My whole world seems so fragile, like anything could completely fall apart in two seconds.
Vincent appears in front of me, and he’s crying. I’ve never seen him cry before.
“Vincent,” I say. “What’s wrong? What happened?” I don’t even care if Dad can hear me.
“Izabella,” he says softly. “She’s dead.”
“Dead? But I thought that she was immortal?” I am stunned, confused.
I sit up, throwing my arms around him.
“She is…was. There is one Dagger that can be used to send immortals to the next realm. The Originals have it. They never use it though, unless one of us wants to move on. Clio, though—one of the Nine…” he can’t continue.
“The Muse of History,” I say, urging him on. I remember that detail from Greek mythology class.
“Well, she woke up, and she’s mad at all of the Muses who have broken the rules so to speak…And she…” Vincent is sobbing. I don’t know what to do.
“The Muses who have broken the rules? If she killed Izabella, won’t she be looking for you next?” I clutch him tighter to me.
“Yes, but I’m not worried about that. I can’t stop thinking about Izabella,” I can feel the tears on Vincent’s face.
“Can Clio be stopped?” I ask him.
“I don’t know. Maybe her sisters can do something.”
He places his head on my chest, and I stroke his hair. I hold him as tightly as I possibly can.
After about ten minutes, Vincent stops crying.
He lifts his head up and looks at me.
“I don’t think Clio will be too pleased if she finds out that there is a half-Muse having a romantic relationship with me. And she’s already mad at me for everything that happened with Amber.”
“Should I be worried?”
“No,” he says. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Anything.”
And now he’s holding tightly onto me, stroking my hair.
So, there’s an Original Muse who may or may not want to kill me. And Vincent just lost his best friend and companion and first love. And Travis may or may not know about all of this, which would make him think I’m completely insane. And my dad might keep falling off the wagon, if he’s even still on any wagon. I never got a chance to ask him about his AA meeting today. And I might need to quit The Red Lampposts.
Right now, though, I have Vincent, and he’s stroking my hair. And for this moment, that’s enough. It has to be. I have to just stay here, in the now. Because if I think about everything else, it will be too much to handle.
“Oh,” I say, remembering a piece of good news. “I booked a show at Cool Beans.”
“That’s great, Sylvia.” Vincent says sincerely. It’s so nice to see a trace of joy in his brown eyes.
“Yeah, I thought you could use some good news,” I say.
“Thank you,” he says, stroking my hair. “We’ll start thinking about what songs you want to play. I’m proud of you for booking a show. I know that must have been nerve racking.”
“It would have been if I had really had time to think about it,” I say. “It was just sort of a spontaneous thing.” I pause. “I might need to quit The Red Lampposts. I think I did it to spite them.”
He looks at me with concern. I fill him in on everything—how Travis read my journal, how horribly it went when I tried to introduce one of my songs into the band, the conversation I overheard between him and Ryan. I am crying by the end of it, out of sadness or anger I can’t tell.
“Shhhh,” he says, holding me against his chest. “It will be alright. It’s probably best that you quit the band. You can do so much more on your own. And don’t worry about Travis. I can ask Mariela to Inspire Travis not to say anything to anyone about what he read in your journal.”
“Can Muses do that?” I ask. “Manipulate people into doing or saying what they want them to?”
“We call it Inspiration,” Vincent says. “Most of us don’t use it in that way. Most of us only use it to Inspire our artists. But I’m sure Mariela will understand this situation.” He strokes my hair and starts to sing “Asleep” by The Smiths. I focus very intently on the sensation of Vincent’s fingers in my hair, the sound of his beautiful voice in my ear. Sleep comes easily.
THIRTY-FOUR
Clio
Clio walked down the street in the 9th ward in New Orleans with four Earthly Muses behind her: Norris, the African American man who was once a blues singer; Lorena, a pale, beautiful woman with dark hair and dark eyes who had been a poet in Victorian England; Hector, a Spanish man who had once been a great composer; and Vann, a new Muse from New Orleans who had been a mediocre painter when he was alive.
“This is where he lives,” Vann said as the group approached a small, shabby apartment building that seemed to be one step away from crumbling.
“Are you absolutely positive?” Lorena asked. “I agree that we need to eliminate the half-Muses. However, I don’t think we need to proceed unless we know beyond a shadow of a doubt.”
“I’m positive,” Vann said. “His mother was a cello player, and his father was a Muse. She never knew. He abandoned her shortly after getting her pregnant. I used to live in the apartment next door.”
