We Own the Sky (The Muse Chronicles Book 1)

by Sara Crawford

  “We’ll talk to Derek,” Travis says quickly before Ryan can say anything else offensive. “And we’ll let you know. But I think it’s safe to say you’re in the band if you want to be.”

  I stand up and rush over to Travis and give him a hug. Once I am here, hugging him, I feel uncomfortable and let go. “I had a blast jamming with you guys.” I even give Ryan a big grin. They pack up the rest of their stuff, and we exchange some small talk as they leave.

  As soon as they are out the door, I rush up to my room, press play on the recent playlist I made, and lie down on my bed. Moonlight Bride plays, and I smile.

  I am in a band. I have a Muse. I’m a real musician.

  I am slightly disappointed that Vincent didn’t come tonight. Or even Mariela. But I guess neither of us were really writing anything new. I wonder if I could bring any of the songs Vincent helps me write into The Red Lampposts. Maybe Travis and I could both sing sometimes. But can I sing without Vincent?

  “We Own the Sky” by M83 comes on my playlist, and it makes me wish he was here with me now, pressing his hand to my shoulder, Inspiring me. I can almost feel the goosebumps on my arms as the ethereal sounds of M83 send me into a dream.

  ELEVEN

  Vincent

  Vincent appeared in the chorus room. Sylvia was singing with all the altos, buried in her sheet music, and she didn’t even notice him until her head popped back up. She gasped at the sight of him and then flashed a brilliant smile in his direction.

  Vincent! she thought. I haven’t seen you in over a week!

  Had it really been that long?

  “I’m sorry, love,” he whispered aloud.

  He stayed and Inspired her to sing. Her voice sounded crisp and clear as always. It filled his soul, and he relaxed into it. He loved Inspiring her in a way that he had never loved Inspiring anyone else—not even Izabella or Amber.

  He watched her as she sang. She looked lovely with her long, honey brown hair pulled into a messy pony tail. The only makeup she wore was thick, black eyeliner, which brought out her shining green eyes, and her natural pale complexion was wonderful. She wore jeans and a simple dark blue shirt. He supposed she would look ordinary to most people, but to him she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Perhaps it was her love of music, her passion for Art, shining through her that made her so appealing.

  Vincent had only been nineteen when he became a Muse, and sometimes, he still felt like that young man, especially when he looked at Sylvia. He longed to reach out and grab her hand, but not just to Inspire her. He wanted to hold her in his arms, to feel her pressed against him. The thought startled him.

  As much as he was trying not to, he felt himself falling in love with her. There was already so much he loved about her. He loved the way she saw the world. He loved how shy and reserved she could be and then how all of that disappeared whenever she sang or played guitar or drums or piano. He loved her relationship with her father and how much she loved him. He loved the inexplicable quality that seemed to make her completely unique—as if she were vibrating on her own individual frequency. He loved how deeply she felt things, even when she was drowning in despair or boiling over with fury. That had been how he was as a human, too, and maybe how he still was. He saw so much of himself in her.

  As he compiled the list of things he loved about her, the sense of dread washed over him. Was it already too late? Perhaps he needed to stop being her Muse. Perhaps he needed to leave before it went any further. If he had only done that with Amber, he could have saved both of them a lot of pain.

  And what about everything Urania said about Clio? Had she woken yet? He could never forgive himself if he put Sylvia in danger.

  They ended their song, and she grinned at him so widely, it made him grin back at her.

  Did that sound good? she asked in her thoughts.

  “Exquisite,” he said to her with a smile.

  She beamed. I’m so happy, Vincent. I haven’t felt like this in a long time. Singing in chorus, playing drums in a band, writing songs with you, my Muse, having friends…I didn’t realize life could be like this.

  He smiled at her, trying to hide the sadness in his eyes. How could he deny her a Muse? He loved seeing her like this, so happy, so joyful. He had to continue to be her Muse, he decided. He would just have to try harder to make sure it didn’t end up like it had with Amber. Even if he developed feelings, he wouldn’t act on them, he resolved.

