Isn't It A Sight?

Quentin

Of course.

Of course Avina would make tonight about her. Of course she would decide that she finally wants me home, but only because she needs me. Of course she would—

“You with me, Dot?”

I inhale, reminding myself to breathe, and nod. It’s just so much. I don’t know how we got here, and I don’t just mean how we slipped through the crowd to this relatively private section of the ballroom. Elochian and Tobias have claimed their places, both separately and together. Elochian held my hand as he did so, and his heart reached out to mine in a beautiful cloud of gold. Again, I nearly told him, with thousands of people as our witness, that I love him.

It’s coming, I can feel it. Even so, to be able to say that Elochian is mine, and I am his? I never thought that would happen. I never thought we would get here.

“Me either,” Elochian murmurs, ever so patiently leading me through the motions. One hand rests on my waist, while the other gently cups my own hand.

I frown. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Yes.”

“What did I say?”

“That you never thought we’d get here.”

“Oh. I think I’m losing it.”

“That’s okay. I’ll help you find it.”

I laugh breathlessly, resting my head on his shoulder. Elochian sways in place and I allow him to guide the push and pull of our bodies, melting in his arms. It’s a different type of push and pull than what we did last night, a different form of coming together to become one.

I say, “I could do this forever, I think.”

He hums. “I like the sound of that.”

“You don’t mind that it’s slow?”

“No. Not at all.”

The song changes, but we keep on the way we are. After a little while, I say, “I’m the Second Prince of Agia. I—I assume my brother’s dead, or something’s happened. That’s got to be why she came for me.”

Elochian’s wings flutter once, then go still. After we slowly rock into our third revolution since the word ‘prince,’ he chuckles. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“It doesn’t change anything.”

I straighten, glaring at him. He lifts a brow, accelerating our dance a touch. I say, “It doesn’t change anything.”

“No, that’s what I said.”

“Lochian—that’s—if anything were to happen between us, we’d be—well, there would be a lot of red tape, formal ties between Agia and the clan—” Elochian laughs, sending me out for a spin. Upon returning, I slap his chest. “What are you laughing at!”

“Only you would describe a potential marriage as a mess of red tape.”

My cheeks flush, and not from the dance. “It’s true.”

“You’re not a Prince anymore, Quentin. You don’t have to go back.”

“I don’t want to.”

He pulls me close, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Stay.”

“In Levena, or with you?”

Elochian’s hands abandon their posts in favor of cupping my cheeks. He stares into my eyes, thumbs sweeping over my face. “With me. Your soulmate.”

Tears sting my eyes, and my lungs stutter. “Y—you knew?”

He smiles, broad and instant. “You knew?”

I laugh. “Yes. Your wingmarks glow whenever I’m around.” I fidget with my glasses. “I can see it with these, but I didn’t know what it was. But then I saw my own, and I—I didn’t know whether to tell you, I didn’t want to ….”

He shakes his head. “Of course you did. You didn’t want to what?”

I drop my gaze. “I didn’t want to scare you.”

Elochian’s hand leaves my waist and takes a gentle hold of my chin. He tilts my head back, and kisses me. It’s like our first kiss, soft and slow. Like us. He kisses me like we have all the time in the world, and we’re completely alone. Both sentiments are complete and total lies, but for a moment, I choose to believe in them. I kiss him back, indulging in my soulmate.

After a moment, he breaks away. “Ask me to move in with you.”

“What—really? You would?”

“Yes, I think I would. I might run away a couple days a week, crawl into a hole and panic, but I’ll be back. I promise.”

I laugh. “Okay. Lochian, will you move in with me?”

“Of course I will, what took you so long?”

I kiss him through a smile, and we dance together for a little bit longer.

It’s Arche who finds us first. He slinks through the crowd, his eyes a dull red that comes with not feeding properly. He sidles up to me, and nods to Elochian. “Hello.”

“Hey, are you ready?” I ask, lifting my head off Elochian’s shoulder.

“That’s what I was coming to ask you. I’ll be heading out soon.”

“Ready? For what?” Elochian asks, eyes widening.

I smile at him. “I’ve planned a small surprise for you.”

His face falls. “No.”

I try not to laugh. “Yes.”

“What—how.” He states more than asks. “It’s your birthday.”

I kiss his cheek. “You’ll see. Michael knows what’s going on, ask them.” I pull out of his embrace and straighten my clothes, smoothing out any wrinkles.

“Quentin, I don’t like this,” he says, wings shivering.

“Hey, I’ll just be at the stage, okay?”

“Take—”

“I’m taking Annie with me, per Michael’s instruction.” I nod to the space behind Elochian, where both guardians wait. Annie is all business, but Michael wears a wry smile.

Elochian turns, then sighs and rubs his temple. “Fine. Be careful. Please.” He stares at Michael for a moment, then says, “You go with him. Annie, you’re with me.”

