A theater?
Padon gestured to the path between the seats, which ended at the stage. I quirked a brow. If he was hoping I would sing for him, then I would gladly laugh as his stupid ears bled blue. That delicious thought propelled me forward, my feet long since frozen from the icy floors and causing my steps to be jerky. I pulled the quilt around me tighter, wishing I had anything else to wear.
We made it to the silvery stage, where Padon promptly lifted me by my hips and placed me atop it. I whipped around, ready to yell at him, and instead caught sight of him deftly jumping onto the platform as if it were mere inches instead of feet.
Show-off.
“Now, I think you could use something to wear for this.” His gaze raked over me, likely imagining what hideous and provocative piece of clothing he could put on me. The worst part was that he knew I was desperate enough to wear whatever he offered. “I think I have just the thing.”
With a snap of his fingers, my clothing began to wither and tear before suddenly becoming something new. The gray quilt became silver satin, forming a long and billowing dress, the purple beads turning into thin straps that sat on top of my shoulders and then layered down to my mid-bicep. There had to be at least ten of them on either arm. Warmth stole my thoughts, wrapping around my feet and dragging a sigh from my throat. I looked down, seeing that he had given me soft violet slippers.
Surprisingly, the dress covered everything that might be considered private, not even showing my cleavage. His final touch renewed my annoyance though, the way his fingers lingered on my neck as he placed his black cloak around me turning my vision red. My sheath still remained, and I quickly stored my dagger before he got any ideas about confiscating it.
“Perfect, as always. Now, I’m willing to offer you a deal.” He gestured to the heavy velvet curtain, parting the gray fabric to reveal a charcoal-colored pianoforte with a matching bench beneath. The keys were black and silver instead of white, the exposed strings the same color. Even the pedals sparkled silver. “Play for me. Then I’ll send you both back.”
Narrowing my eyes, I leveled a look of suspicion at him. A few seconds passed, and then I fully registered what he said. “Wrath, is he here too? What did you do with him? Where is he? Give him back!”
Every shouted word reverberated off the vaulted ceiling above, creating a cacophony of panic. He said both, but why was Wrath not here then? Was he holding him captive? I could not let another creature be hurt because of me. Every fucking day since Haven was a calculated compilation of moves crafted to prevent more of those I loved dying because of me.
Padon raised both hands, surrendering before the fight even began. Still, I prepared for a battle, ready to kill anyone who stood in my way of finding Wrath. He was going to insult me for at least three days once he found out I forgot about him.
“Your pet is fine. I’m surprised you didn’t automatically assume he was running this place. He quite literally started ordering around my servants and insulting anyone who told him no. He’s very creative.” His hands remained raised as he spoke, a warm—and fine, dashing—smile lifting his lips.
I shook my head, my hair—which was far less straight and silky than it had been at the Temple of the Gods—swishing back and forth. Taking his word for it was not an option. I would need to see how badly depleted my magic was. Had they healed me fully?
I felt fine. Better than fine, really. For the first time since waking up, I acknowledged just how good I truly felt. My head was clearer than ever before, my magic a steady hum inside my chest. My limbs did not ache or crack, and my ears heard perfectly. I was more than simply healthy. This was something other, something done to me.
“I love seeing your mind work. I wonder, does whatever escape you’re plotting in there take into account that I won’t be leaving your side?” Padon questioned, a mocking edge to his tone. He walked forward, quickly closing the space between us. I backed up, desperate to maintain my distance. When my back hit the pianoforte, I knew I was doomed. “Play for me, Asher. That’s all I ask. Let me hear you just this once.”
Our chests met, and his head tilted down, a smirk masking the vulnerability that so clearly hid below. His thoughts radiated off of him like heat waves, pulsing as they met my magic. Thoughts of me playing as he and a youngling that looked nauseatingly similar to me watched on. Padon had an entire future in his mind—one he had dreamed up and was trying to force into reality.
If I did this, was I encouraging those fantasies? Was I allowing him to manipulate me?
But if I refused, would that be even more ridiculous? It would mean risking Wrath, maybe even risking myself, for what was most likely only my pride.
So, with enough rage to burn down the entire planet, I sat down. It had been some time since I played, not really having a moment to do so. But now, it seemed I had nothing but time, unless I pleased the psychotic emperor to my left. The very emperor who was now shoving me to the side to make room for him on the bench. I groaned, trying to channel my anger into the keys.
Mia had taught me that. She said that music was my chance to free everything I was not allowed to feel. Though she often scolded me for my temper, she also seemed to secretly enjoy it at times. In fact, I could recall occasions when we sat side by side on the piano bench in her chambers as I played, just like Padon and I were now. The queen would hum along to whatever ballad I crafted that day, praising me endlessly for my talent when I finished. We would sneak treats into her bed and talk about what I learned in Academy. Then, as I got older, conversations turned into talks of the council and what I thought could be changed. Sometimes, we just held each other and said nothing.
Now, all I could think was that none of it had been true. That she had never loved me at all.
The first note I played was too loud, causing Padon to flinch before he could hide it. I did not care, did not think beyond the silver and black keys in front of me. My fingers took on a life of their own, pouring out all the sorrow I would not let myself feel.
Every memory of Mia’s arms around me was another note. Xavier kissing my forehead became a press of my foot on the pedals. Winona brushing my hair was a slide of my hand. The sound of Pino’s laughter seemed to replace the quick-paced cluster, my fingers aching at the increased speed as the melody darkened.
I was music. I was sorrow. I was death.
Perhaps I was vengeance too.
My heart raced along with the music, tears I refused to let fall blurring my vision. When I pressed down one final time, the last note echoing off the walls, I closed my eyes and said goodbye to the pain.
“Beautiful,” Padon whispered, his head resting in his hand as he leaned against the piano frame.
I growled, sniffling once before standing. Padon followed me, failing to get his arms around me before I jumped off the stage. He scrambled to catch up, my legs carrying me far faster than they normally did. Reminding me that there was something off about my body, my mind, my magic.
“Where are you going?”
“First to Wrath, then home. You promised, remember?” My eyes remained forward, not bothering to check that he was still at my back. Not even his silent feet could hide the way the hair on my arms stood on end when he was near. Though he, like Bellamy, was uncannily good at making his mind disappear.
