Thirty-Nine

Ava blinked, opened her eyes. She lay on the hallway floor, completely submerged. She wasn’t breathing, but she didn’t feel the urge to gasp for air. Was she dead? She didn’t feel dead. She remembered Cassie’s prophecy: Over water, under water, you will go, Medusa’s daughter. Was staying alive underwater a Gorgon power?

But how about her friends? She looked around and found their equally surprised faces. Fia, Layla, and Arnold lay next to her, their eyes open and darting nervously around. They also weren’t breathing, but they weren’t drowning either. They couldn’t all have this power.

What’s happening? Arnold mouthed.

Ava had no idea. Above them, she could see Anahita and Morgan kicking rapidly, the water swirling around their legs. Fia started to stand up, but Ava yanked her back down. They didn’t seem in danger under the water; if they stayed down, Anahita and Morgan would assume they had drowned.

Play dead, Ava mouthed, then put her finger over her lips.

They nodded, even Fia, whose eyes were wide with terror, and froze into position. Above them, Morgan’s and Anahita’s legs stopped churning. The whirlpool that had sucked them down to the floor swirled slower and slower. After two long minutes, Morgan’s face appeared above them in the water. Ava wanted to blink, but she held still, staring with a glassy, blank look. A few seconds later, Morgan splashed to the surface. Ava guessed what she had seen was convincing, because Morgan and Anahita swam away toward the staircase. They found their footing and started to climb.

Now what? Arnold mouthed.

Fia tapped Ava’s arm and pointed to the surface, anxious to get out.

Wait, Ava mouthed.

Zale was probably talking to Anahita and Morgan, coordinating the story of “the accident” that had befallen their classmates. It was tempting to pop out of the water and freeze him, but Ava couldn’t freeze Anahita and Morgan. Besides, it was better to slip out of the Accademia without anyone realizing they were still alive.

The water vibrated around them. Arnold pointed wildly at the floor. It seemed to be moving beneath them, but it was they who were moving. Ava grabbed Fia’s hand. The water was pulling them faster and faster, until they were being swept violently back down the hall. The retreating water whipped around a bend, then sucked them into Mr. Orion’s office. Ava felt as if she were on the wildest waterslide of her life as she was carried across the floor. Then the torrent of water funneled her out the window, tossing them with a loud splash into the canal.

Ava burst through the surface, pulling Fia up with her. Layla and Arnold popped up nearby, waving their arms.

“Ava!” shouted a voice. “Over here!”

Ava turned in the direction of the voice. Jax was rowing a gondola toward them. He pulled up alongside, crouched down, and hauled Fia, then Ava, into it. Then he rowed the gondola over to Layla and Arnold. While Ava helped them clamber inside, Jax squatted down and pricked his finger with a pin.

“You were almost dead,” he said and touched each of their arms with a drop of his blood.

“Why didn’t we die?” Layla asked.

“Metis flew to the underworld to alert Persephone, who delayed Thanatos, the god of death,” Jax explained. “And Hecate worked her own magic with the tides to force back the water—a moon goddess can do that.”

“But how did Metis know we were in mortal danger?” Ava asked. “She flew off before Mr. Orion blew the conch.”

“She flew off to talk to Ms. Demi,” Jax said. “I was with them both when Mr. Orion burst in—”

“Mr. Orion!” said everyone but Fia.

“Mr. Moros tipped him off that you were about to face your doom. Mr. Orion worried he would further anger the gods by saving you, but he couldn’t let you die either.”

Fia rolled her eyes as if to say, Such a nice guy.

“He’s family,” Ava explained.

“Okay, now I’m totally confused,” Layla said.

Jax shook his head in disbelief. “We’re part giant too?”

Part monster, part goddess, part giant, part mortal—Ava realized they were all these identities. It just depended on who was doing the looking.

“I’ll explain it all on the way to Poveglia,” she said. “But we need to get back there fast before the gods come after us. Arnold, how are your wings?”

Arnold fluttered them, flicking off beads of water.

Ava scanned the banks of the Grand Canal, expecting to see wide-eyed tourists snapping photos of what looked like a dark angel. But no one paid them any attention. The tourists and locals, gondoliers and waiters, must have assumed they were still in their Carnival costumes. Plus, the gods had probably fogged up their eyes, so they wouldn’t notice the river of water that had poured into—then out of—the Accademia.

“I think they’re good to go,” Arnold said.

Fia applauded. Her color was finally returning to normal.

“Back to Poveglia!” Layla said. She no longer sounded afraid, but excited.

Ava nodded. “So Fia can get back her voice.”