Twelve Signa #3
“Yes, but I never expected you’d agree .
” Blythe was no fool. She knew something was going on, but Signa could practically see her weighing the merit of confronting them or accepting this rare chance at getting Aris out caroling in good spirits.
“We should bring caramels!” she added. “I’ll fetch a box of them, and, Aris, you can hand them out.
Signa, do you want me to grab your coat? ”
“I won’t be joining you,” Signa said, hoping her voice sounded sufficiently distressed. “It sounds like a lovely time, but as I’ve been sitting here, I’m afraid I’ve gotten a rather splitting headache.”
“Oh no.” Blythe’s shoulders slumped. She stepped forward, pressing the back of her hand to Signa’s forehead. “Do you think you’re getting sick? ”
“I think I’ll be fine after a bit of rest.” She hated lying to Blythe, but she had no choice.
“Why don’t I stay with you?” Blythe offered. “We can curl up inside and eat cookies by the fire. Maybe play some charades…”
“Dear God, no,” Aris spat, though everyone ignored him.
“I’ll be fine,” Signa urged, hoping her smile was convincing. The spirit at the piano was beginning to let his hands wander too close to the keys for comfort. Another minute, and he’d likely be playing a tune on his own. “Please go and have fun on my behalf. I absolutely insist.”
Blythe looked primed to fight her on it, though she relaxed when Aris took hold of her hand, producing a large tin of caramels that he handed to her. “Very well… but do feel better, Signa. Perhaps we can try to continue our games in the evening.”
Signa’s nose scrunched with her smile. “I look forward to it.”
Aris must have sensed her desperation. “I’ll have the room ready for you,” he whispered before looping his fingers through Blythe’s and starting toward the door. Elijah followed at a distance but not before stopping at the threshold to give Signa a stern look.
“Would this whole charade not be easier to manage if you were honest about the situation?”
“It would,” she admitted, “but Aris wants her to have the perfect Christmas.”
“And you think that’s what this is? The two of you running around, trying to distract her? Blythe’s perfect Christmas includes you, Signa. You shouldn’t be sitting at home while the rest of us have fun.”
Signa pressed her lips together, frowning. Elijah was right. Of course he was. But by the time they returned home from their caroling, she hoped that this entire mess would be over and she’d be able to resume partaking in the festivities.
“I just need a few more hours,” she told him. “That’s all.”
Though he looked far from happy about it, Elijah relented. “Don’t do anything risky.”
“I won’t, I promi—” She cut herself off with a flinch as the spirit pressed down on one of the keys. Elijah gave a long sigh, shaking his head, but he saw himself out of the parlor. The moment the door shut behind them, Signa whirled on the spirits.
One sat on the center of the bench, the others closing in. Slowly, she stepped forward to join them. Gundry lumbered after her, there if she needed him.
“You miss your music, don’t you?” Signa asked.
The spirit trailed his fingers down the keys, a pained look in his eyes.
“ It’s been ages since I’ve had a piano ,” he said. His words were slow and rough, as though he’d not spoken in a very long time. “I’m not even sure I’d be any good at it these days.”
There was longing in his voice. All the spirits bore the weight of it, their shoulders curved inward and their chests slumped.
“You’ll be excellent,” she assured him, lowering herself to the edge of the bench and settling her hand beside his. “It’s still in you. Time will not have changed that.”
His frown sank deep into his face, but he nodded.
“Wouldn’t you like to give it a try?” she pressed.
“There are people waiting on your music. I can get you a piano of your own, if you’d like.
You can play to your heart’s content.” She lifted her head to look at the others, who were crowded near.
“All of you can play. If you head into the library, there will be a piano for you, a violin, and…”
“A flute,” the last spirit said when it was clear Signa was waiting for it to speak.
“And a flute, yes. We’ll have everything for you.”
The musicians looked among themselves and seemed hopeful as they slipped from the room, disappearing through the walls and making their way up to the library.
Close. She was so close to finally being done with this mess.
Sylas? She spoke his name down their bond, waiting until she felt the comforting stir of his presence listening. Is there music in the afterlife?
Yes, Little Bird. His voice was like velvet stroking down her spine. There is everything.
Good. It was clear how much these spirits loved their music. Their performing. She couldn’t imagine sending them away to exist in a world without it.
Signa stood slowly, stretching out her back. I’m still annoyed with you, you know .
I know , Death answered, leaving Signa chewing on the inside of her lip.
Come home. I don’t want to spend Christmas without you.
Her entire body warmed, and she could practically feel his smile.
I’ll be there soon, he whispered, his voice gliding like silk across her mind. I swear it.
And with those words, he was gone again.
Signa sighed, her heart heavy, and made her way back up to the library.