Echoes

by Chambers, V. J.

  It gave Owen great satisfaction. He was happy, not only because there were more people here than before, but because he felt as if things were truly starting to happen.

  Surveying them, he said, “We need to be looking for ways to undermine the council.”

  One of the muses spoke up. “Undermine the council? What purpose would that serve?”

  “Well, most muses rely on the council,” Owen said. “If we tell them that the council isn’t good at ruling, they won’t believe us. They need concrete evidence. So, we need to think of ways that we can show them that the council is unstable and dangerous.”

  Everyone looked thoughtful. None of them objected.

  Owen raised his eyebrows. “Does anyone disagree?”

  “Are we allowed?” said one of the muses.

  Owen laughed. “Of course you’re allowed. I brought you all here so that we could do this together. If I wanted to do this on my own, I wouldn’t have bothered with telling you about it. As you know, the last time that I tried to take over Helicon on my own, it went badly. I don’t want to do it that way this time. I was young, I was misguided, and I was under a very dangerous spell. Now, I am more mature and less selfish. This is about Helicon. This is not about me. It’s a long process. It’s not going to happen overnight. If I had all the answers, I would have come to you with them. But I don’t have the answers. That’s why I’m asking you to think about this. The next time we meet, that is when I want you to give me your ideas of how we undermine the council. So until then, go off think, observe, and formulate some ideas.”

  Owen could see from the looks on their faces, that they were taking what he had just said quite well. What was more, he actually had to admit that he meant most of it. Manipulating people with the truth was much better than manipulating them with lies. It worked out so much better.

  After the meeting, Owen headed back into the tweens and rebels enclave. He checked Nora’s tent, but she was still asleep.

  Then he noticed Nora’s friends, Sawyer, Maddie, Agler, and Lute, all coming back into the enclave. They had apparently been in the woods to the north.

  Owen wondered what they had all been doing together up there.

  Sawyer locked eyes with him.

  Owen couldn’t help but smirking at him. He really didn’t like that guy. And not because he wore skirts. Owen wasn’t a bigot. Guys could wear skirts if they wanted. No, it was Sawyer’s self-righteousness that made Owen annoyed. And, maybe he had to admit, he was a little bit jealous about the connection that Nora and Sawyer had.

  Of course, Nora and Sawyer weren’t spending any time together anymore. Owen supposed he should be grateful for small favors.

  Sawyer stalked over.

  Owen could have ducked into his tent, but he didn’t. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

  Sawyer planted his feet on the ground. “You’re up awfully early.”

  Owen shrugged. “Am I?”

  “What are you doing?” Sawyer said. “I saw you come out of the woods.”

  Owen arched an eyebrow. “What do you care what I was doing? And besides, I could ask you the same question. I saw you guys coming out of the woods. What were you doing?”

  Sawyer’s nostrils flared. “I’m going to find out what you’re up to, Owen. Trust me on that.”

  Owen laughed a little. He wasn’t concerned. Maybe Sawyer would find out. By the time that he did, Owen would’ve gotten enough people on his side and made enough plans, that it wouldn’t matter. Owen was going to take over Helicon, and no one was going to stop him.

  * * *

  Lute spent the next few weeks avoiding Sawyer, because all Sawyer seemed to be able to talk about was how angry he was with himself for going to see Ned Willow instead of watching Owen. To Sawyer’s way of thinking, all of them had all gone off up into the woods, leaving Owen unattended, and that was the exact time that Owen had picked to do something shifty.

  Not that Sawyer had any proof that Owen had done anything shifty. He was convinced of it, however. Just like he was convinced of everything this year, even if he didn’t have any proof. Sawyer was angry with himself. He was angry at everyone else.

  And he was doubly annoyed, because as he saw it, they hadn’t gotten any good information from Ned Willow. He regarded the entire thing is a waste of time considering that Ned Willow had admitted that the story might not actually be the truth.

  Lute had tried to talk to him a few times about some alternate interpretations of what it was that Ned had said. Lute thought that Ned was simply trying to explain that the truth was not so cut and dry. It wasn’t easy to say, “This is the truth,” or “This is false.” Things were perhaps a little bit more gray. A story was a story, whether it actually happened or not.

  Agler had gotten in on this too and started bringing up various philosophical stuff, and that was when Sawyer had tuned them all out.

  Anyway, the upshot of all of this was that Sawyer was not particularly fun to be around for the next couple weeks.

  Because of this, Lute decided that he would volunteer to do music for the Science and Math Gala.

  The Science and Math Gala was a festival in the middle of the summer, and Lute always thought of it as kind of second fiddle to the rest of the muse festivals throughout the year.

  For one thing, most of it took place during the afternoon, over at the science and math enclaves. There were a lot of exhibits, a lot of strange-smelling experiments, a lot of math people spouting confusing theorems full of numbers and letters. Considering that Lute wasn’t interested in any of that stuff, he generally skipped the afternoon thing.

  In fact, a lot of the muses did that. However, there was generally a good turnout in the evening, when it was a typical party. There was music, drinks, and food. And even if the science and math people were often the corner chattering to each other about whatever it was that they thought was interesting about their chosen creative outlet, generally it was easy enough to get drunk enough that no one made any sense, anyway.

