When Stars Are Bright

by Amber R. Duell

  When I step out into the hall, Nik’s lips part. “Wow, Canary. You look like a thousand bucks.”

  “Just a thousand?” Jackie comes up beside me, all smiles, and sweeps me into a tight hug. “I’m sorry I haven’t looked in on you. Things have been busy. Are you okay?”

  “I’m better than I was.” I pat her back, surprised at the quick familiarity. “Thank you for shopping.”

  Nik smirks. “You have good taste, Jackie.”

  She steps back and studies her choices. “I thought this one might bring out the blue in your eyes. Madam Augustine insisted on white for your performance dress; she wants you to shine up on stage.” She shakes her head. “You don’t need a dress for that. There was an amazing dusty rose gown I thought would be perfect, but my hands were tied. I grabbed the other pink dress to compensate. It’ll be a good color on you. I had to guess on the shoe size. Do they fit?”

  “They’re perfect,” I say.

  “It was between those and a black pair. Tan can get dirty easily, but then I thought where would you be going to worry about mud? It’s mostly concrete around here.” She beams. “Black seems too severe for you.”

  Nik grins. “Jackie.”

  “Rambling again,” she cries. “Well, I’m glad everything worked out. They’re waiting for me downstairs to head to the theater. Oh, gosh, you should come down with me. Everyone is dying to meet you. The new girl Madam Augustine has stashed away in Irena’s room. You’re very mysterious, you know.”

  “Um.” Meeting an entire group of people right now… I’m barely wrapping my brain around everything as it is. “We were just on our way somewhere.”

  “Oh.” Her voice rises. “Are you heading to the theater too? Madam Augustine won’t mind if you take another day to yourself. I think she’s expecting it, actually. We rearranged the schedule for tomorrow, so I assumed…”

  “No, you’re right. We’ll start tomorrow,” Nik tells her. “We’re going out for some fresh air and a change of scenery.”

  “Good. Get out of here.” A car horn blasts outside. “I better run. Enjoy yourselves.”

  Nik and I watch her skip down the stairs without moving. When the screen door bangs shut, he points to my feet. “I hope those new shoes are comfortable.”

  “Why?” I follow him downstairs and out onto to the porch. “What are we doing?”

  From the top step, I see Jackie jump in the passenger seat of the red and beige Chrysler waiting in front of the boarding house. The driver, a man with dark skin and a broad nose, waves. I wave back, my hand dropping when a girl with dark hair and puckered lips glares at me from the back seat.

  “Who is that?” I whisper to Nik.

  “Theresa. She’s a real barrel of laughs.” He shakes his head. “Poor Gus. He’ll get an earful now that she’s seen you.”

  I lower my brows and watch the white-wall tires roll around a corner. More trouble is the last thing I want so I don’t ask Nik what he means. Smooth sailing back to Holland is my only goal. To get through this, I need a basic level of civility with everyone. It’s not the first time I’ve gotten that look from other girls and it won’t be the last if Christian forgives me.

  “So, where are we going?” I ask again.

  He heads in the opposite direction of the car and shoves his hands in his pockets. “You’ll see. We’re taking the scenic route so let me know when you need a rest.”

  An hour later, I’m carrying my new shoes across smooth stone. It’s hot against the soles of my feet but it’s still better than pinched toes and blisters. The humidity frizzes my hair and my skin is sticky with sweat. Wherever Nik’s taking me, it’s worth it to be out of the house but we’ve had to rest five times. The walk probably is as lovely as Nik claims, but my eyes find the ground and don’t look up again until we hit a populated area.

  A horn blows behind us and I scan the crowd. Unshaven faces, disheveled hair, and bleak faces bustle by without making eye contact, but no one resembles Walter. My muscles coil anyway, ready to run. A bicycle rings its bell as it zooms around us and I jump, slamming into Nik’s back. He stops at a low stone wall with his arms lifted away from his sides.

