Slay

by Kim Curran

  “How do you see?” Milly tripped over a cable and stopped herself from falling by grabbing hold of a mic stand.

  “You don’t!” Tom laughed at Milly’s confused expression. “But we know our way round the stage so well now we don’t need light. See.”

  To prove his point, Tom closed his eyes and walked confidently towards the piano, pulled out the stool and sat down. He opened his eyes again and smiled at Milly. “Come on, sit down.”

  Hesitantly, Milly sat next to Tom. The stool was only just big enough for the two of them. Their bodies were pressed closely together and Milly became acutely aware of the humidity and a bead of sweat trailing down her neck. She wasn’t the only one affected by the heat. Droplets gathered on Tom’s top lip, which he licked away.

  Milly swallowed hard and turned her attention to the piano. It was an electric Yamaha GT20, a world away from the classical pianos she’d played her whole life. She laid her fingers on the keys and let the weight of them play a chord. The sound was amplified through all the speakers spread around the plaza, making it feel like the notes were coming from within her bones. It echoed over and over, the one chord reaching all the way to the back of the arena.

  “Nice, hey?” Tom said as Milly gazed around in wonder.

  “It’s incredible.”

  “Now, I’ve had this riff stuck in my head for days. But I can’t work out what to play next.” Tom’s fingers danced across the keys, picking out a series of notes. They sounded familiar and yet fresh at the same time. He hummed along with the chords and then suddenly stopped. “And I don’t know where to go from there.”

  “Play it for me again,” Milly said.

  As Tom did, Milly stretched her fingers out on the keyboard, gently brushing Tom’s fingers.

  “How about something like this?” She played Tom’s opening melody and then added a series of notes.

  “Nice!” Tom said. “Zek, get in on this.”

  Zek swung his bass guitar over his shoulder and wandered towards the piano, his head tilted as he listened. He started to pluck his guitar strings, the notes layering over what Milly and Tom were playing. Milly looked up and smiled as she heard the snap of the snare drum and the roll of beats: Connor laying down the rhythm.

  “You never know where you’ll hide them,” JD’s clear voice rang out over the PA system.

  Milly twisted in her seat to see JD with the mic in one hand and Niv’s battered notebook in the other.

  Niv stabbed at the page, shaking his head.

  “Oh, right,” JD said. “Find them. Your handwriting is terrible.”

  Niv stuck his tongue out, then plugged his guitar in and started to strum.

  “You never know where you’ll find them, like a jewel waiting in the dark,” JD sang again. “And before you know it, they’ve made their home in your heart.”

  What started out as a couple of chords slowly grew and grew: chords, rhythm, lyrics, all finding their place. The song was about making new friends and knowing they’ll become old friends. Milly had written songs herself, pieces for the piano, things she would hum to herself. She couldn’t really describe what happened when she made one up. It felt as if the music was out there, floating in the air, and she was just discovering it, like her mind was a radio receiver just picking up the notes. But writing with the band, this was something else. If writing songs on her own was like tuning into a signal, this was like catching a wave.

  She felt the hairs on her arms stand on end. Milly let the last chord hang, the notes ringing out and floating up to the blue sky. As the sound faded away, they all knew. They’d just made something great.

  “Wow,” Tom said, looking at her. For a moment they were alone, on the stage and in the world. Just her and Tom and the lingering echo of the song they’d made.

  “You know, maybe, when this is all over, you and I could…”

  “Could what?” Milly said, feeling her heart pound a little faster.

  “Write some more songs together?”

  “Songs. Oh, sure,” Milly said, realizing that was even better than what she thought he’d been about to say.

  “That was deadly!” Connor said, splashing a cymbal as he jumped off his stool and over the drum kit. He slammed both hands down on Milly’s shoulders and shook her, shattering the moment and nearly pulling her off her seat. “Pure deadly.”

  “It was pretty good,” Zek said, slipping off his guitar strap.

  “It was better than pretty good,” Tom said quietly. “We make a good team, Milly.”

