The Siren Song
Anne Ursu
THE SIREN SONG
Also by Anne Ursu
The Shadow Thieves
Atheneum Books for Young Readers
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
1230 Avenue of the Americas
New York, New York 10020
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Ursu, Anne.
The siren song / Anne Ursu.—1st ed.
p. cm.—(The Cronus chronicles; bk. two)
Summary: Thirteen-year-old Charlotte must rescue humankind again when the evil Philonecron captures her cousin Zee, and Poseidon himself sends a sea monster to eat the cruise ship on which Charlotte’s parents are trapped.
ISBN-13: 978-1-4391-5346-8
ISBN-10: 1-4391-5346-9
[1. Adventure and adventurers—Fiction. 2. Mythology, Greek—Fiction. 3. Poseidon (Greek deity)—Fiction. 4. Animals, Mythical—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.U692Sir 2006
[Fic]—dc22 2006015841
Visit us on the World Wide Web:
http://www.SimonSays.com
For Gretchen Laskas and Laura Ruby
Proud Redheads
Contents
PART ONE: FISH
1: No Way to Treat a Hero
2: Something Wrong, Something Right
3: Charlotte Junior, Fish at Large
4: The Friendly Skies
5: The Perils of Being a Fish
6: Totally Lulu
PART TWO: FISHY
7: No Way to Treat a Hero II
8: The Yacht
9: Hamsters “R” Us
10: A Friendly Chat with Poseidon, the Second Most Powerful God in the Whole Universe
11: Mirror, Mirror
12: Special Delivery
PART THREE: FISHIER
13: Come Aboard
14: Stormy Weather
15: Secret Agent Girl
16: My Dinner with Philonecron
17: A Minor Course Correction
18: Fish Boy Explains It All
PART FOUR: FISHIEST
19: Strait and Narrows
20: Lifestyles of the Rich and Infamous
21: The Earth Shaker
22: Pucker Up
23: Sir Laurence Gaumm
24: Party at Poseidon’s
25: Surprises
26: Ketos vs. Squid
27: Home
EPILOGUE
Under the Sea
BESTIARY
THE SIREN SONG
PART ONE
FISH
CHAPTER 1
No Way to Treat a Hero
ONCE, NOT SO LONG AGO, INSIDE AN ORDINARY MIDDLE school in an ordinary city in an ordinary state in the middle of an ordinary country, a small redheaded eighth grader was doing something very ordinary indeed. Charlotte Mielswetzski (Say it with me: Meals-wet-ski. Got it? If not, say it again: Meals. Wet. Ski.) was in the school office calling her mother. And lest you think she was calling her mother for some interesting reason, let me assure you she most certainly was not. For Charlotte could be found in that same office calling her mother every day after school. In fact, five months before, her mother had contacted the Hartnett Middle School principal and asked him to make special arrangements to allow Charlotte to use the office phone, because Charlotte would be needing to call her mother every day and inform her when she was on her way home. You might think that after five months this would have become less embarrassing, but, as Charlotte would be happy to assure you, it had not.
You see, Charlotte Mielswetzski was grounded. Very grounded. She had to call her parents right after school every day and then walk straight home after she called. If her mother was at the office, Charlotte had to call when she got home as well. She was required to use the school and home phones, too, so Mrs. Mielswetzski would know she was calling from the place she was supposed to be. No cell phones.
And Charlotte actually had a cell phone now. For the last two years she had been begging her parents for one, but Mrs. Mielswetzski said it was ridiculous that kids needed cell phones and Mr. Mielswetzski said something about it just getting confiscated anyway (he was a history teacher at the high school and knew whereof he spoke). Charlotte suspected she was the only person in the entire world who didn’t have a phone. But, as she soon learned, not having a cell phone is much better than being given a cell phone so your parents can keep track of you at all times. She needed permission to use it for any other reason, and they said they would know if she misused it because they would check the bills every month.
It was almost as if her parents didn’t trust her.
The only things Charlotte was allowed to do were school-sanctioned activities, like gymnastics. She had been quite shocked that her mother had let her try out for the team, but, frankly, her mother had seemed even more shocked that Charlotte had wanted to try out at all and perhaps was not thinking clearly. Charlotte was fairly sure that if she’d been doing gymnastics all her life, her mother would have grounded her from that, too—but since Mrs. Mielswetzski had been trying to get her to do extracurricular activities for years and Charlotte had never had the slightest inclination to do so before, it suddenly must have seemed like a great idea. It’s all in the timing.
“Hello, Charlotte,” said Mrs. Mielswetzski when she picked up the phone. Her mother used to call her things like “honey,” but not anymore. “How was practice?”
“Fine,” Charlotte said. It had actually been more than fine. Charlotte had landed a cartwheel on the balance beam for the first time ever, after having tried for weeks. She was so excited she had almost fallen off, which would have made the whole thing a lot less cool-looking. But she didn’t fall, and the whole team cheered. And just then, Charlotte Mielswetzski felt like she could probably do a cartwheel anywhere—on a handrail, on a ribbon, on the whisker of her cat—and land it with grace and precision.