  “What do you think?” He fills his lungs with air. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  I shake the sound of the bicycle bell from my ears and follow his gaze. We’re standing at the edge of a river where a small boat sails along the dark water. Small caps of white appear on the surface as it crashes against itself. New York City rises up on the other side with harsh edges to every building. In its own way, there’s beauty, an intimidating splendor about it, but I prefer grass under my feet. Trees, flowers, nature. And quiet. How I wished for a moment of silence.

  All around us, someone hawks their goods or services: ice cream, vegetables, newspaper boys, shoe shiners. Some people wear sandwich boards as they walk along the paved sidewalk. When two horses clop by pulling a car without an engine compartment, I stare openly until a siren wails in the distance.

  I can’t help wondering who the police are after. Is Walter kidnapping someone else? Killing someone? He’s out there somewhere. I look through the crowd again. He could be here. Watching. Waiting. Ready to finish me off for getting him fired and stealing his mother’s act. There’s no doubt in my mind he’ll kill me if he has the chance. A man that kidnaps without remorse will almost certainly kill in cold blood. Especially when his sole reason not to is gone.

  “Sometimes when I stare out across the water, my problems feel smaller,” Nik says. “Like the city somehow makes them insignificant in the grand scheme of things.”

  No view can make my problems go away. It’s just a reminder of where I am, or, more precisely, where I’m not. “How much do you think it costs to book passage on a ship?” I ask quietly. Goosebumps dot my arms. “Did Augustine say anything to you about how long it may take to earn enough?”

  He takes two breaths before swinging one leg over the wall and sitting down. “I don’t know. She doesn’t tell me more than she has to but I suppose it depends on the ship.”

  He’s right. Prices will fluctuate, but there has to be a cheap option. The country is in the middle of a depression so it only makes sense to have some kind of economic choice. A more solid backup plan will put me at ease—it doesn’t matter what the plan is exactly. I’m willing to row myself across the Atlantic if someone gives me the oars.

  “I came here with the hope of a better life,” Nik tells me with an uneasy voice. “My family didn’t have much of one before because of me.” He rolls his shoulders and his eyes grow distant as he looks at the skyline. “Honestly, we moved so much I didn’t mind leaving Europe. I never really put down roots so what was one more change? I came here with my younger sister to find work and a place to live while my mother planned on joining us later.”

  So he’s not alone then. I’m glad. “Will your mother come soon?”

  He shakes his head. “She’s in Norway now. New York is big enough to get lost in… to hide in, which is why we chose it, but things went wrong. While she was waiting for word from us to come, she actually managed to settle for a change.”

  “What went wrong? Why do you need to hide?”

  He inhales deeply. “Those are stories for another time.”

  Also, it isn’t any of my business. I sit down beside him, keeping one eye on the people around us. “Is your sister in the troupe too?”

  “No. Last I heard, she lives in North Carolina.” He throws a pebble into the river. “We lost touch.”

  Without siblings, I can’t pretend to understand how he feels. Especially when he wears such a blank expression. But family is family. “I’m sorry.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  Without waiting for an answer, Nik sprints up to a weathered man in a tattered jacket selling apples for five cents apiece. He’s only a few yards away but my pulse quickens. Alone. I’m alone. Walter can get to me. He can take me again, and I’ll be gone before Nik turns around. All it will take is one shove for me to fa
ll into the river. I’ll hit my head and never resurface. I leap from the wall, backing away from the edge. Spinning with my hands in fists, I pause on every face. He’s here somewhere; I know he is. The sweet smell of chloroform reaches my nose. I see the darkness of the trunk and feel the burn of rope on my wrists.

  “Whoa,” Nik says. “What’s wrong, Canary?”

  I whip around to face him, fighting for air. “He’s...”

  “Sit down.” He shifts both apples to one hand and lowers me back down to the wall. I want to snap that I’m not going to faint a second time, but that requires being able to speak. Also, I’m not entirely sure it’s true. “Hey, breathe. Okay? Just breathe. Walter isn’t here. He can’t hurt you.”

  I shudder.“How do you know?”