  And then for the first time in over a century, he thought of a poem.

  TWELVE

  Urania

  Urania sat on a beach chair on Elli beach. Fortunately, tourist season was dying down, and it was not particularly busy. No one could see her, anyhow, but she preferred to sit in a chair that was not occupied by a human. Urania wore a bright green one-piece bathing suit with huge neon pink sunglasses, and her long, brown hair that normally reached her waist was tied up into a messy bun. Being an Original Muse, she didn’t actually need sunglasses or a bathing suit as the sun would have no effect on her skin, but she enjoyed those things. She was in the middle of watching the new Woody Allen film in her mind when Clio appeared. She was dressed in a white toga, her black curls pinned up in a hairstyle that hadn’t been popular since the Ancient times.

  Urania felt brief a sense of panic. She took a deep breath.

  “Urania, have you even been keeping track of your Muses?” Clio prompted, not even saying hello.

  “Hello, Clio. It’s only been 500 years. Nice to see you, too.”

  “Answer the question!” Clio barked.

  “Well, what are they doing that’s so troublesome?” Urania asked innocently.

  “It’s all a huge mess, Urania. First of all, there are about two times the number of Earthly Muses than there needs to be. Exactly what have you been doing? Letting anyone with any shred of artistic persuasion whatsoever become a Muse? And I’ve been looking at the most popular movies, television shows, photographs, listening to the most popular music, viewing the most popular art for a week straight—ever since I woke up—and I am in complete shock. When last I was awake, we had da Vinci, Michelangelo, Raphael. Artists that created works of art that were brilliant, spectacular displays of the divine Inspiration we gave them. And now, do you know there is a cartoon TV show about turtles that uses their names? What blasphemy!”

  “That show was popular about twenty years ago,” Urania interjected. “Although it has made a comeback recently!” Urania couldn’t help but laugh at this, which made Clio scowl at her.

  “It was still in your time! You’ll just allow anything, won’t you?”

  Urania simply nodded.

  “And then! I was in such horror and disbelief that I found the first Earthly Muse I could and got him to tell me even more absurd information. Did you know these Earthly Muses are going around impregnating humans? I thought I put a stop to that last time I was awake, but there are many half-Muse-half-human hybrids just walking around! And I have no way of really knowing how many there are exactly or how to find them.” There was so much outrage in her voice that Urania knew she would not be done with her rant just yet.

  “And I’m assuming you saw these paintings of Izabella and Vincent? Here, we have Muses actually getting an artist to paint portraits of them. It’s unthinkable.”

  “Many artists have painted us over the centuries,” Urania interjected.

  “Yes, well,” Clio said, searching for an argument. “Not like this. Vincent and Izabella. Appalling.”

  “They resolved this matter,” Urania said calmly. “Anyway, I think it’s best to let these things work themselves out. Times are different now.”

  “Maybe that’s your fault.”

  “How could that be my fault?”

  “Here you are, lounging on the beach while your Muses run around showing themselves to humans and falling in love with them, creating half-mortal-half-immortal beings, making humans paint them while singers are singing about ‘Party in All the Right Places’ and Michelang
elo has been reduced to a cartoon turtle. You have completely destroyed Art.” Clio got closer to Urania and removed her sunglasses to make her point, staring her down with those cold green eyes.

  “I think now is a wonderful time for Art,” Urania said. “There are so many artists. It’s no longer for just the privileged few who learn how to read or write or draw or paint or play an instrument. And then there’s the Internet! They can share their songs, their poems, their paintings simply by clicking a button. Isn’t that delightful?”

  Urania looked at Clio with pure glee and enjoyment on her face. Clio was not impressed.

  “Art shouldn’t be for everyone,” Clio said. “It de-values the meaning.”

  “This has happened before,” Urania said coolly, “Art has always fluctuated. There have been times it was highly regarded and times that mindless entertainment was much more popular. But real Art always does its job, and therefore, we are always doing our jobs. And there is more real Art out there than ever before. That is why there are also more Muses than ever before.”

