We Own the Sky (The Muse Chronicles Book 1)

by Sara Crawford

  I head into the bathroom, pressing play on my CD player. Dark Side of the Moon is in my CD player, and I’m glad for that.

  I take a deep breath and step in the shower, letting the hot water wash over me, focusing on my breathing.

  As I shower, it occurs to me that I’m going to see Travis, Bianca, Ryan, and Cassie today. The first time I’ve seen any of them since Friday, which feels like it was years ago. So much has happened since then. I realize I haven’t looked at my phone all weekend. I wonder what happened with their love triangle of sorts.

  I get out of the shower, wrap a towel around myself, and walk over to my computer desk. My phone is dead so I plug it in as I get dressed and get ready for school. I throw Lily in my book bag, run downstairs, and pour myself some cereal.

  “Hey, Sylvie,” I hear my dad say from the couch. He is sitting there drinking coffee and watching the news.

  “Hey, Dad,” I greet him. “You’re up early.”

  “Yeah…” he seems a little weird. I can’t really tell why. “I haven’t seen much of you this weekend.”

  “Oh yeah, I’ve been really…inspired, you know.” I try to make my voice not sound suspicious.

  “I know exactly what you mean.”

  I notice vaguely that the woman on the news is talking about the tragic death of Jenny Treb.

  “Whoa, Jenny Treb died?” I ask.

  “Yeah, apparently,” Dad says, “Heroin overdose.”

  “Whoa,” I say, “I didn’t know she even did heroin.”

  “It’s sad and everything, but they’re all acting like she was a musical genius now. I mean, I’m sorry that she died, obviously, but let’s get real. It’s not like she was Kurt Cobain or Jimi Hendrix or something.” Dad seems a little weird. I eye him suspiciously.

  “What about you? Are you working on anything new?” I ask casually.

  “No,” there’s something empty in his eyes. I notice he has circles under his eyes that I haven’t seen in a while. “I haven’t written anything new in a while. I’ve just been playing old stuff I wrote, hoping to get inspired. But I feel like I’m having songwriter’s block or something.”

  I walk over to him on the couch.

  “Hey, do you care if I have a sip of your coffee?” I move to grab his cup. I take a sip, and it’s just normal coffee.

  I’m being paranoid. He isn’t drinking again.

  I am constantly on the lookout for the broken man that used to be my father. The one I saw crumbling on the floor. The one who almost drowned in his own vomit on multiple occasions. The one who I had to visit in rehab when I was only 11 years old.

  Sometimes at Wandering Pedestrian shows, I see that broken man again. He emerges when Dad plays “Pine Needle,” the acoustic ballad that is not-so-subtly about my mother. When he sings about her, it’s as if his soul has been obliterated and is spilling out of him through his fingertips and his voice. It’s heartbreaking to see him play that song, and at the same time, I think it may be the most beautiful song he’s ever written.

  “Have a good day, Dad.” I say, giving him a half-hearted smile. I run upstairs, grab my phone, my book bag, and Murphy.

  I put Murphy on shuffle as I walk out the door to the bus stop, and “Mayonaise” by the Smashing Pumpkins plays. It reminds me of my dad. I wasn’t even born when this album came out. It’s one of my dad’s favorites, though. He has it on vinyl.

  I glance at my phone.

  There is a series of text messages from Travis, Bianca, and even Cassie. They were probably all wondering where I was all weekend.

  The bus is already pulling up to the school. I turn my phone off and throw it in my bag.

  The first few classes go by in a haze. We have a quiz in Algebra that I totally forgot about, and I’m pretty sure that I failed because I didn’t do any studying whatsoever over the weekend.

  I walk into chorus, and Cassie and Bianca are being weird. They are in different seats with an empty seat in the middle, for me I guess. Bianca usually sits in the middle.

  “Hey, girl!” Bianca says, though she’s not as upbeat today. “Oh my God, did you hear about Jenny Treb? Isn’t that so sad?”

  “Yeah, it really is,” I say, and I realize I mean it. When I think about it, her death is really disturbing. I’m not sure if it’s because she died of a drug overdose, and she had such a squeaky clean image or because I did nothing but make fun of her music, and now she’s dead.