  Milly smiled. “We do.”

  I wrote the words for you, Niv signed.

  “Thank you,” Milly said, putting her open palm to her chin and pulling it away, making the sign for gratitude. “They’re beautiful.”

  “You know what? We should play it tonight,” Tom said.

  Connor whooped in agreement while Niv and Zek nodded.

  Then slowly, one by one, they all turned to JD. A dull thud, as he placed the mic back in its holder, echoed through the sound system. Milly couldn’t read JD’s expression. She felt a connection with all of the boys after the moment they’d just shared, but JD could still be so distant.

  The singer turned to her, his head tilted, and again she felt that penetrating stare of his boring into her.

  “Sure,” JD said, the line of his mouth breaking into a bright smile. “Why not?”

  Tom hesitated for a moment, before pulling Milly into a hug. She felt the sandpaper roughness of his stubble against her cheek. Connor suddenly wrapped the two of them up in his arms and before Milly had a chance to move, he pulled them all to the floor with a shout: “Pile on!”

  Milly felt the weight of a third and then fourth body throw themselves onto the huddle and finally JD joined in. It was hot and sweaty and she had Connor’s knee in her ribs and Zek’s armpit in her face. She couldn’t breathe under the weight of them. And yet for some reason, Milly felt if not exactly happy, then something close to it.

  Ten minutes to go before the show. Ten minutes and the crowd was already screaming in anticipation.

  “Te amo, JD! Te amo!”

  JD knew the words for I love you in over seventeen languages. And no matter how many times he heard it, or saw it scrawled on sheets of cardboard and held in tiny, tight hands, he would never get used to it. He knew it wasn’t really him they loved, but rather the idea of him. The boy in the poster on the wall. The boy who sang to them as they fell asleep at night. If they knew the real him – the grumpy, shy kid who didn’t like meeting new people – JD didn’t think they’d feel the same. Not to mention how they’d react if they knew about the demon-hunting stuff.

  But none of that mattered, because tonight, Slay had a show to put on. Adrenaline bubbled in his bloodstream, clutching at his stomach, making his mouth dry. Every time he went out onstage there was always the moment when he thought he would freak out and run offstage. Even as he walked out into the darkness before the blinding lights came on, he was never totally sure that tonight wouldn’t be the night where it all went wrong. Maybe that was part of the reason he felt so euphoric when it was all over: the sheer relief of getting through it. Sometimes he wished they didn’t have to bother with the charade, that they could just stick to fighting demons and forget about the music. It would make life so much simpler. Simpler, he thought, but a lot less fun.

  He picked up his Gibson Hummingbird and slipped his arm through the strap. It had been tuned by the roadies already, but he couldn’t resist a final check himself. He ran his fingers up and down the strings, enjoying the buzzing sigh they made. It was his favourite sound in the world. Maybe he had it the wrong way around. Maybe they should give up the demon-hunting and just stick to the music. But how many more people would die if they did? People like Milly.

  He heard the shuffling of the other boys around him as the crowd quieted in anticipation. As always, Connor walked on first. The fans erupted in whoops and cheers as he took his seat behind the drum kit and started pounding on the
bass drum. The twins strode on next, waving at the now ecstatic audience. They plugged their guitars in and started strumming. Tom was next. The screams were almost deafening as he took his place behind the keyboard and played a few chords. JD took a deep breath and held it, then stepped onstage.

  If the screams had been loud before, they were nothing compared to the noise pouring off the crowd now. It sounded like a jumbo jet taking off.

  JD rested his hand on the mic, looked to the other boys, and nodded.

  “One, two, three, four!” Connor shouted, clashing his sticks together at the same time. On the fourth beat the lights went up and the world exploded in sound.

