by Emma Hamm
Malachi had been strangely silent, and that meant that Lyra could be silent as well. Every time she traveled down the grave into this place, she found more magic. Wolfgang had become a symbol of comfort to her.
He was different now. She realized he had a volatile personality with everyone but her. She had seen him kick a small Goblin away from him without thinking. She had seen him scream at a Hag over and over again for a very small mistake. She had seen him nearly choke a Banshee to death for bumping into Lyra.
Yet, every time she asked him to stop, he had. There was a darker side to him she didn’t think she would ever be able to understand. She had noticed a habit to it. The farther she was away from him or the longer she left him alone, the more likely she was to see some kind of slip.
Lyra tried not to consider how odd that truly was. He didn’t make any sense to her. But if her presence meant that he was a kinder person, then she would be here more. He liked her company anyways.
Every time she visited he would show her something more spectacular than the last time. One was a giant room stacked high with books that would play stories on the ceiling when she opened them. Another, a nursery full of Elfen children with tiny pointed ears. A hidden underground hot spring where the Selkie mothers with their long whiskers took their children to bathe.
She wished today would be like those visits. But there was a purpose now she had to fulfil, and it was not one she was pleased to be doing. Lyra had always known the Five would eventually push hard enough where she would have no choice but to push once more.
The door to his study was firmly shut. Outside the barrier stood Mungus. The ever faithful skeleton was leaning against the wall with his head slightly tilted to the side. If he had eyes, he may have been sleeping.
“Charlie?” Lyra asked quietly.
The skeleton startled. His limbs raised in an odd combination of awkward movements and flying bones.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she quickly said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I need to see Wolfgang.”
Mungus shook his head.
“Charlie.”
Again he shook his head.
Odd, usually her stern voice could do the trick. “Mungus.”
Slowly, the skeleton lowered his head and stepped aside. It didn’t bode well. The last time Wolfgang had set his guard up was when he had been dissecting a particularly nasty kind of insect that had been affected by magic so much it had grown to the size of a watermelon.
Lyra didn’t want to think about that awful memory.
She pushed aside the door as though she owned the place. In a strange way, she felt as though she did. Lyra had become part of this underground world in such a short time. She knew the passages as well as Haven and knew the people enough to remember their children’s names. Time seemed to pass here at a different rate than in the real world.
Wolfgang stood with his back towards her. His hands were braced against his worn table, and most of his chaotic mess had been cleaned. She was startled to see the wood grain in front of him. Lyra had been convinced that the table didn’t exist at all and that it was merely a creation of so many papers piled up.
“There you are.” She closed the door behind her. “I was hoping I would find you.”
“Not now, Lyra.”
His raspy voice always made her shiver. She had decided it wasn’t a smoker’s voice. Nor was it due to some kind of past injury. It was the rumbling sound of magic that ebbed and flowed inside his entire being.
She blinked. Had he just dismissed her? That was a first. It also made the Siren part of her growl.
“I need to talk to you.”
“I said not now.”
Lyra then noticed that he wasn’t wearing his robe. She had become so used to the long trailing fabric that seeing him without a robe felt awkward. As though she had walked in on a private moment. Velvet pants encased legs that were wiry and long. A plain white cotton shirt billowed around his frame though on any normal man it may have been a tight fit. He was tall and yet appeared so fragile at the same time.
“You haven’t been eating,” she murmured.
He sighed, and his shoulders slumped. “No, I have not been eating.”
“Now, I don’t know much about Magicians, but isn’t eating a requirement for life?”
Perhaps sarcasm would startle him out of his strange daze. Yet even her attempt at making a joke didn’t get her a reaction. Lyra placed her hands on her hips and frowned.
“Wolfgang, you could at least turn around when I’m talking to you.” The words felt like déjà vu.
She watched his fingers curl into fists upon the table. She thought perhaps this was his breaking point. This was the moment where he would come to his senses and realize he didn’t actually want a Siren in his life. That she was too much work and far too self-centered for him to be bothered with her.
But he turned around. The billows of his shirt parted down the line of his chest to reveal the damage that was done there. Her eyes trailed along the lines of scars that scooped between the hollows of his ribs. Runes twisted and coiled around his body like snakes trying to strangle him.
The darkest tattoo was a collar that ringed around his throat as black as night. It ended in a V above his collarbone. He must have endured a considerable amount of pain to place that spell upon his body.
“What is it, Lyra?”
She looked into his gaze, into those beloved mismatched eyes that sank so far into his face. Jagged edges of cheekbone and jaw cast shadows as the light touched his flesh.
“We have to talk about the Five,” she began.
“I thought we were done talking about them.”
Lyra twisted her hands and began. “I’m not usually the kind of person that cares about other people’s emotions.”
“I know that.”
“But there are some—”
“Who?” he interrupted her.
“My team. My team is starting to feel as though there may be no prophecy. That perhaps Wren was a fluke. A stroke of luck. I’m starting to feel bad about my own selfishness and that is not an emotion I am used to.”