Michael’s smile fades. “Sir.”

“Don’t ‘Sir’ me, if you’re going to plan surprises behind my back, then you’ll suffer the consequences. Now go on.” He makes a shooing gesture, pretending to be haughty. “Annie and the twenty other guardians surrounding me right now will do just fine.”

Michael scowls at Elochian. “Sir, with all due respect, no. Annie, go.”

Annie nods, crossing the small distance without so much as a backwards glance at Elochian. When she joins my side I say, “Listen to Michael, he knows best. ‘Kay?”

“You both realize I am the one in charge here?”

“We know, sunshine. We know.”

Elochian shakes his head, frowning. “Be quick about it.”

I smile. “I will.”

Annie ushers us towards the stage, and I follow her lead. Keeping close to my side, Arche mutters, “Well, that wasn’t dramatic or anything.”

“He’s just worried.”

“Enough to want his personal bodyguard and a witch to escort you across the room?”

“If he’s here,” I whisper, looking at the people we pass by. “He could be anyone.”

“I’m dangerous, you know.”

“I have no doubts about that.”

Arche says nothing. By the time we make it to the stage I’m a little sweaty, thanks to my nerves and the sheer amount of people around us. At first glance the orchestra is composed of traditional instruments like the cello and violin, bass and piano, saxophone and clarinet. An abandoned microphone is at the helm of the stage, and at the back where you have to squint to see it, is a beautiful drum set flanked by two guitars, all quiet. The sight of the drum set spurs me on.

A pair of security guards are situated at both entrances to the raised stage, and I’m sure there are more at the rear of the platform as well. Annie converses with one, quietly announcing our intent. When they allow us to pass through, Annie leads us to the front of the stage, and the music dies. Primo and Silas are already there.

“You made it,” I whisper to Primo, who I wasn’t sure was going to come.

He smiles. “Wouldn’t miss a chance to make music with you for the world, kid.”

“Let’s get on with it already,” Silas signs, figure tense. Since learning I don’t know why he insisted on coming, on helping me with this instead of staying behind with Felix at the castle, but I’m glad he’s here.

I tell him so, and he blows at a strand of hair draped over one of the eye holes in his mask. I look between Arche, Primo, and Silas. “We all ready?”

They agree in one way or another, severing any chances for me to procrastinate. I’ve made my bed, time to lie in it. I study the microphone, wondering how the fuck Elochian made this look so easy. I exhale a shaky breath, searching the immediate crowd for Elochian. It doesn’t take me long to find him, standing there front and center with Michael at his side, and Arlo too, with Tobias and some of the others. Elochian stares up at me, and I wave a little. He smiles tightly, nerves fraying before my eyes.

I had a whole speech planned, but it’s long forgotten, wiped clean by the moment and all it entails. I say, “I’ve written a song for Lord Adrastus. I hope you like it.”

Elochian straightens, the corner of his mouth softening, and I wink at him before turning away. I sit down at my throne, a cushioned stool that spoils me immediately, while Silas and Primo take up the guitars in front of me. Arche gingerly takes the microphone from its stand, holding onto it with both hands. After hearing Arche sing I just knew that it had to be him, no offense to Tobias, but it did take much coercing.

I start us off with a solid, consistent beat on the kick drum that may or may not be based on what I think Elochian’s heartbeat sounds like. After ten seconds pass, I add another rhythm using the tom drums, which is Silas’ cue.

Silas’ tone is warm and strong as he begins to strum. The notes are complex, something he made up on the fly in our first session together, but he makes it look so easy. He deftly alternates between strumming and plucking the strings in what some would consider to be a bizarre way. The piece is organized chaos, strong and relentless. His dexterity is unparalleled, and his nonchalance as he plays could read as smug to some, but I know better.

But then he looks up at Primo, mouth twitching in a way that seems to read, ‘try that on,’ and slows his strumming to the original chord which follows the heartbeat.

Primo laughs, easing into his own solo. His notes are a touch more refined, the edges more crisp. He plays like he has all the time in the world, too, fingers lazily dancing up and down the neck of the guitar. It’s a gradual thing, the way his notes speed up and become this lyrical masterpiece, something beautiful and truly once in a lifetime. It eventually transforms, becoming one with Silas’ chords, and my snare drum hits, marking the beginning of something new.

And then, Archeon sings, revealing the depths of my heart and soul.

“I dream of stones, and the way they skip over the water. I dream of bones, and the way they haunt you. I dream of a day when I’m unafraid, and ready to fight.

Because isn’t it a sight, to stand for those you love?

Because isn’t it a sight, to say that’s enough?

Because isn’t it a sight, to sleep in peace beside you?

I dream of stones, and the people they lead us to. I dream of bones, and all they teach us. I dream of a day when I’m terrified, and ready to fight.