  They always started with “Home Is Where You Are”, the song that had been their breakout hit. Its upbeat lyrics and irresistible bassline always got the crowd going. JD couldn’t remember how many times he’d sung it now, and yet he never got bored of it. As he and Tom harmonized on the chorus – “Don’t need no roof when I have your smile, don’t need no walls when you’re in my arms” – JD felt all the nerves flow away. They moved onto “While You Sleep” without a break, the sound of the crowd surging again as they recognized the intro. This was JD’s personal favourite, mostly because he got to sit back during the verse and let Tom and then Zek do the singing. True, their voices weren’t as strong as his, but JD thought theirs sounded sweeter. He always saw beauty in the flaws. He was almost sad when it came to an end and it was his turn in the spotlight again.

  He unclipped the mic and walked to the front of the stage. “Hola, Valladolid!”

  The crowd roared in response.

  “Are you having fun? I said, are you having fun!”

  Not everyone would understand his English, but they responded anyway. If there had been a roof, they would have raised it with their voices. He scanned the crowd, drinking in the adoration. He could feel the love pouring off them and into him.

  “Thank you for welcoming us here today. On behalf of Tom…Connor…Niv…Zek…” JD paused after each introduction, allowing each boy to perform a quick solo. “And myself, JD, I thank you from the bottom of our hearts. But now, back to what you all came here for. The music. What shall we play next?” He turned to the other boys as they pretended to discuss what song to play.

  “‘Be My Baby, Baby’?” Tom said, and the crowd cried out in agreement.

  “‘The Road Keeps On Callin’?” Connor suggested to yet more screaming.

  “Nah! It has to be ‘Hit Me With All You Got’!” Zek shouted and the crowd went wild.

  “Hit Me” was the first track the boys had ever recorded. They’d released it on YouTube and that’s where it’d all begun. And yet they’d never played it live before tonight. It was clear the audience were as hungry to hear it as the boys were to play it.

  “Oh, they don’t want to hear that one,” JD said, teasing their fans just a little. Just enough to get them riled up. “Well, if you’re sure?” He grinned and strummed the opening note.

  It was a perfect performance. They broke out into a jam towards the end that had the audience pounding in delight. He even saw Milly dancing away in the wings. The songs along with the minutes blurred into each other and by the time they finished “Blood on My Hands” the stars were shining in the moonless sky. The noise softened a little when they played a cover of the song that had been Connor’s mum’s favourite. Not many of their fans knew the words to sing along – although they picked up the chorus soon enough and were belting it back at them on the third revisit.

  “And now,” JD said as the applause died down, “we have another new song we’d like to play. It’s a song about new friends and how you find them in the strangest of places. And for this, we would like to invite a new friend of ours onto the stage.”

  A hush settled on the crowd as the spotlight picked out a point in the wings. It had taken some work to convince Milly to join them onstage, but Tom had managed it in the end. She’d been standing there just a moment before, ready to come on. Now, she was gone. Maybe she’d chickened out? JD could hardly blame her if so, not with all the screaming fans waiting to judge her. In fact, if the girl had any sense she’d be hiding in the dressing rooms. JD would give her one more chance.

  “Our friend is a little shy, so maybe if you could all give her a warm welcome onstage?”

  The crowd responded with a deafening round of applause. But still the dark spot in the wings remained empty. And then he saw a pair of golden eyes glowing in the darkness.

  And JD knew that Milly wouldn’t be joining them onstage that night. She might, in fact, never be joining them again.

  Milly had been watching the gig from the safety of the wings, a VIP pass around her neck. She’d been backstage at hundreds of her mother’s shows, but this was something else. While her mother’s performances had been met with respectful silence and rewarded with loud applause, fans of the boys had been screaming from the moment the lights went down. And Milly couldn’t blame them – the boys sure knew how to put on a show.

  JD was a totally different person from the moment he walked onstage; all his coldness and spikiness melted away and he positively glowed with happiness. He charmed the crowd with his gentle chat, talking to them like they were up on the stage with him and not squashed between thousands of other fans. It was clear why he was the lead singer – it was hard to take your eyes off him.