“Yes, yes,” Clio agreed. “It’s all very sad. But the half-bloods are not natural. There are simply not supposed to be people who are half-immortal walking around. They can all see all of us. At any time.”
“Is that why they usually go mad?” Hector asked, thoughtfully.
“Yes,” Lorena laughed. “I used to know one. She was quite insane.”
“That’s enough chatter!” Clio snapped.
Clio hadn’t found Vincent in Los Angeles. She wasn’t giving up on him, but she decided the half-Muses were more of a priority for now. She didn’t know how much time she had until Calliope woke.
They all stood behind her as Clio opened the unlocked door.
There he stood, the half-Muse that was called Daniel. He was sitting on his couch, reading A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin.
“Who are you? You’re all like the others I see. The ones who are slightly out of focus. Are you ghosts?” his voice was full of fear. It was clear that he avoided going outside, probably for fear that he would run into a Muse, not knowing that’s what they were, only knowing they were figures that only he could see.
“Hello, Daniel,” Vann said, stepping up in front of the others.
“Vann…what happened to you? You look like them now. You’re…you’re dead…” Daniel stammered.
“I’m better off now,” Vann said, nonchalantly, as he lit a cigarette.
“I’ll never understand why you need to smoke those things,” Lorena said with a scoff.
“We have come to set you free,” Clio said. She walked up to him and put a hand on his face. He was mesmerized by her beauty for a moment. She pulled out the Dagger. He immediately tried to run, but Hector grabbed him by the arm. Hector held Daniel’s wrists tightly behind his back as Clio approached him.
“Wait,” Norris said. He held up an ordinary knife he had retrieved from Daniel’s kitchen. “Use this one. You shouldn’t taint the Dagger with a half-blood.”
“You’re right,” Clio said, looking horrified at the Dagger. “Thank you.” She grabbed the kitchen knife from him. She walked up to Daniel and used the knife to slit his throat. She watched the life leave his eyes as he fell to the floor.
THIRTY-FIVE
More Than You Know
Lily. I feel really weird writing in you now that Travis may or may not have read you. Ugh.
There is so much I need to update you on. I don’t even know where to start.
Izabella is dead. Immortal Muses are not entirely immortal, I guess. And now there’s an Original Muse called Clio—the Muse of History—who probably wants to kill Vincent and maybe wants to kill me. Or at least she would if she knew about me. Vincent says that she doesn’t.
Vincent talked about this the other night when he cra
wled into my bed sobbing, but he hasn’t talked about it much since then. Every spare moment when I’m not at school, he’s had me practicing my songs. I had to pause a few times to do homework. I’m trying not to fall behind, but with everything going on…
I have managed to avoid Travis and Ryan these past couple of days. I’ve been spending lunch in the library. Principal Jenkins hasn’t caught me eating in there fortunately. Bianca knows something is up with me, and she’s asked me about it a few times. I don’t know how to handle the whole thing, though. Vincent says Mariela has gone missing so he hasn’t been able to tell her to Inspire Travis to keep quiet. Now I can’t help but be worried about her, too, though Vincent says Clio can’t have anything against her.
I never went to therapy after the whole punching Tommy incident like I told Dad I would. Laura has called me a few times to try to set up an appointment. My dad has missed this fact, luckily.
I haven’t seen Dad’s Muse at all since Lydia came here, and I can’t help but think she has something to do with that. I think it’s making him depressed. He’s going to meetings again, though, and I don’t think he’s been drinking since the Lydia incident.
On top of everything else, the chorus concert is tonight.
I would be excited but it’s hard to be excited about anything when there may be an Original Muse who wants to kill me and my Vincent.
I do have my first gig, though, at Cool Beans later this month. So, I guess I am sort of excited about that.
I realize the bus is almost at my house so I throw Lily into my bag. The bus stops and I get off. As I walk to my house, I listen to M83. It’s the only thing that seems to calm me down right now. M83 and Muse. It’s practically all I will listen to lately.
Speak of the devil, I think as Vincent is standing on my porch, waiting for me.
“Are you ready to practice?” he asks.
“I’m not even in the house yet,” I say to him.
He gives me that half-smile, half-smirk. There is life in his brown eyes that I haven’t seen since the night Izabella died.
I walk immediately down to the studio.
