by Emma Savant
“Not yet,” I said. She leaned in, eyebrows drawn slightly together, and I added, “I didn’t want to worry him. He’s already spent most of his life trying to help me with my career. Now that I’m having some success, I don’t want to ruin it.”
Serena frowned, and I could tell she wanted to say something about that, but the recorder was still running. Instead, she asked more questions about the audience: How did they respond? How long did it take them to stop cheering? Did they feel “normal” at any point during the show, or did I always have the impression of something being wrong? Was this similar in any way to my previous experiences with August? Could I tell her more about what I termed the “golden haze”?
I answered the questions as best I could, trying to be accurate and unemotional, the way I thought a lawyer might like. It wasn’t easy. I felt my voice rising several times when I began to recount my previous experiences with August.
It had been one thing to live these past few months with August creeping into my mind and flashing that dazzling smile at me all the while. It was another now to talk about it.
“When was your first instinct that Mr. Rumpel wasn’t quite what he seemed to be?” Serena said. Her dark eyes were intense; cool as her voice was, I felt the strength of her interest, and it wasn’t all professional.
“I don’t know,” I said. “He’s charming. He’s the most charming person I’ve ever met. I was starstruck for a long time.” I took a deep breath. “I’m still starstruck, to be working with him. He’s the power behind legends.”
“Has he promised to make you a legend?”
“Not in those words,” I said. “But yes, he’s promised he’ll do good things for my career.”
“And do you believe he’s being truthful?”
“Yes,” I said, without hesitation. “That’s what makes it hard to talk. I don’t like what he’s been doing to me. But I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t like what he can do for me.”
Serena clicked off the recorder. The silence hung between the three of us for a long moment.
“He’s not going to be happy that you’ve talked to me,” she said.
“I don’t see why he has to know,” I said.
Serena shrugged with one shoulder. She tapped her long crimson nails against the edge of the table.
“If this goes to the Faerie Court, will you still be willing to testify?”
I’d thought about the question a million times. It still made my stomach flip over.
“Yes,” I said. “It won’t be right away, though, right?”
“Not as right-away as I’d like,” Serena said. “These things require time. And evidence.”
Clarence cleared his throat. “Is there anything I can do to help?” he said. “I have some influence in certain parts of our world.”
“You probably don’t want to get involved,” Serena said.
“I do, actually,” he said. “What Mr. Rumpel is doing is wrong. I don’t intend to stand for it any more than you do.”
“Your influence isn’t a match for his.”
“But Dior’s is?” Clarence said.
I tensed. He looked down at me and added, “I don’t mean that as a criticism. You’re good at what you do. But none of us grabs onto people like August does.”
He was right. This was no time to get defensive. I may have performed at the Orbs game, but most of the power I had in our world was power I had because of August. I could sing and write, but my career hadn’t come to much until my manager had started serving as my megaphone.
That was what had to change.
I had to figure out how to be my own megaphone.
“Fine, you’re in,” Serena said. “With your friends included, that makes—what, five of us against his world? It’s a start.”
Chapter 21
The next step was one I dreaded. I didn’t want to put the weight of this on my dad. I was an adult; I should be able to solve my own problems.
At the same time, he was family, and he should at least know what my problems were.
After the Orbs game, I’d been unable to talk myself into spending any kind of time in my glossy, gilded, August-furnished apartment. It was too creepy. Even if he wasn’t watching me—which seemed unlikely at best—his energy still suffused the building. It wrapped around Mari and Calista and everyone else who worked for him there, except for maybe Starling, who was cooperative enough that he didn’t need to be controlled. I felt August’s warm, golden presence every time I set foot in the lobby, and I couldn’t sleep with that weighing down on me.
“Hey, Dad?” I said.
He didn’t respond for a second. He was glued to his phone, the screen bright with some point-and-shoot game or other. After a second, he looked up.
“What was that, honey?”
“I was thinking I might move back in,” I said. “Like, for real. Especially since I can help with the bills again now.”
I waited for his reaction. He’d let me back, I was sure, but I didn’t know how he’d secretly feel about it. Fortunately he was a faerie, and he’d have a hard time hiding anything from me. He smiled, and relief flooded through me.
“Sure, kiddo,” he said. “If that’s what you want.”
“That’s okay?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I don’t know why you’d want to be here instead of there. If you’re missing your old man I could always move in with you. Beats this place.”
“I like it,” I said. “This feels like home. The other apartment feels like a hotel.”
He nodded and went back to his game.
My words were lies, because they weren’t enough. They’d felt wrong and disjointed as soon as I’d said them, like puzzle pieces that didn’t fit.
I rolled my lips and summoned my charmed lavender lip balm from my purse with my wand. The tube hovered in the air at the tip of my wand for a moment, then dropped into my outstretched palm. I slicked it over my lips while I tried to find the right words for what needed to happen next.
“Dad?” I said.
He looked up again.
“Yeah?”
“I need to talk to you about something,” I said. “It’s kind of a big decision. I don’t want to work with August anymore.”