But she wasn’t going to tell her mother any of that. The last thing she wanted to do was give her the satisfaction of thinking that Charlotte had had even a moment of happiness.
“It’s a little late,” said Mrs. Mielswetzski.
Charlotte winced. “Practice went long. You can call Coach Seltzer!” (If her tone wasn’t that kind, you must forgive her; she had been a little irritable the last few months.)
With a sigh, her mother said, “Okay, Charlotte. Just come straight home. Do you want me to pick you up?”
“No!” said Charlotte quickly. The Mielswetzskis lived just six blocks from the campus of Hartnett Middle School, and when it was warm enough, Charlotte walked to and from school every day. But during the winter she’d had to get a ride from her mother, and it was often frostier inside the car than outside. So Charlotte was always quite eager to find other options. “Maddy stayed after to study. I can get a ride with Mrs. Ruby.” Maddy, Charlotte’s best friend, had already called her mother to come get them. Maddy had fallen prey to a lengthy and mysterious illness last October, and since then her mom had been all too happy to do just about anything for her. You have to work that sort of situation to your advantage.
Her mother paused. “All right, Charlotte,” she said finally. “I’ll be sure to call Mrs. Ruby and thank her later tonight.”
Charlotte’s cheeks flushed and she hung up without saying good-bye. Before she’d called her mother, she’d still felt a small glow from her accomplishment
today—just a spark, really, but after the way the last few months had gone, a spark was good enough. But now that spark was gone. All gone.
Charlotte hadn’t been lying. Mrs. Ruby was going to pick them up. Lately Maddy had been staying after school and working in the library while Charlotte was at gymnastics. Maddy was always happy to have an excuse to do homework (unlike Charlotte, who preferred excuses not to do homework), but really she did it just to get some time with Charlotte, since it was the only chance they had to see each other.
Maddy watched Charlotte as she glared at the office phone. “Everything okay?” she asked.
“No,” replied Charlotte.
Maddy groaned sympathetically. “We should go watch for Mom.”
Charlotte nodded, and Maddy led her out of the office door. The school receptionist looked up and smiled at the girls. “Bye, Charlotte,” she said. “See you tomorrow!”
Charlotte grunted.
“So,” Maddy said when they reached the school vestibule, “your mom hasn’t lightened up at all, I see.”
“Nope,” said Charlotte.
“It just seems kind of extreme,” Maddy said for the hundredth time. “So you failed a math test. It happens.”
Charlotte cast a look at her friend. Maddy didn’t know the truth about why her parents were so mad at her; Charlotte would have loved to have told her the whole story, but then Maddy would think Charlotte was crazy and would lock her in a nuthouse, and that would put a serious damper on their friendship.
The only person who knew the truth was Charlotte’s cousin Zee, but he didn’t want to be locked up any more than she did. Oh, and her old English teacher Mr. Metos knew, of course. After everything had happened, Charlotte had hoped he would help her with her parents, but talking to people wasn’t really Mr. Metos’s strong suit.
The thing is, a few months before, in order to save all the sick kids, Charlotte and Zee had had to sneak down to the Underworld—the Underworld as in the-Greek-mythology Underworld, which is actually real. In fact, as Charlotte learned last fall, much to her surprise, all of Greek myths are real—Zeus, Poseidon, Hades, the whole bit. It’s just that nobody knows it. Hades is the god of the Underworld, and a minor god named Philonecron tried to overthrow him, and to make an army he’d stolen and enchanted kids’ shadows. That’s why Maddy was sick—her shadow was taken, along with the shadows of pretty much every kid in the city, not to mention in London, where Zee had lived.
So, sometimes really bad things happen and, for reasons that are rather complicated, you’re the only one who can stop them. And sometimes, in order to do so, you have to sneak out of the house late at night to get to the Underworld. And on those occasions, you, because you are a conscientious person, leave your parents a note explaining that you know what’s making everyone sick and you have to go save the world. Helpfully, you also tell them you love them and not to worry.
The problem is, your parents don’t really listen to this last part, and when you finally get back the next morning (extremely weird, because it felt like forever down there, but it turned out to be only one night in the Upperworld)—after Philonecron tried to throw you in the Styx, a few monsters tried to eat you, you met up with the Lord of the Underworld, and a whole shadow army tried to bring his palace down on your head—well, you find out that they have, in fact, worried. A lot.
After they call the police to tell them you have returned home safely, and then they hug you a lot and cry for a while, well—after that, they want to know where you’ve been. (And, for that matter, why you are covered in weird-looking slime, purple cobwebs, and Harpy poo, and why your cat’s leg is broken.) And when you don’t tell them, they tend to get pretty upset. And, after a few days, when you still haven’t told them, they stick you in therapy. They’re going to give you speeches about how disappointed they are in you and how family is all about trust and how you worried them to death and you don’t have the decency to explain where you were and they have to assume the worst—which is that you can’t be trusted. And then they ground you. A lot.
