by Lisa McMann
The mansion was a mess, but at least the injured people were all being cared for. Thisbe and the others did what they could to stop the bleeding while Henry and the nurses came around with their magic-infused herbs and medicines and applied them to the cuts.
After an hour, Talon limped out of the hospital ward to help Florence and Lani clean up the entryway. As the bronze giant came toward them, Lani glanced at his feet and did a double take. “Talon! Are you . . . ?” She halted, then stared again, like she couldn’t believe her eyes. “You’re . . . bleeding.”
Dance Party
Talon stopped cold. “What? Where?”
“Your ankle,” said Lani, pointing.
“He can’t be,” said Florence. “He’s made of bronze. He probably just got someone else’s blood on him.”
Talon’s face was troubled, and he quickly turned to look at his ankle. Sure enough, blood was flowing from it and dripping onto the floor. “Oh no,” he muttered. “I’m bleeding. No wonder I feel so poorly.”
“What?” said Florence. “How can that be?”
Talon didn’t act surprised to discover he could bleed, but he seemed more than a little concerned about what appeared to be a small cut. He whirled around and limped toward the hospital ward. “Henry?” he bellowed. Then more urgently: “Henry!”
Henry, looking disheveled but in control, came running as Lani and Florence followed Talon.
“What’s going on?” Florence muttered. “I don’t understand it.”
Talon gave Florence an apologetic glance, then explained. “I’m made of bronze, but I have blood inside me. A single vein runs through my body from my heel to my head. It’s virtually impossible to access it. But if you ever remember me vaguely implying that I have some slight human characteristics, this is what I meant.” He looked at Henry, then lifted his leg for the healer to examine. “Do you have anything that will stop the bleeding somehow and seal the bronze to protect the vein? If we can’t . . . I’ll bleed to death.”
“Talon!” said Florence, clearly shocked by everything that was happening. “I thought you were immortal!”
“Well, almost,” said Talon, sounding anxious. “I just have this one vulnerability. My ankle has a weak spot. It’s always been so. But in all these years I’ve never injured it.”
“Come with me,” said Henry in a low voice. “Hurry.” He helped Talon inside the hospital ward and onto a bed and began rummaging through his many medicines. Then he looked up sharply. “Somebody get Thisbe.”
Florence went to get her from a different part of the hospital ward and brought her back.
“What can I do?” asked Thisbe, eyeing the rivulet of blood flowing from Talon’s ankle.
Henry looked up. “Can you melt metal with your eye sparks?”
Thisbe was taken aback. “I don’t know. I’ve never done it, but I can try.”
“Here,” he said, taking an old piece of a thornament necklace from a seldom-opened drawer. “See if you can melt this gold.” He placed it in a stone bowl and handed it to her, then turned toward Talon.
As Henry began to work on the bronze man using an herb mixture to try to stop him from bleeding to death, Thisbe took the bowl to an unoccupied corner of the ward and stared at the gold thorn in the bowl. She concentrated, remembering the horrible things that the Revinir had done to her, until she became furious. Then she narrowed her eyes and sent fiery sparks flying from them. They hit the gold thorn. Clouds of smoke billowed up. When the air cleared, Thisbe could see that a tiny drop of gold had melted.
“It’s working,” she reported. She went through the process again and again until she held a scorching bowl of liquid gold in her hands. She grabbed a towel and, using it like an oven mitt, brought the steaming bowl over to Henry.
Talon lay quietly, looking ill. Florence held his hand.
“Hang in there with me, Talon,” said Henry. “Do you feel pain?”
“Not really. It doesn’t matter. Do what you must.”
Henry went to work. Talon winced, making the others wonder if he was just trying to be brave.
After a moment, Henry lifted his instruments and looked up. “The vein is closed,” he announced. He picked up the bowl of melted gold. “Now, brace yourself. This might burn a little.” Henry held the giant’s leg steady with one hand and poured the steaming liquid into the slice in his bronze ankle. Steam rose up, and Talon squelched a scream. The gold cooled quickly and solidified, filling the space.
Henry checked it all over, then breathed a sigh of relief. “Your leg is sealed up again. I think it should be okay, but let me know if you feel strange or light-headed.”
