear it? They are not hurt?”

“No harm could come to them, for our father cherishes you the most of his children. Don’t you know that, Selene?”

“You know my name?”

“It has always been your name,” Ligeia says. “Past, present, and future—you will always be Selene, precious daughter of the moon and sea.”

“The cursed daughter,” Leucosia says softer. “Ill-fated thanks to the crimes committed by mortal rulers. By that cursed empire blessed by the sun.”

“Empire of the sun?” I ask. “Do you mean Roma?”

Both sirens hiss, the sound entirely inhuman.

“The sun and moon were lovers in the beginning,” Ligeia says. “Long ago, before mortals came into this world. But when they did, a mortal temptress stole the heart of the sun, and so he blessed her with fierce power among the blooming nations.”

I nod. “I know this this story. Thanks to the great wisdom of the spirit of the sun, Roma rose to its grand stature as the largest empire in all the world, and has retained that title ever since.”

“But do you know the full tale? Do you know of the betrayal of the loyal moon, who in her loneliness found comfort in the arms of the sea? Whose only child was struck from the heavens by her jealous former lover, saved by a mortal woman who could not bear children of her own, and-”

“All in due time, Ligeia,” Leucosia interrupts. “If Selene is meant to remember it all, then the full story will reveal itself to her.”

Ligeia pouts. “It has been a thousand years since we last spoke with our youngest sister, yet you would stop me from jarring her memories?”

“All in due time, Ligeia.”

Ligeia huffs, dropping my arm to dip below the waves and resurface a few feet in front of me. Smiling wide, she nods over her shoulder. “Land at last, Selene. We have brought you as far as we can. From here, you must continue on your own.”

“Is it an island?” I ask, looking past her toward a long shore of dark black sand. High palm trees rise toward the sky, beyond which a rocky peak of a mountain soars among a speckling of fluffy, white clouds.

“A temperamental one,” Leucosia warns, pulling me past Ligeia. “It is one of many homes to the spirit of fire. Be swift in leaving this place, Selene. Fire, as you might find, will not be as kind as our father.”

“I…I will keep that in mind.”

With a hum, Leucosia sweeps in front of me, her hands slipping down to grasp mine. Pulling me forward, she pauses at the same instant my foot brushes something slimy.

“Be selfish in this life,” Leucosia bids, pressing her forehead to mine. “Do not suffer the same fate twice, Selene. This time, we—all of us, beg you to choose to live.”

Before I can ask what she means, Leucosia releases me. Falling back, she vanishes beneath the water, swimming too fast to follow. Not a moment later, splashing and gasps rise from behind me. I look back, surprised to see Helios flailing beside Juba, who carries Ptolemy on his back.

“What is this?” Helios cries, falling under only to bob back up. “Selene! Selene, help!”

“You should be able to touch the ground, you know,” Juba groans, wading closer. “Who’d have thought a Son of Kemet would be so childish?”

“What did you say?” Helios demands, jerking upright. Heaving his knees high as he stomps after Juba. “Get back here and say that to my face, Swine!”

“What were those things?” Ptolemy asks, when Juba stops at my side. “They were monsters.”

“They were sirens,” Juba corrects, helping her down, though he doesn’t release her hands. “They must have come to help Selene at the beck of the moon spirit.”

“Or it could have been the spirit of the sea,” Helios huffs. “I was blessed by him, after all.”

Juba rolls his eyes. “A blessing which I’m sure he is deeply regretful.”

Whilst Helios sets to ranting, together we wade toward the shore. I delight at the feel of the sand beneath my feet, though the cool breeze makes me shiver. Soaked to the bone, I long for a warm fire or the heat of the desert sun. Tipping my face toward the sun, I go stiff at Ptolemy’s gasp.

“Selene, what happened to your hair?” she cries, her hands pressed over her lips when I look toward her.

Two steps behind, Helios stills, his eyes widening as they take me in. I reach up, confused when my fingers do not find the long locks I expect, but short strands of raggedly cut hair, which end just below my shoulders.

I suck in a gasp, my eyes welling with tears before I can stop them.

Stepping closer, Juba frowns. “It is just hair. It will regrow.”

I swallow hard, nodding till I can find my voice. “I know.”

Frowning, Juba watches me. From my visions of him, I can tell that he is waiting. That he does not understand me, and does not know how to express it.

“My mother’s hair was always so long,” I explain. “I grew my own, as a means to feel closer to her. The colors would never be the same, but the length could be, so I-…and I know it’s childish, but now more than ever, to lose that connection…”

Juba nods, setting his hand upon my shoulder. “I see. It’s a hard loss then. But as I said, the hair will grow back. There is no need to mourn it too deeply.”