Because isn’t it a sight, to stand for those you love?

Because isn’t it a sight, to say that’s enough?

Because isn’t it a sight, to sleep in peace beside you?

I dream of stones, and the day you place one on my grave. I dream of bones, and the day yours are laid to rest with mine.

Because isn’t it a sight, to stand for those you love?

Because isn’t it a sight, to say that’s enough?

Because isn’t it a sight, to sleep in peace beside you?”

Silas and Primo reach a crescendo with Arche’s last line, as do I, and then all of us fade into silence. Five seconds pass, and the ballroom screams. Silas drops his guitar, thankfully he’s wearing a strap, and squishes his headphones over his ears. Primo laughs again, clearly having the time of his life.

I stand with wobbly knees and Primo thrusts out a hand to me, which causes the applause to double. I join him, Arche, and Silas, and all of us bow at the waist to the crowd. The moment we straighten, Silas makes a beeline for the exit without saying goodbye. I watch him go until I’m sure he’s made it off the stage safely, then turn to Primo and Arche.

“Thanks guys, I think it’s safe to say it went well,” I half-shout over the crowd’s continued noise.

Chuckling, Arche loudly says, “I have to admit, we sounded pretty damn good.”

Primo extends a hand to Arche, who shakes it firmly. “We really fucking did. Come by the shop sometime, eh?”

Arche nods. “I will. Now if you don’t mind, I think I’ve earned a cigarette.”

I laugh. “If you say so.”

We watch him go, then Primo offers his hand to me. I shake it, and he says, “Go find your man, and I’ll see you around.”

“Thank you, Primo. Really.”

He winks at me, and I grin. Then we go our separate ways. Instead of using one of the front entrances, Annie opts for exiting the stage using the rear entrance. It was Michael’s back up plan in case the crowd became too much, and that seems to be the case. Behind the stage is an empty, narrow hallway that delivers us into a private room for entertaining, reserved for the band. As we go down the stairs connecting the stage to ground level, she says, “Lord Adrastus is waiting for you just this way.”

I nod, sticking close to her side. She’s always quick and efficient, all business. She—

She doesn’t speak, due to a Vow of Silence.

I skid to a stop and bring my hand to my tattoo in attempts to summon the quill, but my fingers pause just short of pushing up my sleeve, as if they’ve been submerged in mud.

My entire body feels the same way, like I’m immersed in a cold bog. The same feeling I had in the bar. I fight against the invisible force, glaring at Annie as she approaches.

I open my mouth, but her hand is there before I can scream.

“Ah, ah.” She quickly jabs at my neck, and it’s only after she pulls away do I see the syringe. She tosses it to the ground, then takes a large stone out of her pocket. She squeezes the back of my neck, fingers digging into my scalp, and activates the travel stone. I try to fight, to do something. All I manage to do is retain consciousness, even as the ballroom disappears, twisted into somewhere new.

Once warm and full of love, the air is now dank and chilling. The shift of atmosphere seizes my lungs, and I cough against the sulfuric fumes that hit me like an afterthought. My legs give way and I fall to my knees, but Annie doesn’t release my hair, simply lowers her arm after the fact. A cry forms on my lips, but dies shortly after its birth. I blink away tears, already struggling to maintain my vision due to the drugs.

 “Isn’t it a sight,” A voice sings, lofty and high. A tall form stands in front of me. “Such a beautiful song could only be made by such a beautiful disaster as you. But there’s something missing …”

The person kneels, then cups my chin and turns my face upwards. I search the person’s face, sluggishly clearing the cobwebs from my mind. Curly, shiny horns. Demon. Weird blue mustache, and long hair that tickles my nose and makes me want to sneeze. But it’s the eyes that I recognize, cunning and harsh, the irises an unsettling white.

Something cool swipes across my bottom lip. A finger?

“D—Daniel.”

“Oh, look at the fight in you.” He grins, revealing razor sharp teeth. Every single one of them. The cool sensation goes back and forth across my bottom lip a couple more times. “You really are so pretty like this, what am I to do?”

He lowers his face until we’re inches apart, the descent is slow and for lack of a better word, hallucinogenic. His skin fades to a pasty complexion, the pigment ebbing and flowing as it changes. His mustache recedes, and the hairs seem to scream as they disappear. His long hair shortens, flashing wildly between blue, black, white, and red, until it’s long enough to reach his jaw, then it remains at black.

His nose crunches, and his cheekbones moan as they smooth out into something human. His horns crumble to dust, and I’m forced to inhale the opal cloud as it passes between our faces. His fingers thin and the nails elongate, piercing the underside of my jaw as his grip tightens. Lastly, his eyes flutter between the familiar toxic blue that I remember, glaring white, and finally, blood red.

Echoed by a murderous ghost, River says, “It’s time to pay for your sins, Glimmer.”