“Yeah, we,” Liam scoffed. “We can’t mess this up! Is important t‘our direct survival!”
Reven shut his eyes and forced a slow count of ten before opening them again. For a few brief seconds, he felt a flare of heat at his core, his temper rising, opening a gateway to the Power held within. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from lashing out at the duende thief-taker, opting to leave the room. He said nothing, scooting past Liam in annoyed silence. The idiot followed.
“Don’t play none o’yer depressin’ stuff tonight neither,” Liam said. “They want happy things. Lots o‘dancin’ songs. Impress ‘em. We got the commendation, now we need t‘secure tha’ contract wid Senor Luca.”
“Why do you always have to play such somber music? The point is to entertain them not make them launch themselves off the palace towers.”
The voice that ricocheted across Reven’s mind robbed him of breath. It happened too often, memories flitting across his mind in broken pieces. He shut his eyes tight, shaking himself of the intruding voice in his mind. Liam continued talking, giving instruction, and his version of guidance but Reven ignored him. The memory continued to replay, adding more each time it ran across his mind. A woman spoke, tirsai like he was, given the language she spoke. He felt a connection to her, adulation but annoyance.
“It’s a funeral dirge. It’s supposed to be depressing,” he said. “You taught it to me.”
His voice sounded different though he knew it was his voice. Younger, more naive. The woman chortled, then tousled his hair. By that point, Reven stood motionless, leaning heavily against the hallway wall with one hand pressed into his eye sockets to shove the memory away. He could not see the woman, only hear her, feel her, smell her. Vanilla and honey; soap. Nothing more would surface before the memory and voices started over again from the beginning.
“Rev!”
Reven sucked in air in ragged gasps, unaware that he had not been breathing through the ordeal. He coughed, his head pounding in waves of nauseating vertigo. Liam held him upright rather than the wall. An inexplicable sadness followed, a deep longing and hopeless regret that made his eyes fill with tears. He shut them tightly, feeling the tears slide over his face. Liam continued to pester, to ask if he was all right, if he could hear the duende man. Being able to hear Liam didn’t mean Reven could respond.
It’s all right, Beloved. Let it go.
The new voice made Reven practically fall over, all strength rushing out of him like water from an open spigot. It was the voice that followed him, that spoke to him when he wanted to be alone and taunted him with false concern.
“Go away,” Reven groaned.
I can’t, Beloved. I’ve always been here.
“No, you haven’t!” Reven hollered.
“What is wrong?” Serai said. He flinched at the sound of her voice, oddly ashamed of his current state with her around to see it.
“Dunno,” Liam offered. “Havin’ an episode, seems like. He won’t answer me.”
Oh, how he wanted to. He wanted to answer, to explain, to shout that he was not fine, that he wanted to put a dagger through his ears because maybe, just maybe that would silence all the voices but nothing came out; nothing at all.
Please, Beloved…
Reven shook his head, griping onto something so tightly he was positive he would rip it apart, whatever it was.
“Listen,” Serai soothed. He was aware of her presence nearby, of her cool hands on his temples. The words she spoke were not the Trade Cant but Reven understood them all the same. They helped soothe him, helped him truly listen. “Shh…just listen. Focus here. Let the rest slip away.”
Reven could not fathom how listening to her would work any better than trying to listen to Liam but he made the attempt all the same. She continued to speak, the cool touch of her fingertips on his temples radiating across his skull and down his neck, loosening all the tense muscles until he felt like jelly. His mind emptied itself of all voices, all thoughts, everything. He sat in blessedly perfect silence for half a heartbeat and then jerked back when she snapped her fingers, eyes popping open with a frown.
“What?” he asked, suddenly hazy and confused by his current position on the floor. Serai only smiled at him while Liam’s mouth dropped open.
“You need to be fixed,” Serai said to him, making Reven’s frown deepen.
“Wha’ in all the flyin’ Hells did you do??” Liam crowed.
“Helped,” Serai replied, standing to her full height. She wore no clothes. Again. Reven only groaned.
***
The door slammed behind Reven, Liam’s nagging voice carrying through the reed-wood door. The bard fought the urge to growl in frustration, shutting his eyes until the frustration passed. Only then did he open his eyes allowing them to adjust to the moonlit room before him. A pair of cerulean eyes stared back at him.
“What did he