Talon opened his eyes, relieved. “It feels better already,” he said.
Once the Talon emergency had passed and he was sitting up, and many of the other injured had been patched up and discharged, the remaining Artiméans realized the band had started playing once more outside. Fifer looked up. “Is the party continuing?” she asked, incredulous.
“I don’t see why not,” said Henry. “People are back out there already. I just need to check a few others before I’ll be going out there myself.”
Talon slid to the edge of the bed and set his feet on the floor, testing his ankle. Then he stood up. “It seems like I’m back to normal,” he said. “Let’s not let a good costume party go to waste.” Looking decidedly more healthy, he took Florence’s hand. “If you’re finished with us, Henry, we’ll be going out to show these youngsters how to dance.”
Henry dismissed them, laughing. “Don’t start the dance competition without me and Thatcher,” he warned.
With a grin, and almost forgetting about how she’d caused all of this in the first place, Fifer led the others out of the mansion and onto the decorated lawn to continue the party.
A Twinge of Something
Sky had planned to avoid the celebration and stay in her room. It was too painful to imagine celebrating in Artimé without Alex. But the epic glass-breaking incident and the chaos that followed had forced her out to see what was going on. She found herself helping others clear away the broken glass and actually feeling hopeful about the camaraderie that always prevailed in Artimé during challenging times. People here were mostly good, and they always stepped up to help. It was an important reminder for Sky . . . and for all of those in Artimé. The magical world united in tough times. It was so reassuring to live in a place like that.
Unfortunately, there were Frieda Stubbs and the dissenters. When the twins and Seth went back outside, they found Sky on the lawn near the dance floor talking earnestly with Aaron and Kaylee. Aaron carried Daniel in the baby carrier, and he bounced gently in place to soothe the boy. Kaylee was beside them. She had a black eye.
Thisbe ran over to Sky to give her a hug and saw the deepening bruise on Kaylee’s face. “What in the world? Kaylee, what happened? Or wait—did Frieda . . . ?”
“You shoulda seen the other guy,” Kaylee quipped.
“What does that mean?” asked Fifer.
“Frieda landed a pretty good left hook. It’s fine.” Kaylee smiled, but her expression was strained. “Is it time to start dancing?”
Seth, Fifer, and Thisbe stared at her. “She actually punched you?” asked Thisbe, incredulous. “And you punched her back? Like, here in Artimé?” For some strange reason this type of brawl seemed impossible to imagine, though they could picture Kaylee valiantly fighting just about anywhere else. But with a sword, not with her fists. And not against a fellow Artiméan.
Kaylee shrugged, then said primly, “I don’t condone fist fighting, children.” Aaron kept his lips pressed tightly together as Kaylee continued. “I only punched her after she landed this one. And, well, she’s gone now, isn’t she?”
Sky looked away and squelched a grin as the band struck up a slow tune. “So, dancing?” she prompted, sensing Kaylee’s discomfort. “Want me to hold Daniel?”
“Don’t you want to dance too?” Aaron asked her.
Sky’s expression froze,
then turned pained. She glanced at Thisbe, who stared back at her.
“I’ll dance with you,” Thisbe whispered. She wasn’t sure what else to say. Alex’s glaring absence had struck them all without warning.
“Oh, Sky. I’m sorry,” Aaron said quietly, touching her shoulder. “I—I said that without thinking. It’s been quite a night so far.”
“It’s okay.” Sky recovered quickly, or at least appeared to. She went on, a decisive tone of voice. “I’d like to hold Daniel while you two dance. You—it seems like you could use . . . some time . . . together.” Her voice cracked, but she smiled bravely and held out her hands to take the child.
Kaylee nodded. “Of course.” She unhooked Daniel from the carrier and handed him to Sky. Aaron took off the carrier and set it on the ground so Sky could use it if she wanted to. Before Aaron could accidentally say something else insensitive, Kaylee grabbed his hand and pulled him to the dance area.
Nearby, Florence and Talon were dancing and gazing into each other’s eyes. Talon seemed good as new.
