Last Light
When Vex had first taken the stage, Rhalyf had felt an overwhelming sense of panic. It was as if his veins were fizzing with anxiety. He couldn’t have said exactly what he feared, but the fact that it was unprecedented for the Night King to be up on a stage was not an overstatement.
And what was unexpected was dangerous. And there was nothing and no one more dangerous than Vex.
He’d met Finley’s gaze at the table silently before the two of them had risen as one and hurried over to Aquilan and Declan.
The fact that even Finley–arguably, Vex’s greatest fan–had confirmed that something momentous, if nothing else, was happening had made his unfurling anxiety seem quite reasonable.
He’d felt his sister’s gaze upon him as they had moved.
A glance at her handsome face showed she mirrored his shock and unease.
But Aquilan had a point when he had asked: what could they do?
If Vex wished to play the electric guitar and be a rockstar, what could they do?
Drag him off the stage? No. Beg him not to play?
Yes, but that wouldn’t work. It might just egg on his mercurial uncle.
Prepare to defend against whatever magical assault he might be about to unleash?
That was the only potential course. So as the songs continued on and people were dancing and laughing, Rhalyf wove magic in ever increasing tight weaves around himself.
These were probably the best weaves he’d ever done.
But it wouldn’t be enough.
Not even if he, Haera, Aquilan and Declan went up against Vex.
It simply wouldn’t be enough, but maybe it would buy time for people to escape. But as the Sun had long gone down, the area outside of Hope would likely be just as dangerous as hungry creatures roamed.
I’ve gone soft, he chastised himself. What happened to letting people go to their fates if they weren’t strong enough, clever enough, or aware enough to protect themselves? That version of me appears to have died a very quick and painless death somewhere along the way and I didn’t notice.
He realized that before when he was Lord Rhalyf Vaeduzor Lyris Vex, he’d had very little to lose.
His friends? He didn’t really have any. They were people he simply drank with, shared a laugh with, but cared nothing for.
In fact, many of them were simply there because of his family name and generous coin purse.
His lovers? They were but passing fancies.
No one he would risk himself for. Family?
Huh. Family. His uncle, sister, mother and father were all quite capable of taking care of themselves.
Again, no one he would put himself in danger for.
In fact, he had fled without warning his immediate family when he thought his life–and their lives–were likely in danger.
But now?
He felt the line of warmth that radiated from Finley’s body to his right. He knew, without looking, exactly where Finley was at all times and what he was doing. That often involved something with the book and dagger nowadays, but still. He was aware of him at the deepest level.
And every time he did look at Finley, his throat went tight and his heart hammered in his chest not to mention the warmth that pooled between his legs.
He still felt the phantom touches of Finley’s fingers over Lament.
But his desire for Finley was nothing compared to his desire to hear Finley’s voice, see the young man’s expression brighten with the understanding of some concept or hear his brilliant laughter.
He’d never felt that for any of his lovers before.
And it wasn’t just Finley.
Across the table were the Bastons, Finley’s found family after the war.
Gemma was sandwiched between her two parents.
Their arms were around her and each other.
She leaned her head alternatively on her father’s chest and then her mother’s.
Both of her parents gazed down upon her with love in their eyes.
They were listening to the music, moving in their seats, and making jokes to one another.
Michael flirted with his wife endlessly.
But she gave as good as she got. Their hands touched behind their daughter’s back.
He caught Finley looking at them and smiling softly. When Finley caught Rhalyf watching him in one of those moments, he blushed and resolutely looked down at the table. Rhalyf grinned. So though Finley claimed to have no time for love himself, he clearly admired the Bastons’ relationship.
Shouldn’t I be hoping he doesn’t feel that way?
We discussed just being friends with benefits.
And… Here his gaze moved to the end of the table where Aquilan and Declan sat.
The Sun King. His best friend. The one he had lied so deeply to there was no way out.
I don’t know how long I will be able to stay here in any case.
I should hope he simply wants a fleeting encounter or two.
He drew in a deep breath. He had so much to lose now. So much.
“Is singing and music a great part of Kindreth culture?” Finley whispered.
His gaze had been fixed upon Vex as well.
