ELEMENTS: Acquiesce by Kathryn Andrews (snow like ashes series .TXT) 📕

Cordelia shuddered, then Arna revealed a silver dagger, decorated with wings and a crown.

“Take it,” said Arna. “It belonged to your mother, she’d want you to have it.”

Cordelia picked up the dagger and noticed the letter c engraved on its handle.

“What does the c stand for?” asked Cordelia.

“Carmen,” said Arna. “Your mother was called Carmen.”

“She’s dead because of you,” said Cordelia. “You were just as jealous as Zamira. You’re all as bad as each other.”

“But now you’re one of us,” said Arna. “Let me help you.”

“I’m not a Siren, my mother never wanted to be one either, it’s a curse.”

Cordelia took the dagger and dived head first into the sea.

TWENTY

Adjustment

Standing in front of the mirror in her chamber, Cordelia used the dagger to carve out the feathers. Every time a new one grew she cut it out. She was a mermaid, not a Siren. The pain was unbearable but the thought of being ostracised was worse. Two weeks had passed since Pooka was in town and that ordeal had long been forgotten, thanks to Marilla. Of course, the story was splashed across the front page of every newspaper from Kilfearagh to Dublin and Marilla had waited for those pages to be burned on every fireplace in Ireland before she worked her magic. Cordelia knew it was technically mind power rather than magic but she had been through such a horrid time being shunned by nearly everyone who knew her that what Marilla had achieved was indeed magical. It seemed the entire school had forgotten they’d ever had horses but she couldn’t expect Marilla to keep bailing her out. The town folk were still none the wiser about what had happened that day. They assumed the storm had washed the horses back out to sea and the phrase ‘white horses’ spread amongst the town in reference to white-capped waves which caused orders for Guinness to soar in the tavern.

Cordelia hadn’t seen Breck or Flynn since she’d spoken with Arna. She’d kept herself hidden away incase she was overcome with a sudden desire to eat them. How could she know what to expect? She couldn’t speak to her friends about it and she wasn’t going to confide in the Siren responsible for her mother’s death. The only other being who really knew what was going on was Nixie.

“I’m worried about you,” said Nixie as crimson blood trickled down Cordelia’s back in the candlelight.

“I’m fine,” said Cordelia.

Nixie raised her eyebrows. “I dread to think what you’d do if you weren’t fine.”

“There’s no need to worry,” said Cordelia, “everything’s under control.” She wiped the dagger with a towel and lay face down on the bed, reaching behind her back to place strands of dillisk on her wounds.

“You’ve lost weight,” said Nixie. “At this rate you’ll be too weak to enter the diving competition, never mind win it. How do you expect your powers to work with gaping holes like that in your back?”

“What do you expect me to do?” asked Cordelia. “I can hardly dive with feathers sprouting from my shoulder blades, can I?”

“How can you dive like this?” asked Nixie. “How will you explain these wounds?”

“I’ll cover myself. It’s easier to mask a cut than a pair of wings.”

“It’s a little more than a cut,” said Nixie.

That night, Cordelia was struck with fever. Everything ached, her cheeks flushed red and beads of sweat erupted all over her body. She lay soaking wet in her bed, unable to move. She wanted God to end her pain. If he had taken her life then and there, it wouldn’t have been too soon. She was tired. She’d had enough. Cordelia patiently waited for God to take her. She’d sooner die and gain angel wings than live a life like this. Nixie paced back and forth, wondering what to do. She placed wet towels on Cordelia’s forehead to try and reduce the fever but it didn’t seem to make a difference. Nixie rushed to Amathia’s medical chamber and frantically searched through the bottles until she found a label that read, ‘ointment for infected wounds’. She hurried back to Cordelia and doused her wounds with the remedy. Cordelia flinched as the liquid seeped into her flesh.

“Sorry,” said Nixie. “I know it hurts but you’ll thank me later.”

Once she had bathed and dressed Cordelia’s wounds, Nixie lifted Cordelia off the bed and there she remained, suspended in mid air until the bed sheets were changed. Nixie gently lowered Cordelia onto the bed, raising her head just enough to give her some water, and there she stayed, by Cordelia’s side, keeping vigil until morning.

A sudden knock at the door startled Nixie.

“Cordelia, are you in there?” called Lana.

There was no response.

“Try the handle,” said Nerissa.

Lana rattled the handle but the door was locked.

“Keep the noise down,” said Nixie, poking her head through the door.

Lana and Nerissa jumped.

“What are you doing?” asked Lana. “Where’s Cordelia?”

“She’s sleeping,” said Nixie.

“Then wake her,” said Masika, “she’ll be late for class.”

“Cordelia won’t be going to class today,” said Nixie, “she’s sick.”

“Sick?” said Lana. “What’s wrong with her?”

“She needs to rest,” said Nixie.

“Let us see her,” said Nerissa, “we might be able to help.”

“Come back at visiting time,” said Nixie and her head disappeared through the door.

“Visiting time?” said Lana. “Nixie, open this door or I’ll fetch my father.”

Nixie’s shoulder’s sank and she exhaled before reluctantly opening the door. The three friends quietly walked into Cordelia’s chamber where she lay, sleeping peacefully.

“What’s wrong with her?” asked Nerissa.

“Fever,” said Nixie, discreetly tucking the dagger under the bedcovers.

Lana picked up the medicine bottle and read aloud, “Ointment for infected wounds. What aren’t you telling us?”

Nixie shrugged. Frustrated, Lana turned to Masika.

“It’s no good asking me,” said Masika. “I can’t read the minds of ghosts, or the sleeping unfortunately.”

Lana moved closer to Cordelia and reached out a hand.

“Let her sleep,” said Nerissa, placing a hand on Lana’s arm. “We’ll check on her later.”

“The diving contest is two weeks