Sky held Alex’s young nephew close, her eyes shining. She began to sway, dancing with the baby as he pointed to the decorative lights. “S’at?” he asked. “S’at?”
“That’s called a light,” Sky answered.
“S’at?” asked the boy, pointing to another.
“That is also a light,” said Sky. She gave Thisbe a side-eye glance, and the two shared a tearful laugh.
Seth and Fifer looked at each other. Then Fifer pointed with her mask stick to the dance area. “Come on,” she said, and started toward it. Seth followed, while Thisbe stayed with Sky and Daniel.
On the dance floor, Seth turned to face Fifer. The slow music made things feel weird. He glanced around at the other dancers. Hesitantly he put his hands on Fifer’s shoulders like many of the other people were doing with their dance partners.
Fifer froze, arms stiff and straight at her sides. “What are you doing?” she said with a look of disgust. “This isn’t dance class.”
“Sorry,” said Seth, hastily removing his hands, and then, unsure what to do with them, he balled them and stuck them into his pockets. That made it really hard to dance, but he was committed.
Fifer frowned and crossed her arms in front of her. The two swayed side by side, a foot apart, to the music. Not looking at each other. There was nothing more awkward in all the land that day.
Fifer was desperate for the feeling of mortification in the air to dissipate. To help it along, she asked, “So, did you hear what that Frieda woman said about my mother? That she was a pirate?” It couldn’t be true, of course. The woman had also said some pretty horrible things about Aaron and the girls that weren’t true.
“I heard,” said Seth, relaxing a bit. “I hope Kaylee really pounded her.”
Fifer laughed uneasily. “Me too.”
“Don’t tell my mom I said that.”
“I won’t.”
The slow song ended, and they both looked relieved to hear an upbeat one beginning. Seth took his hands out of his pockets and seemed more comfortable. Aaron and Kaylee stayed together, talking earnestly and quietly as if the slow song were still playing. Florence and Talon started dancing faster, doing some swing-type moves that Fifer knew from Claire Morning’s teaching sessions. But there was no way she was going to do those moves with Seth if it wasn’t required for the class. She glanced at Thisbe to see if her sister would be interested in being her partner, but Thisbe was busy with Sky and Daniel, dancing and laughing with them.
It was good to see Sky laughing again. And Thisbe, for that matter. With a start, Fifer realized Thisbe had hardly laughed since they’d found her. Again she noted how much Thisbe had changed during her captivity and as a fugitive. Fifer felt like she barely knew her anymore. A sharp pain speared through Fifer’s chest as she realized that Thisbe had become like a stranger. It was troubling, and the distance between them was growing, not lessening. It felt like an emergency that nobody else could see—as if Fifer alone had to fix it, but she had no idea how to do it.
That Thisbe didn’t seem to think there was any problem at all was probably what hurt the worst. Fifer didn’t like any of it, but she didn’t know what to do about it. She and her identical twin, who used to be practically the same person, didn’t think the same way anymore. She teared up unexpectedly and turned away.
Fifer also felt unsettled about what had just happened with Seth, who had sort of taken Thisbe’s place in her life. He’d just been easier to be around lately. And now that they were home and safe, she could actually care about him again instead of worrying every second that he was going to die. But not if he was going to think she wanted to dance with him like that.
The whole dancing thing made Fifer wonder if she was supposed to like anybody enough to touch their shoulders now that she was thirteen. She definitely hadn’t ever thought about it and didn’t want to. But Thisbe had seemed very close to Rohan. Fifer had caught them gazing into each other’s eyes seriously back before they parted ways, and they’d held hands, too. Fifer didn’t feel that way for anybody in Artimé, least of all Seth. After thinking about it, she concluded that she didn’t have to, either. It was perfectly fine for her to like herself most of all.
Fifer managed a small smile at the thought.
“What are you grinning about?” asked Seth, who was growing bored. After all the planning Fifer had made him help with, this party wasn’t very exciting.
Fifer glanced at him, then turned back to watch Florence and Talon looking deeply in love with each other. “I’m smiling about my own awesomeness,” Fifer said confidently, though she struggled to feel it.