  However, they needed music muses to play for the festivities. Lute decided that since getting ready for the Summer Solstice had worked out so well in helping him deal with Sawyer, getting away and doing something else would be his best option again. So, he spent the next few weeks as far away from Sawyer he possibly could be.

  When he wasn’t busy, he did reflect that it was possible that having a relationship with someone shouldn’t hinge on the idea of trying to stay away from that person all of the time. But that thought was an uncomfortable one, and he shoved it aside.

  Too much was on the line for him to simply give up on his relationship with Sawyer. Too many people had ridiculed him, claimed that he didn’t know what he was doing, or that his attraction to Sawyer was “just a phase.” He wasn’t giving those people the satisfaction of giving up too easily. No, he was going to stick this out. Things would get better.

  One night, he came back to the tent, and Sawyer was sitting on the floor with paper spread out all around him. He was writing down various different theories. They all centered on what happened to Nora, what happened to Owen, what was going on in Helicon.

  Lute took one look at his boyfriend, who looked like a raving lunatic, and decided he didn’t want to be there.

  He went back to the music enclave. Somebody would probably be willing to pick up an instrument and jam with him. He was sick of doing anything else. He just wanted to dive into the music and escape.

  But he hadn’t brought anything with him. There was a cluster of tents that housed various instruments the muses could just take as they wanted. Most music muses owned their own instruments, but the common instruments could be used if a muse wanted to try out something new for a few hours. Lute ducked into the one containing guitars, and he heard voices.

  He froze, sticking to the shadows.

  The voices were clearer now.

  “… just think you’re so close,” a voice was saying. “I know you’re exhausted, but if you could just
give it a little longer.”

  Lute tiptoed forward, peering past a row of guitars that was hanging from the middle of the tents.

  He saw Nora standing there talking to Phoebe.

  This was strange. He wondered what they were talking about.

  “I don’t know,” Nora said. “It’s not so much that I’m exhausted.”

  “You said that it was wearing on you,” Phoebe said.

  “And it is,” Nora said. “But it’s not because I’m tired. It’s because… it takes something out of me. You don’t realize what it’s like.”

  “Last year, you told me you wanted to do this,” Phoebe said.

  “I don’t think I was specific,” Nora said. “I didn’t come to you with this all planned out. It was your idea.”

  Phoebe shook her head. “That’s not how I remember it. It seems to me that you had a vastly different interpretation of the things I told you to do—”

  “Let’s not argue about it.” Nora sighed.

  “You’re right,” Phoebe said. “And I want you to understand I’m grateful. We are all grateful, or we all would be if anyone knew what you were doing. But I just don’t think we can stop now.”

  Nora rubbed her forehead. “The longer that it goes on, the farther I have to go with him.”

  “I know that. I know how tough that must be.”

  “How far do you want me to go?”

  “As far as you have to.”

  Lute pushed forward, and he accidentally jostled one of the guitars. There was a twang from one of the strings.

  Phoebe and Nora looked around, startled.

  “Is someone there?” Phoebe said.

  “I told you it was a bad idea to meet in the music enclave,” Nora said.

  Phoebe was pushing aside the hanging guitars, coming for Lute.

  Lute backed out of the tent. He didn’t want to be discovered. For some reason, he didn’t think what Nora and Phoebe had been talking about was meant for his ears. They were up to something secretive.

  He needed to talk to Sawyer about it.

  But not yet. Not tonight anyway. He didn’t think he could bear going back there and trying to explain it to Sawyer.

  Besides, Sawyer was so deeply immersed in his theories that Lute wasn’t sure he could take the news well.

  No, he would wait until Sawyer was well rested. Well rested, and in a good mood. And then… and then it would be a good time to explain it.

  Whatever it meant.

  * * *

  Several times at the Science and Math Gala, Owen had to turn aside one of the muses from his group of loyals who wanted to chat with him about an idea for destabilizing the council. He didn’t want to talk about those things out in the open, for one thing. And for another thing, Nora was around, and he didn’t want to talk about it in front of her.

  The third time it happened, it was late evening, and they were watching the tail end of some exhibit in the science enclave that involved a great deal of smoke. Steam, maybe. Whatever.

  Nora looked at him after he had hushed the muse up and said, “What’s going on with that?”

  He shook his head at her. “Nothing.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “It didn’t seem like nothing. People keep trying to talk to you, Owen. What do they want talk to you about?”

  “Really, it’s nothing,” he said.

  “It doesn’t seem like nothing,” she insisted. “No one talks to you at all besides me. At least not usually.”

  “I’m making new friends,” he said.

  She gave him a hurt look. “Why won’t you share things with me? You know you can tell me anything.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t tell you anything. There are things that you wouldn’t understand.” Why he was even getting that far into it, he wasn’t sure. Saying that to her admitted that there was something to tell her.

  “You don’t think I would understand? Owen, if anyone understands you, it’s me.”

  He looked at her. Maybe she was right. After all, hadn’t he been thinking recently about how they were perfectly matched? How she was his equal? He just wished he could know for sure if it was a good idea to talk to her.

