Grace
I can’t believe I’m sitting at a table in a sushi restaurant with my two sisters. My sisters! I don’t think I’ve been this happy since we adopted Thane—who is hopefully busy working on his own bid for happiness—and this is happy on a whole different their-blood-is-my-blood level.
Gretchen and Greer don’t seem to share my excitement.
To my left, Gretchen’s arms are crossed and leaning on the table, a stormy look on her face. There’s a line between her eyebrows where she’s squeezed them together. Her eyes are a darker shade of gray than I’ve ever seen in my mirror. I wonder if that’s what I look like when I’m angry.
Or am I more like Greer, sitting stiff spined in her chair, exuding haughty annoyance and looking like she might fracture into a million pieces at any second?
Either way, the tension at the table is practically killing me. I’m not just going to let things go and pretend like everything is okay, though, because big things are going on and we need to talk about them. Sitting up straight in my chair, I look at Gretchen.
“I know who Sthenno is.”
Immediately her demeanor changes. “Who?”
“My counselor, Ms. West,” I say, so proud to have figured it out. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to her about it because, well, she disappeared.”
“Not like you?” Gretchen clarifies. “Not autoporting?”
“No, she just walked out of the building—”
“I’m sorry,” Greer interrupts. “But, Sthenno? As in the immortal Gorgon Sthenno?”
“The same,” I say with a grin. “After you and I fought the serpent-lady at the wharf—”
“Sea dracaena,” Gretchen mutters.
“Right.” I flash a scowl at her. As if that’s helping right now. “Anyway, after you left, then Gretchen’s mentor, Ursula, visited me. Only she’s not just Ursula, she’s really the other immortal Gorgon, Euryale.”
“An immortal Gorgon visited you on the wharf?”
“Yes.” Am I being unclear? I don’t think so. “She autoported to me, thinking I was Gretchen, because she’s been imprisoned somewhere and I guess her autoporting wires got crossed—”
“Grace,” Gretchen interrupts with a snarl. “Can we get back to the part where you discovered your counselor is Sthenno?”
“Oh, right.” I guess it’s better to stay on track. “Anyway, she got away before I could ask her, and I thought maybe, if you want, we could go talk to her together. I could make an appointment for after school or something.”
Gretchen nods and I sigh with relief. We’ve found Ursula’s sister and now maybe we can figure what’s going on and why things are changing. That’s one thing checked off the list of unanswered questions today.
“Great,” Greer says, not sounding thrilled. “Can we get back to my problem here?”
Gretchen scowls. “Of course,” she sneers. “Because this is all about you.”
“Now, Gretchen,” I say, wanting to diffuse the sudden tension.
“No,” Greer says before I can finish. “That’s fair.”
Gretchen seems stunned that Greer would make that kind of concession. I guess I’m actually a little surprised too. They look at each other—okay, glare—and I feel caught in the middle.
Thankfully, the waitress arrives, breaking the unsisterlike tension.
“You girls ready to order?” she drawls, looking from Greer to me to Gretchen. “Well, aren’t you three adorable? Triplets, huh?”
I smile. “Yes, we—”
“I’ll have salmon nigiri and a bowl of miso soup,” Greer says, cutting off my answer.
“The tempura platter,” Gretchen says. “With extra shrimp.”
The waitress quickly scribbles down their orders and then looks at me.
“Can I just get an avocado roll?” I ask. When the waitress nods and adds it to the order, I say, “Thank you.”
The waitress grabs our menus and leaves, probably eager to escape the tension-filled table. If only I could go with her. No. I’m not going to run away. I’m going to face this and find a way to make them see reason.
“We’re here to talk,” Gretchen says. “Let’s talk. Ask your questions.”
Her gaze doesn’t waver from Greer, who’s been practicing the silent treatment since we left the loft. I don’t have to know her like a sister to literally feel the anger pouring off her in frosty waves.
While they have a little stare-down, I drum my fingers on the underside of my chair, feeling powerless. With two such strong personalities, how can I ever make them see how lucky we are to have found each other? We need to find an element of common ground, beyond our shared DNA and monster-hunting destiny, something to show my sisters that we aren’t as different as we seem.
Looking around the table, though, I can’t help but worry that maybe we are. One is a gruff, tough commando chick, who dresses all in black and drab and prefers to fight alone. Another is a pretty, preppy, popular girl, who wears the finest fashions and prefers to keep her social calendar intact.
And then there’s me. What type am I exactly? The eco-conscious computer geek who’d rather be comfortable than fashionable and who is still learning how to stand up for herself. On the surface we don’t have much to bond about.
“Listen,” I begin, “I really think we should—”
“Tell me about the monsters,” Greer says. “Where do they come from?”