Charlotte Mielswetzski had once thought that she could talk her way out of any situation. This was before she came back from the Underworld. She would have liked to come up with something, something to make her parents feel better and to stop her from being grounded until she was thirty-five, but for once in her life, when she opened her mouth, nothing came out.
The thing that gets Charlotte is if she’d never left a note in the first place—which she did out of concern and basic human decency, mind you—and had just sneaked out of the house and come back in the morning, she could have told her parents that she’d gone to, like, a party or something (a very muddy, smelly, sooty, gross party), and then her parents would have freaked out and grounded her, but probably for only a month. Or maybe two. And she wouldn’t have had to go to therapy.
As for Maddy, Charlotte had just flat-out lied. She was grounded, she told her friend, because she failed the math midterm and was in danger of failing the class. The problem was, Maddy was Charlotte’s best friend, and Charlotte had to lie to her about the biggest thing that had ever happened to her. She had to lie to her about the whole world, basically, and what was the point of having a best friend if you couldn’t tell her everything? And as they stood in the school lobby watching for Mrs. Ruby, Charlotte thought about what it might be like to tell Maddy the truth, once and for all. She could feel the words form in her mouth—“Maddy, I have to tell you something”—but she couldn’t say them. There was no way she could say them. So Charlotte just sighed and shook her head. She’d been sighing a lot lately and was probably going to need oxygen at some point.
“How’s Zee?” Maddy asked casually.
“Fine,” Charlotte replied, just as casually.
Maddy, like every other girl in school, had a crush on Zee. Zee had come over from England last September to live with the Mielswetzskis; his parents sent him over when all the kids in London started getting sick. But a month ago Zee’s parents had finally moved to the United States too, and Zee had gone to live with them in a house a mile away from Charlotte’s. When Zee had first come over, with his perfect British manners and instant popularity and freakish girl-magnet-ness, Charlotte had wanted him far away. But they’d gone to hell and back together, or at least to Hades, and now he was the only one who knew the things about the world that she did, the only person Charlotte wasn’t lying to on a daily basis.
But that didn’t mean she wanted Maddy to date him.
“Was practice okay?” Maddy asked, in a come-back-to-the-light-Charlotte kind of voice. “Break anything?”
Charlotte thought again of her cartwheel, of the moment when she soared over the beam, when her legs began to come back to Earth on a perfect line, when she knew she was finally going to land it. Then she thought of her mom’s voice saying, I’ll be sure to call Mrs. Ruby and thank her.
“Okay,” Charlotte shrugged. She felt sorry for Maddy. It must be hard to have a friend who spoke exclusively in one-word sentences.
“Oh!” Maddy exclaimed. “Listen! Are you guys doing anything for spring break this year?”
Charlotte grunted. “What do you think?” Spring break was less than two weeks away, and it was going to be the same this year as it was every year. Everyone in Charlotte’s school went off to some exotic locale every year and came back all happy and tan, while she stayed home and only got paler, which made her freckles even more pronounced.
“Because I was thinking, maybe I could ask Mom if you could come to Florida with us this year.”
“What?” Charlotte turned. “Really?”
“Sure! We’ve got lots of room in the house, and Brian isn’t coming. We have his plane ticket—maybe we could transfer it or something.” Brian was Maddy’s older brother. Much older. He was in his first year of college and apparently had better things to do than go to Fort Myers with his family. While Charlotte had nothing better at all to do. But…
“They’ll never let me,” Charlot
te moaned. “Remember? I can’t be trusted?”
Maddy rolled her eyes. “Maybe they will! I mean, hasn’t this gone on long enough? You’ve been so good, too! Look, I’ll have my mom call your mom. She can make it sound—I dunno, educational or something.”
Charlotte closed her eyes and saw sandy beaches and sunshine and palm trees and…
Can redheads tan? Charlotte wanted very much to find out.
So it happened that Charlotte arrived at her house in a good mood, the first good mood she’d been in since she had returned from the world of the Dead and gotten Super-Mega-Grounded.
When she walked in the door, though, she found her parents sitting at the kitchen table waiting for her, and her good mood quickly dissipated. Charlotte had lived with her parents long enough to know that whatever this was, it could not be good.
With a loud squawk, her cat Mew came tearing toward her, and Charlotte quickly bent down to scratch her between the ears. Charlotte had a sort of joint custody of Mew with Zee, because when Zee moved in with his parents, Mew got upset and sulked around the house all the time. But now they switched off weeks and Mew was much happier. Charlotte’s parents had suggested the arrangement; they were chock-full of good ideas about taking people’s cats away from them.
“Welcome home, Charlotte,” Mrs. Mielswetzski said.
“Hi, honey,” Mr. Mielswetzski said. He, at least, still loved her.