Their gazes still haunted her. She could remember them as though they were standing in front of her. The dejected way they had reported to the Five with no findings and no luck. Not to mention the way that Aether had stared at Lyra as though she knew there were secrets she was hiding.
She wanted to hoard all of Wolfgang’s time to herself. But even more than that, she didn’t want to put him in harm’s way. Wren had nearly died because of what Malachi had done to her. What would she do if Wolfgang was put in the same position?
“I do not follow the Five’s rules.”
“What if I asked it of you?” Lyra licked her lips. “What if it were me asking? You don’t need to agree to anything, just meet them. Let them know you are alive and that the prophecy is real.”
Wolfgang shook his head. His muscles tensed and coiled before he suddenly pushed himself away from his desk. He strode towards her with that awkward limping gait to pull her towards him as soon as he reached her.
His fingers tangled in her hair. She heard him take a deep breath as he pressed his face against the soft strands wrapped around his fist.
“You could ask anything of me, and I would be your slave.”
The relief she felt in that moment was immeasurable. He would do it. She would fix things and then they would return here, to his home, and she would figure out what it was that had so captivated her about this man.
Red Blood or not, Wolfgang had become part of her. Strange, considering she was a Siren and had never thought herself capable of attachment.
“So you’ll come back with me then?” Her voice was muffled against his shoulder.
“Soon.”
“Now?”
“We have other problems.”
Slowly he pulled away from her. She looked up at him and rewarded him with a soft smile when his thin fingers caressed her cheek. He always lingered when
he touched her. He had once said that the warmth of her skin reminded him what living was supposed to feel like.
Turning on his heel, he gestured to his desk. “Behold. Orders from the great Malachi.”
The air above the table warped as he waved his hand. It parted like water to reveal a letter floating in the air. Red words glowed on the faded parchment.
“What?” she asked.
“Your Malachi has been in touch with me for a few months now.”
“Wolfgang, please tell me you’re not considering…” She couldn’t finish the thought. Lyra didn’t know what she would do if she found out Wolfgang was working for the man who had nearly killed her friend.
He tsked. “You still insist upon thinking the worst of me. No, I am not working with him. But I did want to find out what he was up to.”
“I already told you that; he wants to destroy the world.”
“Yes, we know the end. But we don’t know the middle.”
“You’re speaking in riddles again.” Her brows furrowed in confusion.
“Do try to keep up, Lyra. What I’m saying is that we don’t know how he’s going to get to the end. Only that he wishes to destroy things, with no army? With no means of destruction?”
“The Five have been sending out spies, but they haven’t found anything out.”
Wolfgang shook his head. “Of course they haven’t. He’s much more careful than that.”
“What does he want with you?”
“The same thing he wants from the rest of the Lords. Allegiance. Fealty. A promise of death and in reward we will receive more power.”
Lyra took in a deep breath. “But he can’t do that, right? There’s no way he could offer more power other than maybe a larger territory. And either way, the power will only be for a little while because he wants to kill all of us.”
“The other Lords are not privy to that information.”
“You haven’t told them?”
Wolfgang raised an eyebrow. “Do you believe I speak to them so frequently?”
“Well you all run in the same crowd.”
“That does not make them any more than acquaintances,” he muttered.
“Wolfgang.” She gave him a censoring look. “Did you really not think this was important?”
“Of course it’s important. And yet I am not a man who enters a battle without looking at all the angles.”
He plucked the letter from the air above the table. The parchment crumbled beneath his fingers and turned to ash that fluttered to the ground like snow. Everything around him was always so delicate when he was angry.
There was a small part of her that was thrilled when he showed how much power he held at his fingertips. It was the part of her that was still a frightened child being used as a show animal to entertain men and women. The same creature that had let herself be convinced a contract was a good idea to sign.
That side of her had gotten Lyra into too much trouble. She always let it guide her when she knew what roads it would lead her down. Even now, there was a pit in her stomach that whispered Wolfgang may be a bad idea.
But she couldn’t let him go.
A shaky breath slipped from between her lips as she watched him. “Okay then. You burned the letter. Poetic, but what does it mean?”
“I do not plan on following Malachi’s bidding.”
“Good. So what are you going to do?”
“Protect my people.”
He turned away from her to place his hands once more on his desk. His fists were clenched in anger, and he glared at the corner of the room as though Malachi himself stood there. Lyra did not know what to do for him. The tragic figure before her was not the strong Magician she always imagined him to be.
She was hesitant to speak to him. “Why do you look like you’re thinking that’s an impossible task?”
“I am not myself.”
“Weird thing to say.” She walked closer to him and peered over his shoulder. “You look the same to me.”
“I have weakened myself with meaningless uses of magic and am paying the price.”
She didn’t know if she should touch him. From the angry curve of his shoulders, she doubted it would end well if she tried to do that. In that moment, Lyra realized how rarely she reached out to touch him willingly. Wolfgang was usually the one who made any kind of contact between the two of them.
