Prelude (The Rhapsody Quartet) (35 page)

“Nothing but blue skies,” I said cheerfully.

“Good,” he said, slumping down onto the other rock slab, looking into my eyes. “I keep thinking to myself, worrying that you’re going to run into something, that you’re going to—” his voice caught, and his eyes shifted to a blue-gray color before they settled back to the orange, pink, and gold combination again.

“Score,” I said, laughing, “relax. Take some breaths.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “You’re right. Sorry.” He took a few moments to collect himself, then he nodded. He swung his guitar case around, unsnapping it carefully. “Lyra, I want to sing for you.”

My mouth opened, just a bit. He didn’t expect me to sing with him, did he?

“Score, that’s nice, but I’m not ready—”

He held a hand up, “I just want you to hear me out. That’s all. Don’t you trust me?”

I sighed, closing my eyes.
Did
I trust him? There was a lot I didn’t know about Score. Everything I’d learned about him had come directly from his own mouth. For all I knew, he’d been lying to me from the start. Yet— I felt in my bones that he’d been mostly honest with me. I still had the feeling he was keeping a few things from me, but overall, I thought he was being truthful.

If Glenn were here, he’d probably list off at least a dozen reasons why I shouldn’t trust Score. Maybe a hundred. I chewed my lip, considering it. I glanced up into his eyes. “I shouldn’t trust you,” I admitted, “I think… I think there are things you’re keeping from me.”

His face fell, his eyes changing to pure orange for a moment. The color shift confirmed it: I was right. Score hadn’t been completely open with me.

I stood, brushing the sand from my jeans. I tucked a few stray hairs back behind my ears. “I shouldn’t… but I
do
.”

He laughed, shaking his head, “You had me a bit worried there, Lyra.”

I closed the gap between us. “I hope that someday you’ll let me know what you’re holding back, but we haven’t known each other very long, so I get it, Score. I get it.”

His eyes were all rose-colored now. He smiled softly at me, wrapping one arm around my shoulders. He leaned forward, breathing deeply. “
Thank you
, Lyra.”

Score backed up, settling down on the stone. I sat across from him, watching him take a moment to compose himself. His hands carefully wrapped around the guitar’s neck and base. His eyes were closed, and he waited until his breaths were rhythmic before he began to play.

I knew, at least somewhat, what to expect. But when he started, the music captivated me. It felt like I’d been anchored to him somewhere near my navel, a connection tethering us. It made me want to be nearer to him, to remove the space between us.

I closed my eyes, enjoying the melody. It was catchy and infectious within a sea of complicated chords. Score began to sing in a smooth voice with the lightest hint of a rich huskiness. His words were English to accommodate for me— to let me know exactly what was on his mind.

Tangled up in you…

I’m just, tangled up in you

A thousand little moments,

Pieces of the whole,

Weave us both together,

Sharing hearts to make us full

And I just wonder

Where will we go from here?

If I could fix every problem,

Oh I would, I would…

But every day there’s new drama

Tangled up in you…

So we can fly, we can fly

Would a lifetime be too much?

A moment’s not enough

With you an instant stretches

Into infinity’s touch

And I just wonder

Where will we go from here?

Take my hand, don’t be shy,

And the two of us can fly…

We can fly…

Hold on tight, meet our fate,

There’s no time to hesitate

So we can fly, we can fly…

The song wasn’t long, perhaps two or three minutes. It didn’t need to be. Score just wanted to express himself in the simplest way he could manage. That’s what it was for sirens, I finally realized. At its core, our songs were more about our need for clarity, our own need to release emotion. Our words might get jumbled when we spoke, but the addition of the melody brought forth a deep understanding to what would otherwise be difficult to communicate.

And what was Score trying to say?

He still wanted to run with me, escape the other extras of this world. Those who might try to hunt me down, hunt us both down. We could carve out our own path.

I felt dizzy, suddenly. I’d been holding my breath as I listened, so I exhaled slowly.

He carefully placed his guitar back in its case. He clasped it shut. Score didn’t say anything. He just sat, waiting for my response.

“That was beautiful,” I finally managed, “but you knew that already.”

He smiled softly, his head tilted towards the sand at his feet. He looked up at me through his long, dark lashes. “You make me sick, you know.” He sighed, “I probably should’ve ignored Whitecrest all together. I’m not sure why I bothered to find you, honestly. But I’m glad I did.”

“I make you sick?” I didn’t know what he meant, exactly what he was trying to say.

“Yes… it’s like— when I’m with you, I can hardly breathe. I can’t think. But it’s worse when you’re away… it’s unbearable. I don’t want to be away from you anymore. The thought of something happening to you, of one of these attacks succeeding— I’m
tortured
by it every day. So let me take you away from it— come with me. Let me keep you safe and sound. We can search for information about the sirens together— and maybe we won’t ever find any real answers, but at least we’ll have each other.”

I nodded, trying to control my emotions, knowing they were written all over my eyes if not my face. My heart was beating wildly in my chest. There it was. Stated again in plain English, no lyrics or melody to decorate it.

The truth was, he made me feel the same way. When we were together, the world seemed easier, more natural, like all was well. Like he and I were the only people left. When we weren’t together, I often found myself counting down the hours until our next arranged meeting, or the minutes until our next shared class at school. Just being near him added some sense to this mad world.

This time, because I knew him better now, or maybe because the song presented it so beautifully, it was much more tempting to run with him. Perhaps it was because I knew that he’d been right. He
had
been more protected by choosing to stay anonymous and blend in, by concealing himself.

