Chapter Fifteen #2
If you play the lute one more time, I will break its neck or yours.
Helen’s and Joyce’s words drown out the music for a dark second.
I stare at the soundless instruments from underneath the weight of the words they filled me with.
So much of Joyce and Helen pressing down on me, making me small.
Never enough of me to stand against them.
Never…Laura’s temple is against my knee.
She tilts her face up to me. One more song before bed, she mouths.
“No,” I whisper.
“No what?” Raph is confused.
Understandably so. He wasn’t there the day my hand in marriage was sold for fortune. He wasn’t there the day that I vowed to never again let anyone trap me, make me feel small, turn me into a tool instead of a whole person.
“You’re wrong. I can keep up.” I glare at him. “And I’m going to show you.”
“Prove it!” he shouts after me with a little cackle.
I’m already weaving across the dance floor. I approach the stage with enough intent that the panpipe player gives me a nod of his goat-horned head. I return the gesture and he steps away. It looks almost like permission.
The thumping of the dancers’ feet rumbles behind me. The deep resonance of the drum is within me. The music drowns out every word Joyce and Helen ever said for a brief and glorious minute while I step onto the stage, pick up the lute, and sling its strap over my shoulder.
“Hello, friend,” I whisper, lightly strumming, soft enough that no one will hear but me. As I suspected, it’s in tune. “Shall we?”
I spin and step forward, falling into the melody, dancing as I play. My foot taps along with the beat as my fingers begin to move instinctively. The other players regard me with excited glances and encouraging smiles. They nod their heads at me; I nod back at them.
Now that it’s being played by a quartet, the music is richer, deeper. I meet the eyes of the fiddler, a woman whose head is shaved to display tattoos similar to what Shaye and Giles have. She grins at me and nods. I nod in reply.
We’re not communicating with words or thoughts or even gestures, really. There’s direction in the music that we hear. Little signposts along the way that say If I play this, you play that. And together, we make music all our own, music that’s made for this moment and will never be heard again.
We turn emotion into song.
Sweat drips down my neck as the tune shifts. The fiddler breaks into a solo, rising to a crescendo, demanding all attention. The rest of us fade until she comes crashing back down in a new melody.
I recognize this, I realize.
There once was a lass with hair so fine,
I saw her dance and said she’s divine.
So I took her down to the mer folk sea,
And said, “Jilly, will you marry me?”
The whole tavern gives a whoop in time. Everyone unites in song for the chorus.
Soon there will be a wedding,
A vow an’ a kiss an’ a proper bedding.
Soon may the Jilly-lass come,
Down by the mer folk sea.
My hands fly across the lute. There are only short breaks between the chorus and verse. Barely a few notes. I’ve always loved this song for that reason. It’s a challenge to play and even harder to sing. And I’m not doing myself any favors by dancing as fast as I am.
Now Jilly and I are a family of three,
We live on down by the mer folk sea.
Jilly went to the shore one day,
And looked the mer folk’s way.
Another whoop before the second chorus.
Oh, no, sweet Jilly girl,
You’ve gone t’ far where the sea ocean whirls,
Jilly was taken away,
For her wishes she’ll have t’ pay.
My hands fly across the strings. I’ve come as far into the song as I know. I glance over to the drummer. He looks my way. The other man and woman do as well. Expectant.
My fingers seize and halt even as I continue to sway.
That voice…the person who led the singing…sick, hot horror crashes over me. It was me. I was the one singing. I wish I could go curl up in a corner and die faster than the song is.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a deep, masculine voice fills the room with song.
But Jilly will be coming back,
I’ll go out when the ocean’s black.
I’ll break ’er bond wit’ the cold, dark sea.
Because the best mer folk is me.
As the tavern whoops a final time, I look to the source of the voice. My fingers continue to play instinctively now that I’m no longer wallowing in the horror of what I’ve done.
I lock eyes with Davien. He’s singing with the rest of them, leading the tavern to the end of the song.
Soon there’s a beach of three.
Jilly girl, child, and me.
Soon we’ll be happy again.
And we’ll live to a hundred an’ ten.
The musicians continue to play but I slip away from the band and put the lute back where I found it.
My face is flushed and I can feel it get redder as I step off the stage to a small amount of applause.
I duck my head with shame, but the encouraging smiles people give me, the pats on the shoulders…
by the time I reach Davien, I’ve a smile of my own.