“Another realm,” Gretchen replies. “Sealed off from ours.”
Greer asks, “Then how do they get here?”
“Well, there’s this—”
“The seal is cracked,” Gretchen explains.
Speaking of the seal . . . “You know, I read in that Medusa book that we’re supposed to—”
“What do they do here?” Greer continues, as if I hadn’t spoken.
Gretchen shrugs. “Feed on humans. Drain their life force and then either kill or control them.”
“Kill or—” I stutter. Did Gretchen just say control humans? “You never said anything about—”
“But there are others, right?” Greer asks, interrupting me again. “Ones that don’t . . . feed on humans.”
I’m thrilled that they’re talking, but do they really have to keep cutting me off? Letting me finish a sentence would be nice. Now is not the time for that battle, though, so I bite my tongue and listen.
“I don’t know,” Gretchen says with a sigh.
“Really?” I gape.
“Maybe that’s one of the things that’s changing.” She rubs her neck. “There might be beasties coming through that aren’t pure evil.”
That’s news to me. From the start, Gretchen has been very clear. Monsters are bad, end of discussion. Something must have made her question the truth of that conviction.
“Why are we the only ones who see them?”
“It’s our legacy as descendants of Medusa. We are the huntresses who keep the monsters in their realm and out of ours.”
Greer leans forward across the table. “No, you’re a huntress,” she says, looking only at Gretchen. “Grace and I are obviously sweet, normal girls.”
I want to take offense, but I’m thrilled that she’s found something to connect us. “But we took down that serpent crea—” I glance at Gretchen. “That sea dracaena the other night. We are huntresses.”
Greer glares at me.
Gretchen gives me a tight smile. “You’re working on it.”
“When we fought that sea whatever,” Greer says, gesturing at me, “it disappeared. One moment it was there, the next it was gone. What happened?”
“I bit it,” I explain, jumping at the chance to explain something. Glancing quickly around to make sure no one is watching, I focus on my teeth and slide my fangs down into view. I’ve been practicing. “We have fangs,” I whisper. “They inject a sweet venom that sends the monsters back to their realm.”
Greer looks like I said we cut off their heads and fry them up for breakfast. Her lips move, and I know she’s licking her tongue along her front teeth to make sure she didn’t suddenly sprout fangs.
“They’re instinctive,” I explain. “They’ll come out when you need them.”
“The venom is a one-way ticket back to their realm,” Gretchen says. “Some kind of supernatural express train.”
“That,” Greer says with a sneer, “is one of the most disgusting things I have ever heard.”
“It’s not that bad,” I say, though who am I to say? I’ve only bitten one beastie. I’d been so full of fear and adrenaline, it could have tasted like burned garbage and I wouldn’t have noticed.
Gretchen adds, “You learn to deal.”
From the look on Greer’s face, she doesn’t want to learn to deal. She wants to wake up from this terrible nightmare and pretend none of this is true. Totally understandable. It’s not as if this news is easy to digest.
“How many are there?” she asks.
“What? Monsters?” Gretchen shrugs again. “Who knows? Hundreds. Thousands. Hundreds of thousands. Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Hundreds of thousands?” Greer echoes. “Here in the city?”
“Oh no,” I hurry to say. Gretchen may be keen on scaring Greer away, but I’d like to keep her from bolting. “Not all at once. They used to get out only one at a time.” I glance at Gretchen. “But that’s changing too.”
“Everything is changing,” Gretchen says. “None of the old rules seem to apply anymore.”
“Why?” Greer asks.
“Because we’re reunited,” I say. “I moved to the city and now things are weird.”
Gretchen may not have said it out loud, but I’m sure she thinks that too. And after what Ursula told me, I must be right.
“But some of them live here?” Greer asks. “In this . . . realm. Right?”
“No,” Gretchen replies. “They can only be here temporarily.”
“But what about Harold?”
“Who’s Harold?” I ask.
“The janitor at my school,” Greer explains. “He used to be normal, or at least I used to see him as normal. Today, when I looked, he was a giant spider. And I think he always has been, and I just couldn’t see it before.”
“That makes no sense,” Gretchen says. “Haven’t you always been able to see monsters?”
Greer’s face shutters, like she’s blocking something out. “I— Just once,” she says, shaking her head. “When I was a child. But then not again until you two knocked on my door. Now it’s like nonstop monstervision.”
“That’s weird,” I say. I get the feeling she’s not telling us something. “Maybe some of them have been released. If they can get out permanently as a reward for bringing us in, then maybe they can get granted release for other things too.”
Gretchen shakes her head. “I just can’t believe I haven’t seen any of those long-term visitors before this week.”
“Maybe they stayed away from you,” I suggest, giving her a sympathetic smile. “You do have a killer reputation for monster hunting.”