That got his attention. He lowered the phone and frowned at me. After a few seconds, the screen shut off.
“Why?” he said.
His confusion was my fault. I should have said something earlier. Why was I so dumb?
“I don’t trust him,” I said. “He’s been using magic on my audiences.”
No. Those were was more puzzle-piece lies.
“And me,” I said. “He’s been using magic on me. To control me.”
A lump rose in my throat. It was bad enough to be living my life. Why was it so much harder to talk about it? I swallowed, hard, and made myself take the kind of slow, even breaths that reset me after a demanding song.
“What do you mean, honey?” Dad said. His eyebrows drew together; his lazy mood was gone.
He tried to sit up straighter, sank back into the worn-out chair, and then shoved himself to the edge of the seat. I put my hair up in a ponytail, then took it out again. My lips felt dry despite the balm.
“He’s been telling me what to do,” I said. “Constantly.”
Dad’s forehead relaxed. “He’s your manager, honey,” he said. “And he’s not a manager like me. I’ll bet it’s been pretty demanding getting used to this new pace, huh?”
“No,” I said, loudly. “That’s not what I mean.”
“August just wants the best for you, sweetie,” Dad said. “I know it’s hard to adjust.”
“This isn’t something to adjust to,” I said. “He’s been using magic on me. Without my permission. I’ve told him not to. I’ve told him, multiple times, that I’m not okay with it, but he won’t stop. He’s violating me.”
“Now, that’s a little harsh,” Dad said. “Managers are going to act like managers.”
I sat up straight
. “Excuse me?”
Dad reached out and patted my knee, a familiar, comforting gesture that, this time, made me draw back.
“I know you’re used to calling your own shots, honey,” Dad said. “Your career is taking off faster than you ever dreamed possible, but that comes with extra work. It’s going to take some time to get used to the demands of your success. I know you can do it, sweetheart.”
I stared at him. I ran over my words in my mind, convinced I’d said something wrong or left out the critical piece. But no, there it all was: He’s been using magic on me. He won’t stop. He’s violating me.
Fear and anger and disgust hit me in a sudden, engulfing wave. These were faerie feelings at full faerie strength, and it took me a second of focused breathing to make them subside.
And then I saw it: a thin, shimmering golden haze surrounding my father, obscuring him in a warm, welcoming glow.
My stomach heaved. I felt the blood drain out of my face and rush to my core. My hands and feet started tingling with cold.
“You’re right,” I said. My own voice grated against my ears. “You’re right. I’m just having a hard time adjusting. The Orbs show was exhausting. I’m going to go hang out with some friends and try to relax.”
“Sure, honey,” Dad said. He leaned back in the chair, smiled, and turned his attention back to his phone. He hadn’t noticed how my voice had sounded robotic and cold; he hadn’t noticed the way my face had gone white.
I grabbed my purse and walked slowly out of the apartment, counting my steps and matching them to my breaths.
Carefully, quietly, normally, I closed the door behind me. I cast a quick glamour over my features in case more paparazzi were hiding in the bushes outside.
And the second I was in the hallway of our apartment building, I ran.
I hurtled myself down the stairs and burst out the door and onto the sidewalk. I didn’t know where to go. Clarence’s hotel was too far. I didn’t know where exactly Serena would be now. Sadie was at work.
Briana might be home.
I ran. My purse thudded against my side and people gave me odd looks as I darted between and past them. I saw them out of the corners of my eyes, but I couldn’t stop or care about what anyone thought about me. I just had to run until I was safe, and then I had to figure out how to make my heart stop pounding twice as hard as it should.
One thing at a time.
Briana’s family lived in one of the once-nice Victorian homes that filled Portland’s residential neighborhoods. Her house had been a beautiful building a hundred years ago. Now, the steel blue paint on the siding cracked and peeled, and moss grew on the shingles in large green clumps. The thing was held together mostly by magic these days, and it looked like a sanctuary.
I ran around the back to the cement stairs that led to the basement entrance. I’d barely knocked before Briana threw the door open.
“Come in,” she said before I could speak. “I felt you coming three blocks away. Geez, what’s wrong? Why is your hair blond?”
I shook my head, too out of breath and terrified to talk. She wrapped an arm around me and took me through the rumpus room to her bedroom, which was tucked away near the front of the house with its own bathroom and giant window wells full of growing plants and dim, filtered sunlight.
Older generations could talk all they wanted about Millennials living in their parents’ basements. I could hear footsteps from Briana’s parents or siblings in the house above us, and I couldn’t imagine anything more comforting than having one big, sane, probably-not-brainwashed family all living under one roof. Maybe it would be harder for August to poison six people rather than one.
Of course it wasn’t easier. He’d managed to turn an entire stadium of Glims into emotional puppets.
I wasn’t thinking straight. I dropped onto Briana’s bed and curled up. She put a blanket over me.
After a while of breathing, I peeked out from the edge of the blanket. She sat there, frowning at me, waiting—and none too patiently. Her hands were busy, picking at her fingernails and tapping against one another.
“My dad,” I said. “He’s under August’s spell.”