  “I am fully aware of history,” Clio said. “That’s not the point. You know very well that there is a reason we do not make ourselves known to humans. And these half-mortal-half-immortal beings…well, someone has to put a stop to that.”

  “Clio, nothing needs to be changed. Everything will be as it is.”

  All the muscles in Clio’s face tensed up, her eyes burning with anger.

  “I’m warning you, Urania,” Clio spat. “I will find a way to take back the Dagger. And then I’m going to get rid of every single half-blood out there. And I’ll eliminate at least half of the Earthly Muses. And I’m going to start with Izabella and Vincent. Art will be what it’s meant to be again.”

  And then Clio was gone. Without another word.

  Urania sighed and disappeared, slightly annoyed that she didn’t get to finish her Woody Allen film.

  She re-appeared on Mount Olympus. She could only Travel to the Clouds, and then she had to hike the rest of the way on foot to reach the house of the Muses. As she walked, she couldn’t help but think about what a useless rule this was. Why they couldn’t simply Travel in and out of the Village of the Gods, she would never understand. Some elitist nonsense about how anyone who wanted to visit the Village of the Gods must prove themselves, but Urania thought this was old-fashioned and pointless considering only those with immortal blood could even see anything beyond the Clouds.

  At last, she reached the house of the Muses. When she entered, she noticed all the Muses aside from herself and Clio were still fast asleep. None of them appeared to be stirring. How long would they have to wait for Calliope to wake this time? Weeks? Months?

  Urania found the small door that led to a tiny room underneath all of them. It was in this room that the Dagger was placed upon a shelf. She hadn’t needed to use it in almost ten years. She had come close with Vincent earlier this year when he had asked her to move on, but luckily, he had changed his mind. When she thought about the mad Clio hurting Izabella or Vincent, she almost boiled over with fury. She had to make sure the Dagger was secure, and fortunately, it seemed to be for the moment.

  There were only two Muses who knew where the Dagger was now: Urania and Melpomene, the Muse who had built this secret room, almost one century ago, just before Urania took her place as the ruling Muse.

  Urania knew she could take the Dagger with her, but she also knew Clio would be able to attack her and retrieve it. Clio had always been the strongest of her sisters. Every other time she woke, Clio found the Ruling Muse and overpowered her to retrieve the Dagger so that she could eliminate the Earthly Muses she didn’t approve of. Clio would have been able to overpower Urania easily, which is why Melpomene and Urania had built the room. She decided it was safer to leave the Dagger there.

  When Urania peaked into the other room, Melpomene’s eyelids were twitching. It wouldn’t be long before she woke.

  Urania couldn’t believe Clio was so concerned about these half-Muse-half-humans. There couldn’t have been that many. As far as Urania knew, the majority of the half-Muses had been driven mad and taken their own lives before they could learn the truth. Being a half-Muse was incredibly difficult for anyone. They didn’t really belong with the gods or the humans. Urania knew there were a few out there, though. She also knew that Clio had no way of finding them unless a Muse led her to them.

  “Everything will be as it is,” Urania affirmed. She closed her eyes and went back to the beach.

  THIRTEEN

  Years of Sorrow

  I have been the official drummer for The Red Lampposts for a week now.

  I do feel a little bad about Derek, who isn’t even speaking to Ryan or Travis, but at the same time, it’s not like they told him they didn’t want to be friends with him anymore. Still, I would be upset if it were me.

  Dad says all is fair in love and music, and he can always find a different band. I think Dad is just thrilled that I’m finally in a band of my own. I think he has noticed how my mood has really stabilized in the past week.

  Travis, Bianca, Cassie, Ryan, and I are all sitting at our usual lunch table as the rain pours outside. Tommy, the football player I punched, walks by, giving me a dirty look.

  “He’s such an asshole,” I mutter.

  “He’s alright,” Ryan says.

  I raise an eyebrow. “How can you defend him?”

  “Aren’t you a little embarrassed that you had to get a girl to fight your battles?” Ryan asks Travis as if I’m not even here.

