Chapter 27 Moths
MOTHS
Iknocked on the studio door. To my surprise, Mal answered.
She was choreographing for her next class; I begged her to let me dance with her.
She obliged. Despite her tough style as a dance teacher, she was warm and compassionate and didn’t say anything about the tears running down my face as I danced out my frustrations.
So many frustrations. Everything with Ciaran.
The way my magic remained completely out of control despite my best efforts to train it.
The way my life was off the rails, and I was losing the thread of ever being able to go back to normal.
The way I didn’t even know what normal was anymore, and I didn’t know if I wanted to go back to it, but having the choice taken away from me was worse than anything.
The way those assholes had treated me like some kind of petulant child.
I couldn’t even look at them. So, I learned Mal’s choreography and danced until sweat poured off my skin, and I finally felt a bit of relief.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Mal handed me some water after we had done the piece so many times that I could have danced the choreography in my sleep.
“Not really,” I deflected. But I saw the look in Mal’s eye—the disappointment tinged with real concern, and decided that maybe I could open up to her.
I was used to being closed off. Maren was the only one who could ever force me to talk about my problems. But Mal had a similar energy. Warm, compassionate, effusive.
“Okay. I’m having a hard time,” I admitted.
The weight of everything that I had been carrying these long months suddenly felt unbearable.
But if I could talk to Mal about it, maybe I could lighten that load.
“Everything in my life has changed. I had it all, Mal. I was a professional dancer. I had friends. I had a man. I belonged. And it’s all gone.
Not only is it gone, but I’ve been accused of witchcraft and sentenced to die if I go back.
Maybe none of the things I had were ever exactly what I wanted, but they were something.
Now I don’t even know what I have. I’m so scared all the time.
If I can sleep at all, I end up dreaming about the chandelier disaster. And things with Ciaran are…”
I paused, the word vomit finally abating long enough for me to wonder if I should continue down this path. But hell, I had spilled my guts already. Might as well hold nothing back.
“This thing with Ciaran is so confusing. Half the time I think I’m falling for him but, how can I be falling for someone I barely even know?
When I’m with him, I feel better, lighter, and then I’m hit with a one two punch of guilt because I shouldn’t be feeling these things, should I?
I should be sad about leaving my old life behind, but sometimes I’m just not.
And I’m so tired of carrying all this and never talking to anyone about it and… shit… I’m sorry.”
“That is a lot, Seraphina.” Mal nodded, handing me a towel to catch the sweat and tears that were dripping down my face.
“I know I haven’t exactly been where you are now.
But every single person who lives down here left something behind.
Friends. Family. A career. In my case, it was all three.
But I will say, what I have gained from this community has been worth everything that I left behind.
I am able to live authentically here. I can be my true self in a way that would have surely gotten me killed if someone ever found out.
I was conflicted about it at first. Especially once I started to make new friends and make new art.
But it has been worth it. I think you will find that it’s worth it for you too,” Mal said as she smiled, her large eyes crinkling at the corners. “As for Ciaran…”
“Shit, I shouldn’t have said anything about that. I don’t even know how he feels. It’s probably all in my head or all on my side anyway,” I said, feeling nauseous at having shared that particular tidbit.
“It’s not all in your head.” Mal smiled again. “I don’t think so anyway. Give it time. It will all work out. I really believe that. I think you’d be good for him. He’s been lonely for too long. Aren’t you tired of just doing what you should do all the time anyway?” Mal’s smile turned mischievous.
And that was it. It was barely a five-minute conversation, but somehow, I felt lighter than I had in ages. Mal pulled me in for a hug, and I swore she was glowing.
“Want to dance it out one more time?” Mal asked as she pulled away from me.
“Yes, please.” I sniffled, wiping the tears from my cheeks.
So I danced the piece again, not once, but three more times.
Dancing had always been a refuge for me.
And singing? Well, it just felt complicated.
There was so much baggage, especially now, since that fateful gala…
the chandelier. Singing left me an open and festering wound.
But dancing gave me the clarity I needed.
“Hey, Seraphina?” Mal called out to me as I walked toward the studio door. “Do me a favour and come try out for my cabaret company next time I hold auditions.” The idea was like an ember sparking something small but powerful in my chest.
I left Mal’s studio knowing what I had to do.
Unfortunately, it involved apologizing to Ciaran for my rash behaviour.
