Chapter 56
I was one of the last students to audition.
I had an hour to wait backstage until it was my turn, and each second stretched like an eternity—foot tapping nervously, hands trembling, teeth biting nails, heart thumping against my ribs. I wore a long black dress with lace, my silver ribbon tightening my hair into a ponytail.
After a decade of silence, the opera stage would soon be filled with music again, and I was on the verge of tears. What if I freeze? What if I see those skull masks again? What if I fail my only chance? The tremors wracking my body were intensified by the distant strains of Gunther’s piano. Even in his first year, he would surely succeed.
The door groaned open, and Levi’s voice pierced through. “How are you—”
Before he could finish, I flung myself into his arms, squeezing him tight.
“I’m so scared.” My voice quivered. “It feels like I’m about to live my nightmares all over again.”
“Dalia,” he said firmly. “Look at me.”
With his finger, he tilted my head up to him, his touch a chilling contrast to the heat coursing through my veins.
“You waited ten years for this.” I drowned myself in his stormy gaze that captured mine. “You’re strong. This is your revenge.”
I shook my head, the fear tightening its grip on my insides. “Lucie’s not here. Mom’s not here. Everything is wrong.”
“No, look.” He retrieved a violin case from his bag and placed it on the dressing table. “I wanted to give it to you at Christmas. I was waiting for the right moment.”
I furrowed my brow and reached for the case. With trembling hands, I unlatched it, revealing the treasure within. My eyes widened, the pounding of my heart echoing in my ears.
“It’s…”
My fingers grazed the curves of the black violin. A violin made from ancient wood from the Violin Forest. A wood so dark, with a varnish so black, you’d think it was cursed. Cracks had been meticulously repaired, but some scars remained on the bout. The edges of its waist were sharper than other violins. It felt masculine. Tormented. Somber. Despite its bruises, the violin was still the most beautiful and gracious instrument I had ever seen, with a nostalgic scent of resin and old tree sap.
I would recognize that violin anywhere.
The one with the tale of the black swan’s feather that had gifted this violin with its unique, magical sound.
The violin that mended broken hearts.
“The Cigno Nero,” I breathed, my fingers shaking. “But how?”
He had put all the pieces back together, repairing what five years ago had cost us.
“It should be yours. I know what it means to you,” he said as I cradled the instrument to my chest. “You wanted to play for your mother in this opera, and for my mother with the Cigno Nero.”
I crumpled to my knees, holding on to the violin like it was a fractured part of my soul that had been returned to me. “Thank you.”
I closed my eyes, attempting to steady my racing heart. For him, I’d erase the ghosts of our pasts and create our own beautiful world. The applause signaling the end of Gunther’s performance echoed through the walls.
“Play like nobody’s watching.” Levi crouched by my side, his warm breath brushing against my ear right before his lips met the single tear that had trailed down my cheek. “I’ll be there.”
I knew why all this time I’d been obsessed with the Cigno Nero. The violin was just like him. My own dark swan. The quiet, misjudged boy who taught me how to fly with my own wings.
“Thank you for everything. I’m ready now. I’ll be okay, you’ll see,” I said, keeping my eyes shut, afraid that if I opened them, I would be consumed by my emotions. “And Levi, I wanted to tell you that I—”
“You’ll tell me after. This is your moment.”
His footsteps faded into the distance, and I willed myself to regain control from where I was still curled into a ball. I drew strength from the memories that flooded my mind: the hours spent in Lucie’s studio, the wonder with Mom every Christmas at the opera. None of it would be for nothing.
I felt a cold draft, like a silent push urging me to my feet.
I’m ready.
My eyes blinked open, and with a determined push, I swung the heavy door wide. When I stepped into the stony hallway, the sharp echo of my footsteps reverberated off the walls, creating a rhythmic cadence that matched the pounding of my heart. There, I found Gunther, his breaths ragged as he leaned against the wall, a white-knuckled grip on his inhaler. His reddened face betrayed the anxiety that I’d soon face. Our eyes met, exchanging a silent nod.
Taking my place behind the closed red velvet curtain, I couldn’t shake the clammy sweat that coated my palms. The notes of the violinist’s flawless Bach performance hung in the air. She or he was technically perfect. Goose bumps invaded my arms, the smell of dust filling my nostrils. The freezing darkness of the opera enveloped me, seeping into my bones.
The music stopped, replaced by the sharp call of my name. The third-year violinist pushed past the curtain, and she glared at me. But with a creak of the floor under my loafers, I entered the stage.
The floor was fixed, but ladders still leaned against partially completed columns. The judges appeared minuscule at the far end, their stern expressions fixed on me.
“Dalia Mercier, who will perform her own composition, ‘Broken Doll , ’” Mr. Delgado announced.
My gaze lingered on the back door, the opera seeming to close on me. I waited for it to open like in one of my nightmares. I waited for men with skull masks to shatter my dream. No, I could do it. I would face my demons.
I clenched my fists.
Silence.
That silence was suffocating.
Mr. Kravinsk cleared his throat. “When you’re ready.”