  “I’m going to get us some drinks,” Nora said.

  Well, that was typical. Nora was always getting him a drink.

  And when she came back, he was convinced that she’d found possibly the strongest drink that was made in Helicon. He was fairly certain that the Lights Out Cocktail was what went out on an inspiration thread and inspired the Long Island Iced Tea. It was sweet, it was delicious, and it was just a mixture of a bunch of very potent liquors. He arched an eyebrow at her. “You trying to get me drunk?”

  She just laughed.

  And anyway, it wasn’t as if she wasn’t already downing her drink. Her glass was half empty. At least they would be wasted together.

  He had a funny thought, worrying for a second that she was dumping her drink out when he wasn’t looking, so that she was staying sober and he was getting drunker… Why was he being paranoid like that? He knew Nora. She cared about him. She had gotten him back into Helicon, hadn’t she? She’d defended him to Phoebe, she’d stopped spending time with all of her friends, and she now followed him around like a puppy dog. He couldn’t really be suspicious of her, could he?

  No, that didn’t make sense.

  He drank. And then the world began to seem a little hazy and pleasant.

  Before he knew what was happening, Nora was dragging him back to the tweens and rebels enclave. She was stumbling and laughing. He was stumbling too. They were both slurring their words. Everything seemed amazingly hilarious.

  And then they were in her tent, and she was kissing him again.

  The kissing. She was always doing this, and it was hard, because he had to stop it, because going any further terrified him.

  But now her hands were all over him, inside his shirt, underneath the clasp of his pants. He was having a hard time remembering why he was supposed to stop her again.

  Her mouth at his ear. “You said we’d feel it when it was the right time. Don’t you feel it?”

  And so he didn’t stop her. Because he had said that they would do it. And putting it off was the coward’s way. He wasn’t a coward. He was Owen Asher.

  Nora’s body was soft and small and sweet.

  He had known, somehow he’d always known, that the two of them would do this. Somehow he’d always known that it was right, that it was meant to be. It wasn’t just that obsessive spell that his mother had put on him. There was something real about the connection that he felt with Nora. About the connection she felt with him.

  And it was okay. It was okay, for once, to feel a little vulnerable. It was always so exhausting trying to keep up a front, trying to be something that he wasn’t, trying to convince everyone that he was normal. He wasn’t afraid that Nora would reject him, or that she would go away. So he just let it all drop away. He peeled off all the layers of artifice, and he was nothing but himself, as stark and relentless as he was.

  She opened for him, accepted him, surrounded him. No matter what he was, she took him. He let go, gave in to her.

  He rocked against her again and again until he found his dark release, his pleasure like tumbling into an abyss.

  He gasped into her eyebrow. Moaned against her sweet, sweet skin.

  And he was drunk, and the room was spinning a little bit, and he didn’t know if he’d done it right or if he done it well, and he felt afraid and weak and unsure.

  And her voice was at his ear, whispering, “What are you planning, Owen? Tell me. You can trust me.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Lute kept waiting for the right time to talk to Sawyer about what he’d overheard between Nora and Phoebe. Lute wasn’t sure what he thought about it, but the more and more than he did think about it, the more and more he realized that something was going on. But it wasn’t the kind of thing that Sawyer had thought was going on.

  No, Phoebe and
Nora weren’t speaking to each other as if they were under some sort of spell. They were planning something. They were doing something together. Now, it could fit with Sawyer’s theory that they were shape shifters or with Maddie’s theory that something bad had happened to Nora and she had passed that badness on to Phoebe. But Lute didn’t really think so.

  Still, it never seemed like a good time to talk to Sawyer. Sawyer was pretty much in a solidly bad mood all the time. He wasn’t sleeping at all. Sometimes he didn’t even come and lay down in the hammock with Lute. He would just go for walks through Helicon at night. He wasn’t bathing, and he smelled terrible.

  Sawyer was losing it.

  And that was part of the reason why Lute needed to tell Sawyer this. Because it was the first piece of actual evidence that they really had.

  But Lute just kept running from the entire situation. He kept going to the music enclave, practicing for the Science and Math Gala, and then just staying there later, playing into the night.

  Finally, it was the day of the Science and Math Gala. Lute did his bit, playing for the other muses. He didn’t see Sawyer at all, but he didn’t expect to. Sawyer was beyond festivals and fun at this point. He’d gone off the deep end.

  So Lute was completely and utterly flabbergasted when Sawyer showed up at the end of Lute’s set that night. Sawyer had showered, and he was dressed in a billowy top over tight breeches. He looked beautiful. He was holding two drinks, and when Lute finished, Sawyer held out one to him.

  Lute grinned, accepting that drink. “You look good.”

  Sawyer laughed a little. “I looked in the mirror earlier, and I realized I was a little bit scary.”

  “Well, I didn’t want to say anything…”

  “I know you’ve been practicing for this a lot,” Sawyer said. “You might think that I don’t pay any attention to what’s going on with you, but I do.” Sawyer reached out and tucked a strand of Lute’s hair behind Lute’s ear. “You want to come back to the tweens and rebels enclave with me? Come back to my tent?”