The look on Gretchen’s face makes it clear she thinks the idea is ridiculous. Hey, it could happen.
“Why doesn’t anyone else see them?” Greer asks.
“We’re special that way,” Gretchen retorts.
“Monsters create a false appearance, an illusion when they’re in this realm,” I explain, throwing Gretchen a you’re-not-helping look. “Ordinary humans see them as human.”
Greer scowls. “And we’re not human?”
Right then the waitress returns with a tray of food. As she sets down plates and bowls, we sit there in silence. When we’ve assured her that everything looks great, she leaves and I let out a huge breath. I’m as eager to hear this answer as Greer is, I think.
“We are human,” Gretchen explains, stabbing a piece of broccoli tempura with her fork. “We’re just not ordinary.”
“We are descendants of Medusa and her human husband,” I add, repeating the information from the book that led me to finding Greer. “They had three half-human daughters. They in turn had three daughters, and so on until now.”
“So, there are more of us?” Greer asks.
I can sense her eagerness, can practically see her hope that maybe she doesn’t have to feel so responsible for this if there are others to take up the fight. I’m almost sad to burst her bubble. Almost.
“No,” I say. “There are only three in every generation.” I look at Gretchen, then back at Greer. “There’s only us.”
I don’t have an answer to the unspoken questions, though. Not yet. What about our mother? What about our aunts? Grandmothers and great-aunts? Cousins? Are they alive? If so, where are they and what are they doing?
We all fall silent in our own thoughts. Gretchen shoves a full forkload of tempura vegetables into her mouth. She doesn’t seem happy or excited or even hopeful about our sisterly reunion. I can’t help but be all three. This is what is supposed to happen.
As I stir my wasabi into a dish of soy sauce, I watch Greer take an elegant sip of soup. Her fingers hold the spoon perfectly, and she doesn’t spill or drip a single drop. Her face doesn’t betray any of the thoughts and questions I’m sure are racing through her mind.
Finally, she sets down her spoon next to the bowl, taking a moment to compose herself before asking, “What’s the point?”
“I don’t get the question,” Gretchen replies, then stuffs a big bite of shrimp into her mouth.
“The monsters come out,” Greer says. “One of— Somebody bites them. They go back. That’s it?”
“That’s pretty much it.” Gretchen takes a gulp of her water.
“And this goes on for, like, what? Forever? For the rest of our—your life?”
Gretchen looks thoughtful as she sets down her glass and considers Greer’s question. It’s a valid question. I mean, Gretchen’s been doing this for years, since we were twelve. Maybe she’s never thought about where it’s all going. Maybe she’s always been willing to devote her entire life to stalking monsters in the night. Or, as it’s been lately, in the day and dusk and dawn and any other time. Maybe she’s never asked herself the question, Then what?
“I—” Gretchen stammers. She looks uncertain for the first time since we met. Then, as if realizing her display of weakness, she clenches her jaw and flattens her palms on the table. “I don’t know.”
“I do,” I say.
Both girls look at me.
“Well, I know part of it,” I add. “It was in that Medusa book that told me about Greer, about the three sisters in every generation. It says that the monsters are sealed in the other realm until the Key Generation is born.”
“The Key Generation?” Greer echoes.
Gretchen asks, “What’s that?”
“It’s a set of triplets.” My heart races as I tell them everything I know. “Triplets that had to be separated at birth for their protection, and who are reunited when the time is right to break the seal.”
“Break the seal?” Gretchen barks. “That’s the only thing keeping the beasts from overrunning our realm. Why on earth would we break it?”
“The book didn’t say,” I answer quietly.
“Well, the book is wrong,” she snaps, pushing back from the table and lurching to her feet.
I wish that were true, if only to stop the pain I see in her eyes. She’s been dealt a lot of jarring and emotional blows in the past couple weeks. It’s no wonder she’s having a bad re-action to the latest news.
“The book is wrong, the rules are wrong.” She closes her eyes. “This whole situation is wrong. I’m out of here.”
I stand too, needing to be on equal ground. “Gretchen, don’t—”
“No.” She grabs her jacket off the back of her chair. “I’ve had enough.”
“You don’t mean that,” I say, desperate. She can’t walk away.
“I do,” she says, shrugging into her jacket. “Things were better before.”
My stomach plummets. “Before?”
Her silver eyes look directly into mine as she says, “Before we met.”
A thousand things run through my head, everything that’s happened in the past few days. The fact that she kidnapped me that first night. That we’re blood. That things are changing and she can’t do it alone anymore. That she agrees I need training, for my own protection.
I focus on the last one.