  Tom’s transformation was less extreme – he was still the same warm, friendly Tom, but Milly saw how the thrill of the performance overtook him. How it seemed to light him up from within. Niv and Zek too became bigger, better versions of themselves. And Connor, well, watching him drum was the first time Milly saw the boy properly relax. All of that twitching, untamed energy poured out of him and into the drums.

  There was no other word for it. It was magical. Seeing them live was a completely different experience from listening to their album on Tom’s old phone. She couldn’t believe that she would be joining them onstage tonight. Nerves and excitement swirled in her stomach. She wasn’t thinking about the Blade of Shadows or demon gods. For the first time in her life, she was in the moment.

  She found herself singing along with the fans to “Hold On Tight”, and even though she was in the wings, Milly felt part of the crowd. As if they were all one huge family united by their love of this music. The walls of the town shook with their voices. As the boys burst into “Whenever I Close My Eyes”, Milly smiled out at the audience. Mobile phone screens shone in the coming twilight, faces gazed up at the band, lost in complete adoration. But one face in the middle of the crowd wasn’t smiling. One face wasn’t loving the show.

  Zyanya. She was here.

  Milly felt like a great block of ice had slid into her stomach. She’d known it, even if she’d hoped so hard that it wasn’t true; she’d known that Zyanya was still alive. And now the priestess was here for the Blade of Shadows.

  Milly looked across the stage, past the boys, to where Gail stood, the silver case by her feet. Well, Milly thought, Zyanya was going to have to go through her to get it.

  She and the demon priestess locked eyes across the bouncing heads of the audience. Zyanya smiled.

  Milly didn’t think. She didn’t plan. She just ran. She didn’t have a weapon or training. All logic was wiped away by a raw, primal hatred. All she knew was that she had to get to Zyanya.

  A roadie grunted at her as she barged past him, throwing herself down the stairs that would lead out into the pit. She leaped over scaffolding and slid under black curtains until she was standing below the stage, a small barrier and some large men between her and the crowd.

  As everyone else was pushing forward against that barrier, in the vain hope of getting closer to the stage, Milly pushed back the opposite way. Jumping over the barrier, she squirmed and elbowed her way through the mass of bodies, every now and then catching a glimpse of plaited dark hair bound in golden thread. It seemed to be moving further away from the stage, heading for the edge of the crowd. Milly was getting closer, closer
, not caring that she knocked a small girl off her feet as she clambered to get past.

  Finally, she made it to the edge. Bursting through the last row of people, she came face-to-face with the demon possessing her mother’s body.

  “Ah, my child.”

  “I am not your child!” Milly spat. Her fists were curled in balls so tight her nails were cutting into the flesh of her palms. She was going to use those fists to punch and pound. She drew her arm back, ready to let fly as Tom had taught her. A hand with a grip like iron clamped around her wrist, dragging her away from Zyanya. Milly looked up to see a man wearing a black T-shirt stretched across tight muscles. She was sure she recognized him – he’d worked at the opera in Chicago. What was he doing here? He smiled, revealing a row of sharp pointed teeth and Milly understood. Zyanya had turned another human into a demon puppet.

  Milly yanked and twisted her arm, trying to get away, but the demon’s grip only tightened. She whimpered in pain as she heard bones crunch.

  “How nice of you to come to me, Milly,” Zyanya said. “Offering yourself up. I’d call that willing, wouldn’t you?”

  “Willing? But…”

  “Take her,” Zyanya said. “I will join you there once I have the blade.”

  The demon dragged Milly away, wrapping an arm around her stomach and lifting her off her feet. A few people glanced over as Milly called out for help, but they turned away. To them, Milly was a crazed fan being dealt with by security. If only they knew what danger they were in, the danger the world was in. She screamed and screamed, but her warnings were lost in the shouts of the crowd and the music of the band.

  The demon holding her put a thick hand around her throat and squeezed. Lights danced at the edges of her sight until darkness closed all the way in.

  The crowd was still cheering for Milly, but slowly they were becoming aware that something else was going on. Most of them thought it was all part of the show. Slay were known for throwing in a few surprises, after all.