Briana’s mouth opened. “Oh, shit,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“No, like, shit,” she said, and though I’d heard her the first time, it felt good to hear the words repeated. “How long?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Probably since the Orbs show. Maybe before.”
“Shit,” she said. “Really good job, by the way.”
“Thanks.”
“What the hell, though?”
Her lack of eloquence made my heartbeat finally begin to slow. I sat up.
“He hasn’t gotten to you, has he?” I said.
“Oh, hell no,” she said.
She wouldn’t know whether he had or not, or wouldn’t be able to tell me the truth. I focused, trying to sense anything off about her, but she felt like Briana, and the only gold near her was her nail polish.
“I don’t know what to do,” I said. “I was going to move back in with my dad, but I can’t move in with him like this.” My arms prickled with goosebumps; seeing the thousands of people in the stadium under August’s influence had been bad, but seeing my dad as one of them was so much worse.
“You can move in here,” Briana said immediately. “There’s plenty of room. You can take the couch, or we can put an air mattress in here with me. Problem solved.”
“I can’t put you in danger,” I said. “August barely knows you exist. No offense.”
“None taken.”
“I don’t want to screw that up,” I said. “I want you safe. You and Sadie both. And Clarence. He’s already too involved.”
I couldn’t stomach the thought of another person I cared about turning into one of my manager’s gilded zombies.
I had to run. I had to hide. I had to protect myself until Serena called me to testify, and then I’d just have to pray to every deity out there that the Faerie Court would make him leave me alone.
“Wait, Clarence is involved?” Briana said. “Why? How? Did something happen with you guys?”
Last night in Clarence’s hotel felt like it had happened a hundred years ago, but it still made me smile.
“He’s a really good kisser,” I said.
Bri squealed and bounced on the bed like a kid.
“Oh my god, spill,” she said. “What happened? When? Did you sleep with him? No, you didn’t, you would have said he was good in bed. But he’s a good kisser. Tell me.”
Not even a coming apocalypse could keep Briana from a good boy-kissing story. I was glad. Telling her made me feel normal.
I went into enough detail to let her know she was still one of my best friends in the world and not quite enough detail to make me feel like I’d kissed and told. She oohed and squealed and giggled in all the right places.
“You have a dreamy English prince boyfriend,” she said, and sighed deeply. “Why do some people get all the luck?”
“It’s not all luck,” I said darkly.
Her expression immediately turned back into frowns and a scrunched nose. “I don’t know what to do about the August thing,” she said. “You have to get away from him. There’s got to be some kind of legal, I don’t know, something.”
“Serena’s trying,” I said. “But getting the proof is hard, and making a case that he’s doing anything wrong is harder. It’s not like Glims don’t use their gifts to influence the world, like, all the time. The only real laws against Glims using their magic are laws designed to protect Humdrums. Unless we can prove that his magic is causing real, tangible harm, we’re screwed.”
“It is causing harm,” Briana said.
“It’s not,” I said. “It’s stressing me out, but literally all he’s doing is using his magic to make people like my music more. That’s not a crime. It’s not even something I should be complaining about.”
My mind felt like it was about to wrench itself in two.
Everything on paper was perfect. My career was going great. My manager had the skills needed to rocket me to stardom beyond my wildest dreams. He was taking my talent and spinning it into gold just like he’d promised. And none of that explained the sick feeling in my stomach.
“He’s not doing anything wrong,” I said.
The words were like a brick wall. I couldn’t get past that reality.
“He’s controlling people,” Briana said.
“He influences them,” I said. “It’s not impossible to get out. I did it, with your and Sadie’s help. And he influences them to like music. He influences them to do better at their careers. It’s like being mad at someone for making you a better human being.”
Briana screwed up her face, and I could see her brain working through the same contortions as mine.
“He’s a good manager,” I said.
“There are a lot of good managers out there,” Briana said. “August makes you uncomfortable.”
Dozens of objections and arguments rose up, but I swallowed them back. My brain might be twisting itself up trying to make sense of this, but my heart was clear.
“I love you a bunch,” I said.
“Aw, me too,” she said. “Love you, I mean, not me.”
“You should love you, too. You’re awesome.”
She rolled her eyes and turned a little pink, but the color came with a smile.
“Can you text or mirror Sadie and have her come over here when she gets off?” I said. “I’ll try to get in touch with Clarence and Serena. See if we can all meet tonight. I need to figure out how to escape.”
Her phone was in her hand before I’d finished talking. I texted Serena while the wheels began spinning in my head.
Chapter 22
Dior: Hoping you got my message.
I hit Send. A second later, a silver and gold family crest shimmered into view on my screen, with the message Prince Clarence is currently unavailable in elegant letters below it. The enchanted message faded away, and I tapped the edges of the phone. My nails clicked impatiently against the pink case.
Clarence had dropped off the face of the planet. He’d warned me this could happen, that sometimes he was called away on family business and had to maintain a level of confidentiality. I didn’t like it, but, as Sadie had reminded me, that was one of the concessions I’d have to make if I was going to date a prince.