The lights from the stage had reflected in his round glasses so it was hard sometimes to see Finley’s eyes and know what he was thinking.
But even when Rhalyf did catch sight of those big blue orbs, he was unclear what Finley was thinking about.
Finley wasn’t loose with relaxation, but he wasn’t stiff with alarm either.
He was ready for whatever came. Again, excellent instincts for a mage.
“Singing and music? Ah, no, no, that would be an Aravae thing, not a Kindreth thing. We have other species provide entertainment,” he quickly answered, but then he grimaced and amended that answer, “Well, it’s said before we came to the Under Dark that we had a form of magical musical quality.
But I’ve never seen it. Let alone… this. ”
He gestured towards Vex on stage almost helplessly.
How to describe this? Vex had not yet sung.
But his playing was brilliant. Of course, it was.
Vex would be nothing other than perfect.
There was an ever growing group of people at the edge of the stage where he was, reaching up to him, letting out cries of excitement whenever he acknowledged them.
At one point, Vex slid snake-like down onto the ground, kneeling on the very edge of the stage while leaning back as he played the guitar.
That had caused screams and someone–or maybe more than a single person–had tossed their underwear onto the stage.
Vex’s band mates did not seem jealous at all at the attention Vex was receiving, but instead clearly enjoyed the fact that they were associated with the rock god.
And there was some flow-over of affection to them as well, especially when Vex leaned back to back with the big bear-like man and their instruments had sung to the heavens.
“Tell me what the plan is,” Haera said in his ear.
He nearly jumped out of his seat, but managed to hide his surprise at the last moment and smoothed the front of his tunic instead. She’d slithered over without him noticing and now she was at his shoulder. He glanced up at her.
“Plan?” He cocked up his left eyebrow.
She stared at him. “Oh, come now, Rhalyf, don’t play coy with me!”
“I have no plan,” he told her truthfully.
“Yet. But you’re working on something, yes? Or do you know what his plan is?” She, too, gestured towards their gyrating uncle.
That was right. She thought that he and Vex were working together.
“I could ask the same thing of you,” he pointed out. “You show up just as he does. Aren’t you working with him?”
“No,” she shook her head. “Not from lack of trying, but Mother…”
She let that sentence hang. And he knew what she meant.
It was an argument in and of itself. If Haera had, in fact, worked with Vex she would have become their mother’s enemy.
That didn’t mean she wasn’t, in fact, working with their uncle.
She could be playing both sides. Maybe it was a doublecross or triplecross or who knew!
It was exhausting just thinking about it.
“I assure you that I have no information about what this is other than what it seems, which is that he has decided to amuse the locals. Play the entertainer. Join a band. Lose his mind. It’s all possible,” he told her with a tight smile.
She moved so that she was crouched between him and Finley, but her head was just above the table so she could see Vex on stage.
Gemma glanced over curiously at Haera and lifted an eyebrow.
But, thankfully, it was way too loud to actually speak in tones that human ears could hear.
He was using a Whisper spell so that Finley could clearly hear him without them raising their voices at all. He added Haera to the chat.
“Rhalyf mentioned that the Kindreth used to have some magical musical quality. Do you know anything about that, Haera?” Finley asked his sister.
She cocked her head to the side. “Yes, a little. Mother and Father don’t speak of the time before very often, but I remember…
” Here, she grimaced, “there was a lovely maid who had worked for us for ages, Minuvae. I overheard her singing in the garden.” Haera’s expression grew wondrous for a moment.
“Our gardens–no matter where we went–were always spectacular. Far better than anyone else’s.
They bloomed faster, in greater profusion and produced more food.
And I found out why. Minuvae’s singing. It was so beautiful. ”
Finley blinked. “That must be useful considering the Kindreth move often.”
“It was,” she answered. Her head lowered.
“Was?” Finley stirred in his seat.
Haera blinked and refocused. “Oh… Mother heard her singing. I suppose that was my fault. I would creep out to listen and Mother…” Here, she rolled her lips. “Mother must have followed me.”
“And?” Finley turned more to face her.
“Our mother bled her,” Rhalyf said darkly.