  His palm rubs circles against my back, and he stares at into the distance through narrowed eyes. “I won’t let him near you.” His tone is somber, unyielding. “Tell me about home. What’s it like?”

  A pang reverberates in my chest. I want my mother to pull me into her arms and never let me go. To feel her fingers trailing through my hair as I fall asleep and the slightly wet kiss on my forehead before she retires to her own bed. “I live with my mother next to a tulip field.” I press my fingertips against my temples. “Each spring everything smells like them. Inside, outside. You can’t get away from it even if you want to. And, trust me, you don’t want to.”

  “That sounds nice.” He pauses. “Where’s your father?”

  I draw a short breath. It’s strange to have to explain my life when everyone has always known who I am. “When I was about a week old, my mother heard crying behind the house and found me abandoned between rows of red and yellow flowers. She didn’t think I’d make it but here I am.”

  “Here you are.”

  I recognize the look on his face. I’ve gotten it from nearly everyone growing up. Pity. But I don’t need it. I grew up knowing nothing but love from my mother. It never mattered that she didn’t give birth to me. She’s the same as anyone else’s mother. Better, because she’s mine.

  “Anyway.” My voice sounds as worn as I feel. “She never married, so it’s always been the two of us.”

  “You must be close.”

  I raise one shoulder in a shrug. We were before I met Christian but then things changed. “I hate to imagine what she’s going through right now.”

  “You can’t think like that. You’ll drive yourself bonkers.”

  A laugh bubbles out of nowhere. Nothing about this is funny, but I can’t stop. It just keeps pouring out of me. Each note feeds the next. Tumbling together. Blurring. Nik goes still and watches me with his mouth slightly open. He must think I’ve finally snapped. He may be right.

  “Sorry.” I wipe away a tear and try calm myself. “I just imagined what my mother’s going to do to Christian and the look on his face when she does it.”

  “Christian?”

  I gasp for air, finally shoving the hysteria down. “We’ve been together fourteen—no, fifteen months but both our parents are against it. My mother hates him because he’s a wealthy heir and rich boys don’t marry poor girls.” I shake my head. “His family hates me because I’m poor, which actually supports her theory. He’s not like that though. I swear. He even hinted at a proposal on our last date, but I… I think I ruined things.”

  My face tightens. Things were just about to turn around for me. Why did his mother have to react so dramatically to my presence? Why did Walter have to take me? I can’t fix anything from here.

  Nik moves a piece of hair from my face. “Your mother will be so happy to hear you’re okay, she won’t hold anything against you.”

  “You don’t understand,” I whisper. “We had a fight a week before I was taken because I snuck out to a dance. What if she just assumes I left, that Christian and I eloped, and she’s so frustrated that she lets me be gone? It’s possible no one will look for me for weeks. My letter might be the only thing to tip them off.”

  Nik studies me, his head tilted. “I’m no expert, but if your mother cares enough to yell at you for sneaking out, she’ll care enough to look for you the moment she notices you’re gone.”

  I hope he’s right. He sounds right, but maybe I did one thing too many, pushed just a little too much. She might wash her hands of me and move on, happy with one less mouth to feed. What if she won’t forgive me?

  “What about your friends?” he asks. “Won’t they miss you?”

  Heat rushes to my cheeks. “I had to quit school to work. I haven’t had time to see them lately.” Or at all in the last two years. It doesn’t feel right to call them friends at this point.

  “Really? How is your English so advanced?”

  I beam. “Is it? Christian travels abroad a lot so I practiced in case I ever went with him.”

  “He’s lucky to have someone so devoted.” Nik chomps into his apple with a loud crunch and hands me the second one.

  I raise it to my lips. Devoted, yes, but it wasn’t completely selfless. I did it partially so his family would hate me less. What will they think when they find out I sang on stage in a variety show? “Do you think I should’ve turned Augustine down?”

  He pauses mid-chew and swallows while avoiding my gaze. “I think from your perspective, given the circumstances, it was a logical choice. Just don’t be too trusting. Yeah?”