  Travis walks in and waves at me, but doesn’t come say hello to us.

  “Everything okay with you two?” I ask Bianca.

  “Yeah, we’re fine,” she says. “I just had too much to drink.” She glances over at Cassie.

  Mr. King comes in and starts class.

  “We’ll talk more at lunch!” I whisper to Bianca.

  Vincent appears, looking as beautiful as he always does. My heart races at the mere sight of him.

  “We’re going to start with ‘Seasons of Love.’ Are you ready?” Mr. King is looking at me with those kind, gentle eyes, enthusiastic, smiling.

  “Sure,” I say as I scuffle down to the front. Travis stands next to me as Mr. King sits down at the piano. I notice Mariela isn’t here yet, and I can’t help but be a little happy about this because I know it means that Travis won’t sing as well as I will.

  I’m not sure when I developed these competitive feelings for Travis, but they have grown over the past few weeks. Now every time he sings, I am torn between admiration and envy.

  The song starts as Vincent moves to stand behind me. He puts his hands on my shoulders, massaging them. It’s difficult for me to concentrate on the song, but soon enough Travis and I are launching into our solos. I notice Travis is looking right at me, and while normally, I would shy away, instead I turn to face him. I look directly at him as I sing my solo, singing my high note in his direction, showing off a little, even.

  I can feel Vincent’s half-smile from behind me without even turning to look at him.

  Travis isn’t on top of his game with the solo today. He doesn’t sound nearly as good as he usually does, I notice smugly.

  “Alright, let’s try that again,” Mr. King says when the song is over. “Tenors, let’s go over your part again.” The tenors are always messing things up. So many of them are only in here because they thought it’d be an easy A.

  “How late am I?” Mariela asks me as she rushes in.

  She’s always late, I think to Vincent. Vincent stifles a laugh.

  “What was that, Vincent?” Mariela asks in a huffy tone.

  “You’re always late!” I say to her.

  Several people, including Mr. King, stop what they’re doing and look at me in stunned silence. My face turns bright red.

  “What was that, Baker?” Mr. King asks me, looking a little concerned.

  “Oh, nothing. I was just…nothing.” I can’t even come up with a good excuse for my outburst.

  “Alright. Let’s try it again.”

  Travis is eyeing me suspiciously, looking over at the spot where Mariela stands.

  We go into the song again. I’m hoping that my face is a little less red by the time it gets to my solo. I’m not singing as strongly as I was the first time. Vincent gives my shoulder a little squeeze, and I recover with the high note.

  I’ve gotten used to the way it feels when he Inspires me. When we are alone, I let myself really feel it, but when I’m around other people, I try not to focus on it too much. I don’t want people to think I’m being sexual or something. I’m not, but it does look like that sometimes. I wonder if it feels this way for every artist when they are Inspired by a Muse.

  Travis sounds amazing this time, now that Mariela is with him. I can’t help but roll my eyes.

  “Did you roll your eyes at me when I was singing?” Travis whispers when the song is over.

  “No…I…” I mumble. “We should get back to our seats.”

  I take my seat next to Bianca.

  “You okay, girl?” Bianca asks, clearl
y concerned about my behavior.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” My tone is starting to get pissy.

  “It’s alright, my dear,” Vincent whispers in my ear. “They don’t understand.” He kisses my head softly. I struggle to keep my facial expression normal.

  We practice the other songs for the fall concert, and we are so busy singing, there isn’t much time to talk.

  When class ends, I gather my stuff to head to lunch. Travis walks over to me.

  I look over at Vincent.

  Are you leaving?

  “For now, my dear,” he whispers. “I’ll be back later.”

  He smiles at me, the exquisite dimples on his face stopping my breath for a moment. And then he disappears, Traveling to who knows where.

  “What do you keep looking at?” Travis almost yells at me.

  I snap my head up to look at him, almost paralyzed.

  “Nothing,” I hiss. We start to walk out of the classroom as Mr. King waves at me.

  “Can I talk to you, Baker?” he asks.