“What about my training?” I demand. I won’t let her toss me aside. Or Greer, either. I’ve been missing something all my life, and now that I know what it is—my sisters, my destiny—I can’t just let it slip away. “Greer needs training too.”
“You don’t need training,” she says, flicking a sneering glace at Greer.
“But—”
“You need to keep your heads down.” She shrugs into her leather jacket. “If you see a monster, look the other way.”
This can’t be happening. “But—”
“No,” she says. “Don’t. Don’t look the other way. Don’t react at all. As long as they don’t know you see them, they won’t know what you are.”
What I am. Who I am. Being a huntress is my heritage, my destiny. I won’t pretend that I don’t know. I won’t go back to being ordinary. I choose to embrace this life, this fate. I’m done being a cowering doormat. I want to stand up and be powerful.
“You’re not thinking this through,” I say, trying to reason with her. “What about the bounty? And talking with Sthenno? Or what if you get outnumbered because more monsters are getting out? What if they trap you or corner you in a—”
“I can take care of myself,” she says with absolute finality. She doesn’t look me in the eyes. “You do the same.”
She reaches into her pocket, pulls a few crumpled bills out, and throws them on the table. Then, without a glance at either me or Greer, she stomps out of the restaurant.
“Is she always so difficult?” Greer asks.
I sigh. “She’s had a tough week.”
“Tell me about it,” Greer says with a laugh. “And that’s not even taking into account the madness you two brought to my door.”
I study her, the image of poised perfection. Perfect hair, perfect clothes, perfect makeup. I wonder if the rest of her life is this perfect, or if it’s just the image.
“What are your parents like?” I ask. It’s a question I can’t ask Gretchen—I don’t need to ask—but I want to know more about Greer too.
“Wonderful,” she replies automatically. Almost like a robot. Then she blinks a few times and admits, “They’re gone a lot. Doing very important jobs and supporting very worthy causes, of course.”
“Of course,” I agree. But I definitely get the subtext.
“They—I—” She breathes in and out purposefully. “I had no idea I was adopted.”
My mouth pulls into a silent Oh. “No wonder you were so shocked to find us on your front step,” I say. “I’ve always known, and it just never entered my mind that you might not.”
“Yes, well—” She straightens her spine and smiles “What about your parents? Are they . . . nice?”
I can’t help but beam. “Oh, they’re great. They’re very loving and supportive and I can’t imagine better parents. And I have a brother named Thane.”
“What kind of name is Thane?” she asks, and I can’t tell if she’s intrigued or appalled.
“The kind he came with,” I say, kind of defensively. “He’s great too.”
“I’m sure.”
This time I can tell she’s mocking me. She has no idea. Maybe she’s okay with parents who are off running businesses and saving the world, with no time left for her, but she shouldn’t make assumptions about anyone else’s parents.
We fall into a kind of awkward silence until, suddenly, she pushes back from the table and stands.
“You know what?” she says, pulling out her wallet and throwing a fifty dollar bill on the table. “Gretchen had the right idea.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I have a busy life,” she says, slipping her purse onto her shoulder, “and a bright future. I have an alumnae tea to organize and class president duties and a very busy social calendar. Monsters don’t fit into the plan.”
“What about sisters?” I ask, my voice small, afraid I won’t like the answer.
She looks down at me, her silver eyes cold and empty, and says, “Sisters don’t fit either.”
Then she turns on her very high heels and strides away. I watch, helpless, as she disappears out the front door. She can’t mean that. She can’t walk away, they can’t walk away from this. I mean, we’re sisters. That has to count for something. That has to count for everything.
I drop back into my seat, completely deflated. How could this all go so wrong so fast? How could my sisters—my sisters!—not see how wonderful it is that we’ve found each other after all these years? How can they not see how important it is for us to stick together in this crazy monster-hunting business, especially now that so much is changing? Our lives, and the lives of countless humans, depend on us.
“Your sisters leave?” the waitress asks, eyeing their empty seats.
“Yeah,” I say with a sigh. “They’re gone.”
I shove my barely touched avocado roll away. My appetite isn’t about to return now. The waitress clears away our plates and I’m left feeling completely alone at a table for three. This isn’t right.
I’m not sure how long I sit there, staring blankly at nothing in particular. Hours maybe. But all of a sudden, after processing the swirl of sadness, depression, and helplessness, I come to a decision. I’m done watching things happen around me. I’m going to take action.
“I can’t let them walk away.”
I push to my feet, leaving my money on the table with Greer’s and Gretchen’s—that’ll be one very happy waitress when she counts her tips—and head out onto the sidewalk with a sense of purpose. They may think they can go back to the way things always were, to pretend that we never met, but everything has changed. And I’m going to make them see that.
I don’t know how, for sure, but I will not sit by and let my long-lost sisters vanish back into oblivion.