“Keep your hand off of her,” Helios snaps, stepping between us to push Juba back. “Don’t go casually touching my sisters. I’ve already warned you about this.”

“Helios,” I warn, surprised when he doesn’t flinch.

“Respect their status as Daughters of Kemet—and if you can’t respect that, then respect their right to decide who they want touching them. Far as I’ve heard, neither has given you such permission.”

From my peripheral, I see Juba’s lips twitch up. “It’s about time something wise came from your mouth,” he says, striding forward with his head high. “Forgive me, Ptolemy, for saving you from drowning. And Selene, do forgive me for being considerate of you. I shall exercise discretion next time, and merely wish you the best.”

“What kind of apology is that?” Helios balks.

“One you seem to wish to hear, oh mighty Son of Kemet,” Juba calls over his shoulder. “In truth, I do not mean a word of it! But I’ve a headache, and your voice has everything to do with it.”

“Why you-”

“Enough, Heli,” I sigh. “I understand that you are upset, and I appreciate your concern for Ptolemy and I, but we’ve been through enough for one day. Choose peace.”

“I choose loyalty to our status and royal rights.”

“Both of which no longer exist,” Ptolemy groans, passing us with her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Brown hair hanging in curls past her knees, she shifts awkwardly as her gown clings to her slim body “I’m freezing. We must find new clothes—dry clothes.”

“She is not wrong about the clothes at least,” I say, turning to follow. “Though this doesn’t seem the kind of island where average people live, let alone merchants with ready-made wears.”

“I’ll shave her head if she keeps insulting our bloodline and kingdom,” Helios huffs, muttering under his breath as we walk.

The further we go, the harsher the ground becomes. The sand was warm at first, but grows hotter as we move toward the mountain. Sharp rocks poke at our feet, soon becoming unbearable for Ptolemy, who lost her sandals in the sea.

Juba offers to carry her, but Helios glares him doon, stooping to offer his own back instead. Once Ptolemy is settled, Helios take the lead, walking several feet ahead of Juba and I.

“Oh!” I gasp, stumbling over a wide rock.

“Are you alright?” Juba asks, helping me to stand.

“I’m fine,” I lie, embarrassed at my slow pace. “Thank you.”

Juba smiles. “You are not a good liar, Selene. Tell me, is that why we became friends in your visions?”

Taking his arm, I shake my head. “It helped in some ways, though it seemed to annoy you more than anything.”

“Oh?”

“I took full responsibility for every mistake I made at Octavia’s villa, which in turn cost me a great deal of humiliation and pain. In the future I saw, you were often furious with me for refusing to spare myself through use of lies.”

“I see. If ever you are captured, and find yourself living the visions you foresaw, tell me that you will lie through your teeth. That you will heed the lesson of those visions, and give me no cause to be upset with you.”

I shake my head. “Daughters of Kemet have no need to lie. It is our honor to own all that we say and all that we do. To resort to petty lies as a means to survive, would be the same as casting away a piece of my soul.”

“Even if it might get you killed?”

“I would rather die than lose who I am.”

Juba goes to say more when a female voice shrieks from up ahead. Sharing a look, we move faster.

“Was that Ptolemy?” I ask, spotting her still aloft on Helios’ back.

“No,” Juba says, pointing to a lone figure picking herself up to sit, just feet ahead of my siblings.

Dressed in a long-sleeved tunic of brilliant pink, slit open on both sides and swaying to her knees, the woman’s legs are hidden beneath baggy golden pants—shalwar, I believe they are called. She wears a fashion unlike anything seen upon the people of Kemet, but that is very much the norm for Indriran emissaries.

Brushing a brown hand over her thick, black hair, the woman’s hazel eyes glare up at us. “What is this?” she demands. “I was told that this island should be uninhabited.”

“We’re not inhabitants,” Helios says, hefting Ptolemy a bit higher, before he extends a hand to the stranger. “We’ve just washed up from…from a shipwreck. Our boat was lost in the storm.”

The woman’s eyes narrow. “Storm? They say a storm blew through so far to the west, its thunder barely reached here. How could you lot have been washed ashore, safely, from such a distance?”

“Luck,” Ptolemy huffs. “What else?”

Pushing herself to her feet, the woman tilts her head, eyeing us slowly from one to the next. When she lands on me, her lips twitch into a deep frown.

“Who are you?” she asks. “You are not Indriran, and your story of a shipwreck does not make sense.”

“We’re telling the truth,” Helios tries, flinching back a step when the woman pulls a long, curved dagger from a hidden pocket at her hip.

“Liar.”

“We’re not-”

“By the name of Maharaja Ashoka Indrira, I demand that you justify your appearance in our sacred empire!”

“Or what?” Ptolemy scoffs.

The woman’s lips widen. “Or else you shall fall by my hand.”

***