Was she frightened of him? The thought danced through her mind until she came to her conclusion. As E had said, she would be foolish to not be frightened of him. Because of those thoughts, she backed away from him.
“How can I help you?”
“Leave.”
Her heart thumped hard against her ribs. “Leave? But I don’t want to.”
His fists pounded against the desk. The sound echoed in her ears as he spun and advanced upon her. His hand raised to point at her. The blue light of his power glowed from beneath his skin as it trailed from his palms and into his sleeves. Veins curled between the blackened runes and light pulsed in anger.
“You have distracted me from my purpose.”
Fear and anger coiled in her breast. Like a beast, they combined to unfurl into spite. “Me? I have distracted you? Did you forget that you were the one to ask me to meet you in person? That you were the one who lied and said you were something you are not?”
“You were the one who pursued me.”
“And you let it happen! You brought me down here!”
His thin fingers flexed into claws as his arm snapped forward. He grasped her face in a vise like grip and pulled her towards him again. Fingernails dug into her jaw, but it was the electricity dancing upon her skin that made her swallow.
“How you vex me,” he said as he leaned towards her. “Even now, I am too weak to punish you.”
Her lips trembled as his breath fanned across them. “You couldn’t even if you wanted to.”
The clenching of his hand suggested he may attempt to change her mind. His snarl was anything but human. She worried he despised her now.
But he did not hurt her. That dangerous blue light did not pulse all the more angry. Instead, it slowly died out as he leaned towards her. Time slowed as he ever so gently pressed his mouth to hers.
It was everything a kiss had never been before. She had been kissed hundreds of times. Men had grabbed her passionately. They had clutched her to their chest as though they wanted to become part of her. They had kissed her slow and sweet. None of them were like Wolfgang.
Before their lips even touched, he fed her his breath. She could taste him on her tongue just by the exhale of cherries and wine. In turn, he breathed her in. He did not devour but delicately sipped upon the air she gave him.
Butterfly light, he touched her. A single moment of flesh against flesh. Not an explosion of heat nor a blinding spark. But a gift of gentleness and the softest of whispered endearments.
He did not kiss her. No, the word wasn’t right. This wasn’t a kiss. It was brushing of soul against soul. He shared with her a part of himself no other had laid claim to and left his mark in a delicate swirl around her.
Lyra wasn’t certain she could breathe. Suddenly, she wasn’t herself. Not anymore. Or not just herself. A piece of him now existed inside of her.
It was just a kiss. She had done more with people she had known less but for some reason this one meant something. This was different.
“You taste like poison,” he whispered against her lips. He withdrew from her only to lean forward once more to press his forehead against hers. “What sorcery are you using upon me?”
“I should be asking you that. I’m a Siren. This doesn’t happen to Sirens.”
“I lost my soul a long time ago,” he said quietly. “I did not realize that I would find it again in you.”
She squeezed her eyes shut to prevent the flow of tears that suddenly pricked her eyes. This Red Blood was tearing her apart. She wasn’t the person she remembered. She wasn’t who she was supposed to be with him. She was so muc
h more.
“Don’t put that on me. Please don’t make it seem like I’m your reason to be alive.”
“You are. I wasn’t alive before I met you. I was as dead as Mungus.”
Lyra smiled. “Charlie.”
“Fine then, Charlie. If that is what you wish.”
“I wish you would stop being so hard on yourself. If using magic so frequently is what has made you weaker then stop trying to impress me.”
“I would do anything to see you smile. I am sorry I yelled at you.”
“That was barely an argument, Wolfgang.”
She reached then to place her hands gently upon his wrists. When he froze, she remembered why he was always the one to touch her. He was so skittish that just her softest touch made him uncomfortable. He was too used to being viewed as the anomaly and the monster.
Didn’t he realize he was her monster?
“One last trick,” he said.
The palms against her cheeks began to glow. Butterfly wings tickled the edges of her cheeks and appeared at the edges of her vision. They peered from behind her ears and took flight around them. One became ten. Ten became a hundred. All around them colors and soft wings fluttered in a whirling dervish.
“Oh, Wolfgang,” she said with a sigh. Her hand raised to press his palm more firmly against her cheek. “It’s beautiful.”
His eyes widened in mere moments before his power seemed to grow impossibly and then burst from the two of them. Blue swept in a wave away from them and suddenly everything changed around them. A new scene surrounded her every time she blinked. A meadow. A lake. A busy city street. And all the while more and more butterflies were released into the air.
A burning sensation between her shoulder blades made her frown in confusion. She was no stranger to pain. Such a small thing would not make her flinch, but it was out of place.
Wolfgang wrenched himself away from her and the flickering pictures suddenly disappeared. He was breathing hard as he stared at his hands and then her in shock.
“What was that?” she asked. “I thought you said you were too weak to do big magic?”
