Chapter 30

There was nothing else in the world then but the roar of the ocean, the limitless stretch of dark beach, and Annalise standing before me, no longer a society princess but a wild creature, her hair afloat, her skin washed silver in the moonlight. The wind ruffled her garment, and it seemed to swim over her body. The wind swept over me, too, but I was no longer cold.

“Come with me, Evelyn,” she repeated. “You are a serpentina, the daughter of a proud and ancient family, and heir to powers unknown among men. It is time to claim what is yours.”

“But what kind of powers?” I asked, feeling once again like the schoolgirl, face-to-face with a goddess.

“You will see.” Annalise took a step toward the water.

I wasn’t ready to let go of solid earth yet.

“What is that around your neck, Annalise?”

She smiled and showed me the ornament she wore. “It’s an unopened oyster,” she said. “Inside is an exquisite pearl of unequaled size and beauty.”

“How do you know, if it was never opened?”

“I know,” she said. “The ocean keeps no secrets from me. Nor will it from you.”

“Why do you wear it?”

She bent and scooped up a handful of sand, which she let filter through her fingers. “Each serpentina, as she approaches the age of womanhood, fashions herself a talisman. It symbolizes the gift she has inherited, and what she hopes it will make of her.”

“Is that when she becomes a serpentina?” I asked.

“That is when she becomes a woman,” Annalise said. “She is a serpentina born.”

“Does the talisman … do anything?”

Annalise shrugged. “Perhaps. People do tell their strange stories. But I would rather think of it as the serpentina who does something.”

“Do I need to make one?”

“I think, instead,” she said, “you bought yours from gypsies.” She parted the collar of my cloak with one hand. “There’s another one, now,” she said, looking puzzled. “What is this?”

I placed my hand over the bone charm. “It wards against snakebite.”

Annalise threw back her head and laughed. “Snakebite? You bought that?”

I didn’t see why this was so amusing. “Yes.” I was glad she hadn’t seen my love charm.

“You sweet child,” she said, “don’t you know that no snake alive can harm you? Serpentinas are completely protected from snake venom. Snakes on land or sea will adore you.”

I thought of the little snake in Grandfather’s apple tree. And then, I thought of Grandfather. Who was I? Lem Pomeroy’s granddaughter from Maundley, or the lost daughter of an alien clan of snake women from over the sea? How could I be both?

“We waste time talking,” Annalise said. “Come into the water, sister serpentina, and swim as you were born to do.” And without a further word she turned and ran toward the water, neither hesitating as she neared the waves nor pausing to shiver as she entered them. As soon as the water reached her waist she dove under its surface.

I watched and waited. Far out in the deep sea, flashes of silver and gold showed me the leviathans at play. But where was Annalise?

I hurried toward the edge to watch for her, dreading to see her drowned body drift to the surface. I was back on the beach by the sunken White Dragon all over again, and drowning in my own fear.

“Evelyn!”

I scanned the whole wide beach, looking for the source of her voice. A hundred yards or more away her wet head appeared, and her long white arm waved to me.

She swam that entire distance without coming up for a breath!

She dove under again, aiming back toward shore, and soon rose dripping from the water. Even soaking wet, her poise and grace were undiminished. She stood knee deep, holding out her hand to me.

“Join me in the water, cousin,” she cried. “This is your initiation.”

“A bath in the sea is my initiation?” I called back to her over the waves.

“Knowledge is your initiation,” she cried. “Knowledge of what you can do, and showing the courage and faith to do it. Throw yourself into the water.”

“But I can’t swim!”

“Yes, you can.”

My leviathan raised his whiskered head from the waves.

It’s true, Mistress, he said. You can swim as well as I can.

But I nearly drowned before, I told him.

You didn’t know before. I will be here to help you, but you won’t need my help.

I don’t want to be a serpentina, I thought, looking at the inky black water and at Annalise’s outstretched hand. I don’t want to swim, and I don’t want to spend my life alone, cast out from society. Nor do I want to spend life trying to hide my secret. I don’t want to be a strange woman with strange powers. Once upon a time, a thousand years ago, all I wanted was to be a doctor and healer.

You are a healer. Because you’re a serpentina.

I looked up, surprised. My leviathan, it seemed, could hear more of my thoughts than I realized. His emerald-cut head tilted to one side, and his jewel green eyes watched me without blinking. Wise eyes. Loving eyes.

You are magnificent, I told him, even if this was not what I wanted.

You are magnificent, Mistress, he said. Swim with me. And, please. Give me a name.

I took a deep breath, and placed one foot in the surf. It was cold, but soon I didn’t feel it. I placed another foot farther in.

A name. What kind of name did one give a mighty sea serpent? Names like John and Harold didn’t seem to fit.

I took another step in. Water reached the legs of my garment.

I reached Annalise and took her hand.

“If we were on Merlia, your initiation would include a swim at sunrise with the entire sisterhood of living serpentinas,” she said. “What a thrill that would be for you. But for serpentina girls on Merlia, the initiation is mostly ceremonial. They swim before they can walk. They name their leviathan as soon as they can speak. They know their powers from an early age by watching their mothers. But for you, today, this is a true initiation. You face your fears, you claim your identity, you leap into the sea. It’s an honor to share this moment with you.”

Well, Evie, I told myself, you can either stand here with wet ankles or you can take the plunge. My leviathan, watching me, did a sudden sideways roll, coming up dripping. I envied him his freedom in the water, his complete power and confidence. And suddenly I was sick of standing on the shore.

I let go of Annalise’s hand, counted to three, and then to four for good measure, and finally launched myself out into the water. My dive wasn’t graceful like Annalise’s. I more or less fell forward. But the water received me softly. I rose up with my hair plastered over my face, and sputtered out water.

“Take a deep breath, love,” Annalise said, “and go under.”

“I need to breathe, do I?” I said. “I thought perhaps I’d sprout gills.”

Annalise laughed. “Your leviathan needs to come to the surface to breathe too,” she said. “But watch and see what you and he can do.”

My leviathan slid over the surface of the water to me and rubbed against my legs.

Ride my back, Mistress, he said. Let me show you the ocean.

“But what happens when I need to breathe?” I insisted.

When you do, I’ll bring you up.

I threw one leg over his back and leaned forward, wrapping my arms around him.

I’m trusting you, leviathan.

I know.