“You look horribly smug.” His voice sounds upset, but his face hasn’t received that note, because he wears a grin that seems almost impressed.
“I don’t know if smug is the right word.
” I look at the stage, where the band is still playing and people are still dancing and twirling.
I only just finished performing, and I already want to go back.
“I’ve never done anything like that before, and I’m surprised by how good it felt,” I admit to both myself and him.
Davien seems startled by this admission because he promptly changes the topic. “You really shouldn’t be wandering by yourself alone.”
“I thought it was safe in Dreamsong?”
“It is.”
“And Vena told me to go and enjoy the town. That’s what I did.” I shrug. “Besides, I wasn’t completely alone. Had the best guide in all of Dreamsong.”
“About that…” Davien’s voice gets heavier with frustration and he looks over at the half-wall Raph is standing on. Hol and a woman with long black hair and curving ram’s horns are in front of him, and the two are giving Raph a proper scolding.
“Hey.” I push past Davien. “Don’t be mean to him, he was only helping me. I asked him to.”
Hol gives me a very, very tired look. Even though he couldn’t have been talking with Raph for more than a few minutes, he looks as if he’s been having this conversation for hours. “There’s a difference between being mean and imposing discipline.”
I shudder. He sounds just like Joyce.
“Do you know what damage you could’ve done?” the woman snaps at Raph.
“I wasn’t gonna harm her!” Raph insists. “I just wanted to see how long she could dance for.”
“People are not your toys.” The woman grabs him by the ear, tugs on it lightly, and hisses into it, “More than that, she’s human. She breaks far easier than we do.”
“I agreed to his terms willingly,” I say. I can’t stand to see Raph treated this way because of me. I wonder what they’ll do to him. I imagine fae punishments will be even worse than Joyce’s. “I didn’t mind one dance to see the city.”
A heavy hand falls on my shoulder. I look up to see Davien.
“You need to be more careful about the deals you make here,” he says solemnly.
“You agreed to a dance without setting any terms, any limitations. Did you even realize you were dancing up there? Raph could’ve made you dance until you died from exhaustion.
He could’ve made you dance into a river. ”
“But…” My voice quivers slightly. Just when I thought I was safe. “He said he wouldn’t hurt me.”
“He wouldn’t have intentionally. But Felda is right; he didn’t think through how it might affect you. He’s young and foolish.”
“Now,” Hol says to Raph firmly, “you will release her from all deals she made with you.”
“Do I have to?” Raph whines.
“Yes. Now.”
Raph looks at me. He kicks dirt off the wall he’s still standing on. Hands behind his back, looking guilty, he says, “Your debts are paid, all has been gained, nothing is owed, we stand as equals.”
They sound like magic words, so I expect to feel tingling across my body, but I don’t. I feel as normal as I did when I made the deal with him. But if what Davien said is true, I unknowingly gave this little boy immense power over me.
“And apologize to her,” the woman, Felda, says.
“Sorry,” he says, barely managing to look me in the eye.
“All is well,” I say. “And thank you for releasing me from my debts.”
“I really wasn’t going to hurt you,” Raph insists under his breath.
“That’s enough out of you for one day.” Hol picks up the lad and sets him down on the ground.
“I believe you still have business with Vena. You should get to it and not keep her waiting. It’s because of her we have a roof over our heads at all, so take your duties to contribute to Dreamsong more seriously. ”
“Right, right.”
“We’ll see you at home later,” Felda says, her voice softening some. She reaches for Raph. I imagine she’s about to grip the boy with both hands to shake and scold him. But instead, she pulls him to her for a tight hug. “We love you, Raphy.”
“Eww, Mom, there’s people, ugh, love you too,” Raph mumbles. He scampers off, but not before his mother lands a kiss on his forehead.
“We really are so sorry for his actions.” Felda straightens and scratches the back of her head, looking guilty. “He can be a handful at times.”
“I’m not upset,” I remind them. I’m still confused as to what I just witnessed. In an instant, she showed him more affection than Joyce ever showed her own flesh-and-blood daughters.
“Still, as an apology for our son’s behavior, we would like to offer you a seat at our table and extend every measure of hospitality to you both,” Hol says.
“It would be our honor to dine with you.” Felda bows her head toward Davien.
“As it would be ours. Lead on.” Davien motions toward the street, and the couple leads the way to my first meal with the fae in Dreamsong.