  I give Travis a look. He walks on ahead of me. Everyone goes to lunch without me, except Bianca who waits around.

  “Sure,” I say to Mr. King.

  “Are you alright, Baker?” he asks. “You seem stressed.”

  “I’m fine,” I say.

  “Baker,” he says, looking at me. “I know that sometimes there may be situations that you feel like no one else would understand. But if you need someone to talk to, you can always talk to me.”

  He gives me a look.

  For the briefest second, I consider telling him everything. I consider spilling the whole damn story about Vincent and Mariela and everything. And for that same second, I think that maybe he knows about Muses.

  I return to my senses, though.

  “I’m just having some family issues,” I say. This is really stretching the truth. “But I appreciate it.”

  “I’m always here if you change your mind,” he flashes me a smile. There’s a genuine kindness about Mr. King that I can’t help but appreciate. He’s one of my favorite people.

  “Thanks, Mr. King,” I say.

  I walk out of class. Bianca walks beside me.

  “Are you okay?” she asks me.

  “I’m fine,” I say. “What happened? With you and Travis?” I ask her.

  “I ended up telling him that Cassie and I kissed, and then we got in a huge fight about it. Eventually, though, I was able to convince him that I just had too much to drink and wanted to see what it would be like to kiss a girl, but that Cassie and I are just friends. So, things have been a little weird, but I think he’s getting over it.”

  “Do you have feelings for Cassie?” I ask her as we walk into the cafeteria.

  “No!” she says a little too forcefully. “I mean, I don’t think so. See, the thing is that I like guys.”

  “Do you like girls, too?” I ask.

  “That doesn’t matter. If I like guys, I’m straight.” She frowns as we stand in line to get sub sandwiches.

  “Maybe you like both girls and guys,” I say. “That’s okay, you know. Some people are bisexual.”

  There is a pause, and then she starts laughing.

  “You’re so profound, Sylvia,” she says. “That should be your yearbook quote.”

  ***

  We are having Red Lampposts practice at Ryan’s house today because Dad is having Midnight Walk practice, which means I have to use Ryan’s drum kit, which isn’t nearly as good as Charlie.

  Travis is in a foul mood as he sets up his guitar. Maybe he’s not getting over the fight with Bianca like she thinks he is.

  “Are you alright?” I ask Travis. “If you need to talk or anything, you can.”

  “Whatever,” he says. Ryan offers him his flask, and he takes a big swig. “Let’s just play.”

  I understand this. Playing music is the best way to work out any emotions.

  I nearly explode with happiness when I see Vincent in the corner.

  Vincent!

  He moves to stand behind me.

  “Hello, love,” he says, kissing my head. I smile broadly.

  “What are you so happy about? Do you like seeing me like this?” Travis asks, getting moody.

  “No…I’m…it’s fine,” I say, my face turning red. “Let’s just play.”

  We play a few songs. Vincent really doesn’t need to Inspire me for this, but it does make my drumming better. I even feel at home on Ryan’s kit. Mariela shows up in the middle of the fourth song and stands behind Travis, Inspiring him. We jam on a few new ideas that are starting to really come together.

  Once we have finished our entire set and a few of Travis’s new ideas, Vincent whispers in my ear, “bring up your songs.”

  Mariela frowns. “Sylvia’s not the front person in this band,” she says. “No offense.”

  “None taken,” I say out loud. Travis and Ryan look at me strangely.

  I look at Vincent. What if I play a solo gig instead? Keep my music and the band music separate?

  Vincent smiles at me. “That would be alright, my dear.”

  Mariela beams. “I’m so glad you came around, hermano. You two are adorable.”

  Tell her I would kiss you if it wouldn’t make me look insane to these two, I think.

  Vincent blushes. “I’m glad I came around, too.”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Urania

  In the Spirit Realm, Urania greeted all the artists who had died to consider whether or not she would allow them the opportunity to become Muses.

  In truth, Urania had offered this opportunity to every artist who died in the past century. Most of them did want to become Muses, which led to the overpopulation of Earthly Muses, which led to the highest population of artists the world had ever seen.