“Oh, great,” Seth said, and rolled his eyes. “Of course you are.” He looked around the lawn and spotted Ibrahim and Clementi. They were both gifted dancers and had studied for the past year with Ms. Morning and Samheed, learning ballet as well as a variety of other styles of dance for theater so far. They were really shaking things up and laughing and enjoying the party. And they weren’t afraid to touch each other, Seth thought wryly. Of course, they were fourteen now, like him.
“See ya.” Seth turned sharply away from Fifer and made his way through the crowd toward Ibrahim and Clementi, leaving Fifer standing alone. The smile faded quickly from her face.
Bittersweet
The night grew late before Henry and Thatcher finished patching up the remaining injured and joined the extravaganza. Many Artiméans had turned in by then, but several couples remained, and the band music turned romantic.
Horribly so, as far as Fifer was concerned. She didn’t understand what was so great about being all lovey-dovey like Aaron and Kaylee. And Thatcher and Henry, and Florence and Talon, and the other couples who were all sweaty and hanging on each other. Whenever Fifer got sweaty, she didn’t like anybody touching her. That just made her more uncomfortable.
She watched Seth dance with Ibrahim and Clementi—or at least he tried to dance, but he wasn’t an actual dance student like Fifer and them, so he wasn’t very good. Despite that, he seemed to be really enjoying himself, and Fifer knew deep down that that was what really mattered. She frowned. Seth didn’t seem like he was planning to return. Maybe she should go over there. She looked around, feeling lost and lonely and tired of her crown falling off on what was supposed to be a very special night. It hadn’t gone anything like she’d planned, and it was hard to come to terms with the disappointment when every time she turned around, somebody with a bandaged head was nearby, reminding her that their injury was her fault.
Thisbe and Sky had grown tired of dancing, and Daniel had fallen asleep, so the three of them rested on the lawn to watch the others. They weren’t laughing now. Instead, with heads bowed together, Thisbe and Sky talked quietly about missing Alex, and about Rohan and Maiven Taveer, and they cried a little too.
“Every time I think I’m getting used to Alex being gone forever,” Sky said, “something happens to remind me of him. It’s like I experience that awful realizati
on of his death all over again. Remember it?”
Thisbe nodded. “It was awful.” Stumbling across Alex’s grave had been a horrible way to discover it.
Fifer wanted to join them, but their intimacy made her hesitate. She knew Thisbe and Sky had grown much closer during their time together. It made Fifer feel a bit left out of that relationship. She turned back toward the band and saw that Fox and Kitten were taking a break from playing in the band and were dancing together, Fox standing upright on his hind legs and Kitten sitting on his front paw, which was outstretched so he could see her clearly.
“Mewmewmew?” Kitten would ask with a sly double blink. Fox would go into a long explanation of something that was likely unrelated to whatever Kitten said. But she purred anyway. Words didn’t matter with them. Fifer thought it was ridiculous yet charming. Love was weird.
In the shadows, Sean and Carina were swaying together and kissing, to Seth’s obvious dismay, and Samheed and Lani were kissing too. Henry rested his head on Thatcher’s chest as Thatcher held him close, and Crow and Scarlet slipped away and started walking along the shore holding hands.
“Everything is so dumb,” Fifer said, dropping her mask to her side in frustration. Her vision for the evening, realistic or not, had showcased her as the center of attention—after all, she’d been the one leading the rescue team home to safety after Alex had died. She’d hoped by this point someone would have thought to honor her for her leadership, temporary as it was. And acknowledge that she was growing up and showing strong skills. She’d even thought people would be congregating around her and showering her with birthday gifts and praise for doing such a good job under horrible circumstances.
But, in reality, she’d been getting looks all night from people who hadn’t appreciated getting glass shards rained on them. To them, Fifer was still an uncontrollably dangerous kid. To top off the evening, now that mostly just friends remained to close down the party, everyone seemed so focused on the special person they were with. Fifer felt awkward approaching any of the couples and small groups. Romantic or not, no one seemed to want to have a deep conversation with Fifer now that she wasn’t leading things anymore. No one was paying any attention to her, especially her soul-mate sister. She searched the lawn one last time, hopping up and down a little to get Seth to notice her. But his back was to her as Clementi showed him how to dip her.