Was my search for answers futile? I wondered if I’d ever find a way to help my foster parents. Maybe my reliance on the council was stunting my opportunity to grow. I really
did
want to run with him… but I couldn’t leave Whitecrest in good conscience while my foster parents were comatose.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I also felt a deep sadness at the prospect of leaving Marin behind, of leaving Glenn. I’d miss my friends. I’d miss my life.

I hesitated before responding. “I… don’t know.”

He shook his head, frustration clouding his features. “I don’t understand how you don’t have an answer for me,” he said, staring into my eyes. “You
know
me, Lyra!”

“It’s not that simple.” I did know Score, at least superficially. I felt a surprising bond with him, maybe even love. But could I leave everything and everyone behind me? That was a more complex question. Hovering under the surface, I knew, was an ultimatum. It may not rear its head today, but soon enough Score would be telling me that with or without me, he was leaving.

His eyes grew a little cloudy, a dark purple. I wondered what it meant he was feeling. “Don’t you feel our connection?” he asked.

“It’s not that,” I said, “I feel it— we
do
share a bond, it’s just—”

He cut me off, “We’re
meant
to be together. You have to see it! I can feel in my bones that you’re my perfect match. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” he said, frustrated. “If you can’t see that, you need to help me out, because I’m
literally
the last guy on earth, here.”

I jumped up, my face turning scarlet. I was too inexperienced for this conversation. His implications left me mortified. I’d never had a boyfriend before, never even been kissed— and here’s this guy I’d only known a few weeks, telling me he and I were destined to be together. If that wasn’t enough pressure, we were the last hope for our species’ survival. It felt like he was asking me for sex.

I turned, face burning. I pulled my arms close, tugging on my jacket, trying to make myself small. How could I possibly respond to him?

The ocean lapped, tide rolling in and out for a couple moments. I heard him move towards me. My body tensed. I could feel the heat from his skin. The breeze carried the lightest fragrance of cinnamon warmth to my nostrils.

Score didn’t touch me. He just whispered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” His breath blew the hair around my neck. “It’s hard to feel this way about someone.” He sighed behind me, “I didn’t mean to upset you.” He moved away from me, taking two crunching steps.

I slowly turned, facing him. “Can you give me a break?” I asked. “I do like you—” I paused, not sure if like was the right word, then added, “a lot.” I bit my lip. “But you’re asking me to give up everything for you.” I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “You’ve had a whole year to get comfortable with the idea of leaving what you love behind. I’ve had less than a month.”

He sighed, looking conflicted, then nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He timidly took my hand, but seemed cheered when I didn’t snatch it away immediately. “Take some time,” he said, “but not too long, if you can help it.” His eyes were crystal clear, a pale blue, “The sooner we can leave Whitecrest, the sooner you’ll be safe.”

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

Overwhelmed

Late that evening, when Marin asked me how my date was, I wasn’t sure how to respond. I just shrugged.

“You’re not getting bored with him, are you?” she asked. “I probably would be. Especially if he was falling all over me as much as I’m sure he’s falling all over you.”

I shrugged again.

“Come on,” she pressed, “you have to at least give me some details to go on! I’m dying here!”

I chuckled, “Okay. We talked. He played his guitar for me.”

“You should have picked it up and shown him a thing or two!” She giggled, “Well, that sounds pretty good, though. What’s the problem? Did your ears begin to hemorrhage at the humanity of it? You’re definitely acting more subdued than usual.”

I leaned back on my bed, the book I picked up from Aldan open across my torso. “I don’t know,” I said, struggling to find an answer that wasn’t a total lie. I landed on something that didn’t give away too much, “I guess I’m just wondering where it’s going,” I said.

Marin flapped a hand dismissively, “Seriously?
That’s
what’s got you bent out of shape?” She laughed, “The answer is
nowhere
. That’s the best part of it!” She narrowed her eyes, “Unless you’re
falling
for him or something stupid like that.”

I laughed, “Yeah. You’re right.” I looked out the window. I could see the waning moon hovering over the Pacific, the reflection of the light giving the impression that someone had dumped silver glitter on the world.

A clap of thunder erupted outside,
real
thunder this time. I jumped, startled. It was late in the year for this type of storm.

Worry etched itself on Marin’s face. A tight frown formed on her lips. She raced to the window, then made a soft strangled noise, like the air was catching in her throat. “Glenn?” she asked shakily.

“Already on it,” he responded, gracefully picking himself up from the chair in the reading nook. He was notching an arrow in his bow. He slunk out the door, as silent and deadly as a big cat.

I scrambled over to Marin at the window. Below my room, surrounding the mansion, was an army.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It felt surreal. Glenn’s solitary figure strutted confidently forward. He was facing around 250 extras. The moon was gibbous, giving an eerie cast despite the dark clouds that seemed to materialize from nothing. The clouds rumbled ominously above, and the air felt electrified. I wondered if the charge was all the magic at our doorstep.

The extras who had arrived, simultaneously, were many shapes and sizes, many different races. I recognized a handful from my studies. There were more centaurs— which wasn’t surprising— but there were also gargoyles, pixies, and dwarves.

From my window, I could make out two elves in the distance. They wore different clothes than Glenn, and their faces were painted fiercely.

Many of the creatures looked almost entirely human, but their eyes were unnatural shades that proved otherwise. They could’ve been vampires or witches, even mermaids or djinn… I just didn’t know.

After Glenn stepped outside, a single centaur moved forward to address him. Glenn kept his arrow knocked back, the string drawn so the arrow’s butt rested just below his right eye.

The centaur raised a hand, showing he was unarmed. He called for all to hear, “We just want the siren.”

“Do you know how many of you are breaking treaties you have with her kind?”

He snorted, “We’re willing to accept the consequences. It seems worth it.”

Glenn’s eyes shifted around him, taking in every single soldier he could see. “I don’t want to have to kill you all.”