While I didn’t think I could explain the way that singing left me like a raw nerve, I could say sorry for storming out on them.
For acting like a petulant child even as I demanded not to be treated as such.
As I ascended the ladder to Ciaran’s apartment, my stomach was full of something trapped, trying to fly out.
Maybe a moth. Or several. The feeling of butterflies was supposed to be pleasant.
This was just torture. What if now that he’d seen me have a temper tantrum, he’d changed his mind about me?
There would be no more hands on my back during cards.
No more songs that seemed to be about me.
No more midnight swims in our underwear.
Could we just be roommates. Acquaintances?
There was too much chemistry for that. Too much left unsaid.
My thoughts darkened as I entered the apartment.
Ciaran stood over the small table where we’d played cards. He was poring over what seemed to be blueprints. He hadn’t turned around yet. I took a deep, steadying breath and opened my mouth to apologize.
“Hey. Come here.” Ciaran lifted his right hand, beckoning me to come over without so much as glancing behind.
“Ciaran, I’m—” I started to make my apology, but he interrupted me with his waving hand.
“Come here first. I need your help.”
I furrowed my brow. I couldn’t figure out what was going on. Did he even remember how I’d stormed out of the rehearsal space a few hours ago? Did I imagine the tension of the fight that had been brewing?
“I’m trying to figure out how they’re going to lay out the atrium as a party space for this masquerade. The opera house is enormous. I only have the regular blueprints, but I have no access to their party plans. What do you think? You know the place better than I do.”
Ciaran was acting as if nothing happened.
“Um… I’m sorry, I’m confused. Are you including me in this plan?” I peered around him. He was looking at the blueprints for the opera house. I didn’t know where he had even gotten them, but there they were, spread out on our tiny table.
“Of course.” Ciaran leaned in closer to the blueprints. “Fuck. I don’t understand any of this. We need to recruit someone who understands this shit.”
“I thought you were going to bring this to council?” I asked.
Ciaran just waved a hand. “I am the council.”
“Are we going to talk about what happened before? How I just stormed out on you?” I asked with some trepidation.
“What is there to talk about? You were upset. You seem like you’re better now?” Ciaran shrugged as if this was obvious.
“I’m sorry.” I stood my ground. “I’ll apologize to Rory as well. I should have stayed and talked about it. Singing gets me emotional, which is not an excuse, but I’m just… I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to apologize for.” Ciaran smiled. “We do have a lot of work to do. We’re going to do your plan. And it’s going to be dangerous. And possibly very foolish. But that’s why I like it.” He winked.
“And you’ll let me come with you?”
“Of course.” Ciaran looked confused. “Oh. I guess you don’t know Rory very well yet.
He always says ‘no we can’t, it’s too dangerous’ first before he gives in to the plan.
It’s his job to make sure we think things through.
I mean… Fionn is his brother, so you can see how that dynamic came about. ” Ciaran laughed to himself.
“Oh. Okay. Well then… alright.” I was still shocked at how Ciaran was reacting to my temper. “And you’re not… upset with me?”
“No. Should I be?” Ciaran narrowed his eyes, his mouth turned down.
“No. I guess not. And you don’t want me to leave?” I felt ice in my veins when I said it.
“Do you want to leave?” Ciaran tilted his head to the side, looking me over for the first time since I’d come back.
“No. I don’t.” I said it so softly.
“Then it’s settled. No one is upset, and no one is leaving.” Ciaran closed the distance between us and held a hand to my cheek. He wiped a tear that I hadn’t felt escape the corner of my eye. His warm finger traced a path down my cheek, and his eyes burned with intensity.
“I guess it’s settled.” I stepped in closer, looking at the blueprints on the table before us.
They really made no sense. Images and symbols were all layered over top of each other in a confusing scrawl.
They were about as legible as magical runes to me.
But where the rooms were laid out was obvious.
The massive open area of the atrium, with the huge sweeping staircase in the centre, leading up to the mezzanine level.
The labyrinthine corridors of the backstage area, with various practice rooms and change rooms. There were even more passageways than I ever knew existed.
I located Carlotta’s dressing room and noticed that the passageway behind the mirror was not documented on the blueprints. Nor were the stairs, the canals, or the Cistern. Good. They were probably unknown to anyone other than those in Ciaran’s innermost circle.
“So, what’s the plan?” I leaned in to get a better look at the details of the opera house. Ciaran grinned.