  When Urania saw Jenny Treb, there, though, she immediately knew. Clio killed this poor girl. Technically, Jenny Treb didn’t have enough artistic talent to become a Muse, and Urania knew it. She did, however, have an abundance of artistic passion, and Urania was always more concerned with passion than talent.

  She explained the existence of Earthly Muses to Jenny Treb and then she extended her hand to the young singer to offer her the chance to become an Earthly Muse. Jenny hesitated only a little as she reached out to grab Urania’s hand.

  ***

  Urania walked inside of the little house on Mount Olympus. It was just as she feared. Melpomene’s bed was empty and the small door leading to the secret room under the house was ajar. She went down there to look at the shelf that she knew would be empty. The Dagger was gone.

  What have you done, Clio? Urania thought. She sent the thought in her direction. All the Original Muses were connected and could send thoughts to each other if they wished to. Urania heard nothing in return, of course.

  Was she too late? Had Clio killed Vincent or Izabella or any of the half-Muses? Urania wasn’t sure exactly how many existed. Could anything be done? Urania decided she first needed to warn Vincent and Izabella. If they hid themselves, Clio would have no possible way of knowing where they were. As the ruling Muse, Urania was the only one who could keep track of the Earthly Muses, and that was only when they called out to her for a piece of art or she Summoned them. Urania could keep all the Earthly Muses safe—and the half-Muses—if she could only hide them. All she needed was a little time.

  Melpomene had obviously gone along with Clio’s plans, but the others? When they woke up, they would all help to make Clio see reason. Calliope would be the last to wake. How long would they have to wait for her?

  Urania had made up her mind to go to Georgia to warn Vincent first when she heard her sister behind her.

  “Are you thinking of going somewhere?” Melpomene’s voice sounded just as sullen as it had the last time she had seen her a century ago.

  “Hello, Melpomene,” Urania greeted her. “I was actually.”

  “Clio said you would try to stop her,” Melpomene said.

  Urania closed her eyes, trying to d
isappear, but before she could go anywhere, Melpomene was suddenly on top of her, pinning her down to the floor.

  “What are you doing?” Urania asked. The two of them struggled until Melpomene eventually got Urania into a chair in the corner of the room. Urania truly was the weakest one of them, and it was easy for Melpomene to overpower her. Melpomene used a thin, shiny, silver fabric that Urania had never seen to tie her wrists to the chair. “Really, Melpomene. What are you doing?”

  Did she honestly think she could restrain her to a chair?

  But then when Urania tried to Travel to Georgia, she found that she couldn’t. What was this fabric?

  “Clio told me I needed to stop you,” Melpomene said. “She said I needed to prevent you from moving. She told me about this fabric that the gods used to use to keep each other in one place when necessary. Not many of them knew about it. She said it would prevent you from going anywhere if I used it to restrain you. In fact, it prevents you from using any of your gifts.”

  Urania panicked for a moment. She closed her eyes and tried to locate her Earthly Muses. She tried to fill one of her Muse’s minds with a song, a painting, a film. She even tried to do something she never did: Summon one of her Earthly Muses. None of it worked. Who had created this fabric? How did Clio know about it?

  “Mel,” Urania huffed, “don’t you think you’re being a little irrational?”

  Melpomene’s green eyes held more sadness in them than Urania had ever seen. Urania couldn’t recall a time when Melpomene was ever happy or smiling, and yet there was a sense that Melpomene loved her sadness. She was the Muse of Tragedy.

  “None of you ever think I’m capable of anything. You’ve always underestimated me. And I have to agree with Clio in this,” Melpomene said, “things have gotten so out of hand with the Earthly Muses. There are simply too many.”

  “Melpomene,” Urania said, with more urgency in her voice. “You don’t understand. Clio is killing innocent people. She murdered that pop star, Jenny Treb. She killed a human!” Urania noticed a hint of panic in her own voice. If Clio discovered Jenny Treb was a Muse now, she would certainly eliminate her.

  “I’m sorry. People die,” Melpomene said. Urania could see the flawed logic in arguing with the Muse of Tragedy about why murder was a bad thing. “I have to go now.”