  “I don’t care about that,” Travis says. “I’m obviously not gay, and why should he give a damn if I was? I mean, it’s not 1952 or whatever. That guy’s an idiot. I was just going to ignore him, but then you…” He starts laughing as he looks at me. “You should have seen his face after you punched him…” His laugh turns into a guffaw.

  “It was pretty amazing,” Bianca says, chuckling.

  “It’s not funny,” I say through giggles. “I had to sit in ISS for three days!”

  Ryan and Bianca are laughing now, too, and even Cassie joins in. The joy is contagious.

  “So anyway,” Bianca says. “You guys should really let me do your band photos.” She scrolls through her cell phone. “Let me show you these headshots I just did.”

  “You’re doing headshots now?” Cassie asks.

  “This was the first time I tried it,” Bianca says. “But yes. Do you want me to do yours?”

  “If I were auditioning, maybe,” Cassie says with a shrug. “The acting thing is just an idea right now.”

  She hands me her phone and I scroll through some pictures of an unfamiliar pretty girl with blonde hair and striking blue eyes. “These look really good,” I say. I continue to scroll through until I reach the end of the set.

  The next photo she has on her phone is a candid photo of Cassie who is looking away from the camera. The picture was taken during a gorgeous sunset that is shining behind her, and I am almost breathless with the sheer beauty of it. The way the picture is composed, the way Cassie looks so lonely and whimsical at the same time.

  “This is…” I start to say, but Bianca snatches her cell phone.

  “So anyway,” Bianca says quickly. Cassie looks up.

  “What was that?” Cassie asks. “Was that a picture of me?”

  Ryan and Travis are engaged in their own conversation so they don’t notice this exchange.

  “I think I could…really do some…great photos for you guys!” Bianca says. She blushes, clearly flustered, but Travis and Ryan are totally oblivious.

  “Sounds great,” I smile at her, trying to clear some of the awkward tension.

  I freeze as a melody fills my head. That can only mean one thing. Vincent is here.

  I look around frantically, but I can’t see him anywhere. Is he hiding from me?

  “Are you looking for someone?” Cassie asks me.

  I snap my head back to her. “Oh, no,” I say. “I was just…I thought I saw someone I
knew.”

  I make a point to keep my eyes ahead even though it is driving me crazy.

  I’m going to the library. I send a thought in his direction and stand up, telling the others I’m going to work on school work.

  When I get to the library, though, the melody disappears. Was he here? Where did that melody come from? I can’t see him anywhere, and I’m trying to remember the haunting melody that was just running through my mind, but it’s like grasping in the dark.

  I sigh. I’m getting a little frustrated with him. He comes to me whenever he feels like it, and he Inspires me to write these amazing songs. So far, I have written three of them—one is just piano, one is guitar and vocals, and one is piano and vocals. The piano one is called “Autumn,” the piano and vocals is a sort of upbeat/almost angry song called “Nothing Lost,” and the guitar and vocals song is a soulful ballad that even puts “April” to shame. It’s called “Lights Out,” and it’s a haunting, melancholy love song about how loss and gain are cyclical. Sometimes I look at the lyrics and think, “it’s obvious that I didn’t write this…”

  I haven’t played these songs for anyone yet, though Vincent tells me I need to start thinking about playing a show somewhere once I get eight to nine songs. It’s hard for me to know when he’s going to be here and when he isn’t, though, and he never comes to Red Lampposts practice. Luckily, when I’m playing the drums, I can just kind of go along with whatever Ryan and Travis are playing, and I don’t need that much “divine inspiration” as I’ve come to think of it, but it does irritate me because I want to be around Vincent as much as possible.

  Not that I don’t have a blast with Mariela when she shows up at Red Lampposts practice. She is so happy that I can hear her. She’s practically told me her entire life story. She grew up in Puerto Rico. She was a popular singer down there in the 1960s (the one Travis’s dad loves) and she was going to come to America and try to break out here, but she ironically and tragically died in a plane crash on the way. When she died, she of course became a Muse. I love being around her, though. Unlike Vincent, who is usually serious and brooding, Mariela is so enthusiastic.