  “Who shouldn’t I trust?” The possibilities are endless. Before the kidnapping, I would’ve laughed him off like I did my mother. Now I know better.“You?”

  He scowls, shaking his head. “I’m one of your safest bets, but you shouldn’t take my word for it. If I don’t earn your trust, it’s not real.”

  “Well, I have to trust someone.” I bite into the apple and juice flies into Nik’s face. He jerks back, and I cover my mouth with a hand. “Sorry.”

  He wipes his nose with his sleeve, smiling. “Nice aim.”

  I laugh along with him. It’s not the same hysterical laughter as before, but a calm, soothing one. A happy one. Whatever Nik’s holding back, I still need a friend right now and being with him feels right. Safe despite how little I know of him. I’ll give him the chance to earn my trust while I wait for Christian if it gives me moments of normalcy like this. Little pockets of sanity.

  “Canary, listen.” Nik pauses and takes a deep breath, his jaw tight. “I don’t know how to talk about this or what to say to make you believe me.”

  “I believe that you’ll help me.”

  “That’s not… No. I mean, yes. I will help you but, you deserve the truth.”

  I tilt my head and wait for him to continue. It’s at least thirty seconds before he whispers, “magic is real.”

  I fly to my feet. “That isn’t funny.”

  “I’m not trying to play a gas. Sit, please.” His voice is resigned, his shoulders hunched as if he were weary of everything, so I sit. “We both have it. Magic, I mean. You are a Symric and Symrics are extremely rare. It’s dangerous for you not to know—both for yourself, as Walter proved, and others.”

  The world bustles around me, but I’m stone. Nik peeks over at me with such a raw look that I know he believes what he’s saying. I start to stand again, oblivious to where I’m going, when he takes my hand. It’s a gentle grip, the look on his face pleading, and that’s the only thing that makes me sit back down.

  “I know how it sounds,” he admits.

  “Do you?”

  “I do.”

  “Prove it,” I challenge, fully away he can’t. “Show me this magic.”

  He pales. “You can’t see either of ours.”

  “Convenient.”

  He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m an Amplifier. Whatever you’re feeling, I can intensify it. That’s why we’re performing together. Your voice will dazzle the audience while your Symric ability will instantly addict anyone who hears, and I’ll be there, making it ten times worse for them. Augustine is risking a lot combining our magic. Addicts are unpredictable and we’re going to create the
worst kind.”

  I narrow my eyes in disbelief. “Do it.”

  “What?”

  “If you want me to believe in fairies and magic, use yours on me.”

  He sighs. “You don’t want me to do that. Not with the way you’re feeling.”

  “Can you… read emotions?” I ask.

  “It’s more like a vibration, but I suppose you could call it that.”

  I shift uncomfortably. There are a lot of feelings inside of me right now—fear, relief, and grief—but they can’t possibly be worse. My mind is consumed with worry. “If you don’t prove it, I have no reason to think you’re any more sensible than Walter.”

  We hold eye contact for a tense moment before his gaze falls and I’m sure he’ll refuse again. How can he not when it isn’t possible? But then I feel it. The same oppressive emotions I had on the ship cripple and crush me from the inside out. Every ounce of relief at being free of Walter is gone. No. Nononono.

  “Lina?”

  The feeling fades quickly, and I blink at Nik. Sorrow is written all over his face as he wipes at my tears with his thumbs.

  “Are you okay?”

  No. I’m hyperventilating, and my stomach churns like it did the first few days on the ship. The world blurs and wobbles like it did the first time I stood on solid ground in New York. Nik rubs circles on my upper back until my breath is under control. I grip the stone wall beneath me to steady myself. When I’m able to speak again, I ask, “You did that?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  It’s real—what he says he can do—and now I don’t know what I feel except hollow. As if I’m waiting for someone to tell me what emotions to have. My hands tremble and the marks on my wrists burn as if the rope is still there. But the sun is warm on my skin and the ground stills beneath me. This isn’t the ship. Nik isn’t Walter.