At the center of the stage, the harsh spotlight blinded me, casting a stark contrast against the surrounding darkness and the particles of dust hanging in the air. I knew Levi must be lurking somewhere within the shadows, watching.
I drew my bow across the soft strings, and the sound emanating from the Cigno Nero was like nothing I had ever heard before. It was rich and warm, each note ringing out with clarity and depth. I unleashed a torrent of music, driving out the demons that plagued my mind. Every fiber of my being quivered with intensity as I poured my soul into each note, the haunting melody of the Cigno Nero resonating with a dark and searing heat.
I became one with my demons, summoning the ghosts of Los Calaveras one by one.
My fingers danced across the fingerboard, every staccato note, every legato phrase resonating with a life of its own. Lost in the music’s trance, I surrendered control, my body swaying and bending like I was being ripped apart. A few stray notes slipped from my grasp, my vision clouding, even if I dared to open my eyes this time. The specters of masked men couldn’t stifle the music. I fought back, each note erasing their presence one by one.
Mom, I’m talking to you.
Through the music, I imagined running into my mother’s arms on time and shielding her from them. I imagined her beaming smile as she watched me from the heavens like an angel.
Lucie, I hope you can hear me.
I imagined Lucie’s sad face shattering, her lips curling slightly. She’d be at peace with herself, ready to leave the earth to join the heavens at Mom’s side.
Soon, each ghost—Lucie, Mom, Los Calaveras—had disappeared, and only I remained on stage.
With a final, breathless crescendo, I unleashed the last note that echoed in a lasting cry.
I glanced up at the judges. No words of praise or applause to fill the void. Instead, they scribbled notes on their papers.
I fucked up.
They hated it.
I bowed, finally noticing the tears staining my cheeks and the cut on my fingertip, blood seeping out. As I turned to leave, Jared Kravinsk’s voice called out to me.
“Why this composition? Your passage was rapid; you played twelve notes per second, with intricate bowing techniques full of wide leaps and double stops, but…” My skin prickled. As one of the greatest composers of our time, he likely viewed my performance as an insult. “This is a mess. You’re treating your violin roughly, defying all the rules, and injuring yourself.”
I smiled. It was now or never. “I wasn’t aiming for perfection, but to let my music echo so resoundingly in the heavens that it would be felt, piercing souls. Emotions aren’t flawless, so neither should music be.”
He let out a thoughtful hum, and Mr. Delgado motioned for me to leave.
I exited the stage and waited, trapped with the other students in a room for the judges’ verdict. No one was allowed to enter or leave the room, and our nerves wound tight with the weight of our futures hanging in the balance. Each of us yearned for the lead spot or simply a place in the orchestra.
Hours passed before Mr. Delgado finally emerged, drawing a frenzied crowd as he posted the results. I hung back, my heart sinking at the sight of only eight names on the list.
“Aren’t you curious?” Mr. Kravinsk appeared beside me, his dark complexion contrasting with his fiery hair.
“Yes,” I replied, my throat tight. “I hope my interpretation didn’t offend you, sir.”
“Let’s just say it left an impression,” he said, his tone measured. “But truth be told, I wouldn’t have chosen you for my orchestra.”
I gulped, avoiding his gaze. Don’t lose hope.
“However,” he continued, “Mr. Delgado insisted I’d be a fool not to include you. According to him, he hasn’t seen a soulful interpreter like you since, well, himself.” He chuckled. “He referred to you as the next Paganini. To inherit such a compliment, you must be his favorite student.”
“What?” I gasped, my hair standing on end. That didn’t make any sense. Did I hear him correctly?
“I’ll see you soon.” Jared smiled, heading to see another student.
I surged in the direction of the result board, my heart pounding in my chest while Gunther emerged from the throng.
“I’m the second piano!” he shouted, his voice trembling with joy.
“Congratulations!” I hugged him. “Do you know if anyone else from our year made it?”
He nodded, his grin widening. “Yes, one more person.”
Making my way to the results board, I scanned the names. First violin: third-year student. Second violin: another third year. I checked each section of the orchestra until I found my name at the very end.
“Yes!” I cried out.
But there was more. An asterisk was beside my name.
Dalia Mercier: Cadenza.
I’d perform a cadenza. A virtuoso solo passage of my own. It was an honor reserved for the most skilled musicians. And that cadenza was created only for me.
“Oh my god, oh my god!” I leaped forward and bolted toward the exit.
I’d play in Pantheon’s Winter Orchestra!
I weaved through the courtyard alcoves, seeing Mr. Delgado shaking hands with a few students. As soon as he had the chance, he left, wiping his hands with hand sanitizer. I considered catching up with him to thank him, but I stopped in my tracks. He probably wanted to be alone. Instead, I offered a smile from afar, which he didn’t return.
You won’t regret it, sir. I’ll work harder than before.
I approached the gardens, where students either napped under the open sky or engaged in a volleyball game. I spotted my friends gathered on a picnic blanket on the grass and skipped toward them.
Sylas stood tall, a drink in his hand. “Within Pantheon’s halls, I found myself. In those three years, I made some great friendships, found love, and—”
“You’re so cliché.” Levi cut in, leaning nonchalantly against a nearby tree with his friend Cillian, both lurking in the shadows.
“Shut up. He’s talking about me,” retorted Kay, who was busy filming Sylas’s speech with one hand over his heart and lounging on the entire blanket. “My boy got assigned to speak at the graduation ceremony. You’re just jealous.”
Beside him, Miguel was eating most of Yasmine’s strawberries while she focused on crafting a flower crown.
“Dalia!” Sylas waved, causing every eye to shift toward me, except for Cillian’s, who seemed fixated on Yas from the sidelines, as if he was allergic to spring.
My best friend dropped her half-finished crown onto the ground, and I rushed over to her, shouting, “I did it!”
“We know!” She clasped her hands while Miguel protectively cradled the strawberries in his arms. “I’m so proud of you.”
At this moment, Tara approached the blanket, her volleyball cradled under her arm.
Sylas turned to her, a smirk playing on his lips. “Do you know what this means? Unifiers just took first place in the House Cup!”
As subtle as ever, Tara responded by tossing the ball onto his shoulder. “The year is not over.”
Sylas’s grin deepened as he glanced at Levi. “At least you’re not last.”
We all turned to Levi, who couldn’t appear more disinterested with hands tucked in his pocket and shoulders shrugging.
“Our leader didn’t make an effort,” Kay complained, rolling one of his silver rings while Sylas took a seat next to him, draping his arm around his neck. “Are we really going to graduate from Pantheon in last place? After spending two years at the top spot!”
Levi frowned, lurching away from the tree. “Seriously? It’s my fault we’re last?”
Kay and Cillian chimed in simultaneously, “Yes.”
“Well, most likely it’s Dalia’s fault,” Kay added, winking at me. “If you hadn’t made him work for it for months, he’d have put his energy to better use and—”
Levi interrupted the banter with a decisive step forward, his hand closing on mine. He urged me to follow him with a tilt of his head, drawing us aside a few paces for more intimacy. We halted by the courtyard gothic alcoves next to overgrown bushes of dark red dahlias.
I found myself pinned against the wall, his hand firmly planted beside me.
“Congratulations.” His hoarse voice grazed my cheek. “The Cigno Nero and you are a match made in hell. I had goose bumps on my skin.”
Rising onto my tiptoes, I met his gaze, my fingertips brushing against his chest.
“We’re soulmates,” I said, giving him the answer I’d been seeking yesterday in my dorm. “Now are you going to kiss me or—”
His hand cupped the back of my nape, drawing me urgently to him. He probed my mouth open and branded his lips against mine. He sucked the gloss on my lower lip, tugging on it slightly. I’d been craving him for so long, every fiber in me was yearning for his touch, his taste, his feel.
“It was about time!” Kay’s laughter burst forth in a loud shout.
We pivoted, finding Levi’s friends leaning over the courtyard alcoves beside us.
“Seriously?” Levi deadpanned, his stare cutting through their smirks like a knife. “Don’t you guys have a life?”
“Did he tell you he bought a creepy haunted dollhouse as a manor on Pantheon Island?” Cillian said, unsmiling and unblinking.
“What? How did you find out before me?” Kay’s arms crossed over his chest, his glare fixed on Cillian as he shrugged. “I feel betrayed!”
“It’s not haunted,” Levi retorted, then turned his back on them to face me. “Sorry, those assholes ruined one of my surprises.”
“You’re cute.” I smiled, the butterflies in my belly definitely fluttering. He’d bought a house so he’d be near me next year.
“Cute? Is she blind or something?” Kay chuckled. “I’m sorry, but Levi isn’t cute.”
“Is anyone going to listen to my speech or…?” Sylas said, hands on his hips.
Only a disinterested Tara and Yasmine remained seated to listen, while Kay and Cillian reluctantly returned their attention to Sylas.
“They’re wrong. You’re cute,” I insisted as I wrapped my arms around Levi’s neck. “But you have to tell me more about this haunted house. Knowing you, you don’t do things without a plan.”
“I’d be a mediocre Tactician if I didn’t have one.” He brushed a strand of my hair aside and leaned in. “How about I show you instead?”
I beamed. “Yes.”
He locked me with his hard body, his thumb tracing my lips. “But first, I know how much you love promises, and I want to make you one.”
“Let me guess, you’ll always be watching me?”
He let out a low, rumbling chuckle. “Yes, even if I had to tear my own eyes out, all I’d see is you. You’re mine. My future wife. Maybe the mother of my children, if you decide one day that I’m not too fucked up for that.”
Within the depths of his tormented eyes, I saw a glimmer of the broken boy I once knew. “That’s your promise?”
“No, this is: you know you’re sentenced to spend this life and all your others with me, right?” His warm breath lingered tantalizingly close to my lips. “But I promise I’ll never cage you, butterfly. You’ll be free to be who you are.” He tilted my head up to him. “I’ll live for you, and I’ll make sure silence will never be painful to you ever again. Your melody will never stop because I’ll always be here to listen.”