Without saying another word, I sit down at Martha and play “Autumn.” After that, I pick up Ani and go into “Lights Out.” I play one song after the other, and they sound better than they’ve ever sounded. I would almost be amazed at my own talent, but I know it’s not me. It’s Vincent.
He brings up the point that I should throw in a cover at my show. I start thinking about popular songs that are decent.
“Hey, it’s too bad everyone else can’t see you,” I say. “We could do ‘Somebody That I Used to Know’ as a duet.”
I start playing it on Ani. I plan on just stopping, but he starts singing. His voice sounds even more intoxicating when he is singing.
I keep playing the song and join in on the second verse. When it nears the end, we are both singing together, looking directly at each other and harmonizing.
When we finish the song, I start laughing, and he laughs, too. It’s nice to see him like this.
I put the Ani back on her stand and look at Vincent.
“Vincent,” I say. “Can you show me how to get any song to play in my head?”
Vincent hesitates.
“I would,” he says. “But it’s complicated. You have to essentially ask for a song or a film or any piece of art from the Ruling Original. Urania, in this case.”
“Okay. That doesn’t sound too complicated.”
“It was a lot more impressive before the internet. Nowadays, anyone with internet access has access to pretty much any art they want at any given time,” Vincent says.
“Okay, so I just close my eyes, and think ‘Urania, can I please hear In Rainbows by Radiohead?’” I do this. Nothing happens.
“That will usually work,” Vincent says. “But the last few times I have tried, it hasn’t.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, puzzled.
“It means Urania is not responding.”
I am silent for a moment.
“Not responding? Do you think she…” my voice trails off.
“No,” Vincent says quickly. “I’m sure there’s an explanation.”
“This Clio,” I say. “Won’t she come looking for you? How does that work? Will she know where you are?”
“The only Muse who can know where I am is Urania, because she’s the one who rules over all of us right now.”
“But she found Izabella…and what about Mariela?”
“I wouldn’t worry about that, my dear.” Vincent smiles, tucking my hair behind my ear.
“I just don’t want—”
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he says forcefully.
“I’m not worried about myself. I’m worried about you. If a freakin’ Greek goddess comes after me and tries to kill me, well, there’s basically no way I can win there. So, there’s no sense in worrying about it. But you? You have a chance.”
“Don’t talk like that,” he frowns. “Nothing is going to happen.” But there’s something in his eyes that makes me not quite believe that. “But you must get ready now. You have to be at the school for your concert in a half hour. And I think your father just got home.”
Vincent leans in towards me and brushes my lips with a kiss just before I hear my dad’s footsteps coming downstairs.
“Hey,” he says. “I didn’t know you were down here.”
“Yeah, just practicing for my Cool Beans show.”
“You excited about that?” he asks as he sits down and picks up his acoustic, Butch.
“Yeah, it should be cool,” I say. “Are you writing again?”
He strums a few chords.
“Not really,” he says. “I’m still blocked. I just thought I’d mess around for a little bit before your concert.”
“Oh, okay,” I say. I start to leave, but as I hear him strumming an interesting chord progression, I pause by the door. He’s facing away from me so he can’t see me. I think for a moment. My dad has apparently lost his Muse, but what about me? I’m a half-Muse, right? Could I Inspire my dad?
Instinctively, I close my eyes and lift my hand up, towards my dad. I try to remember the goosebump feeling I get every time Vincent touches me. I feel the energy pulsing through my body and try to push it out of my fingertips in my dad’s direction.
He starts humming the loveliest melody. Am I doing this?
My focus is broken, and the energy is no longer pulsing. My dad is just strumming the same chord progression over and over again, no longer humming.
“That sounds like a really cool song idea,” I say, encouraging him.
“Yeah, I just have to remember that melody…” he says, continuing to strum. I smile widely and rush upstairs to my room.
Did I just Inspire my dad to write a new song? Did I end his songwriter’s block? Is this proof that I really do have the blood of the Muse? I feel giddy and excited as I change into my chorus outfit.
***
I’m on stage, and we’re on the last song, “Seasons of Love.” The concert has gone surprisingly well. The audience has erupted into cheers after every song, and “Let’s Begin Again” sounded the best it’s ever sounded. Mr. King was practically dancing with joy from that point through the rest of the concert.
Mark, the golden-haired cherub-looking Muse has been sitting next to Ms. Bolton on the piano bench. Needless to say, her piano playing has been flawless. I saw him touching her a few times. I wonder if she could feel him there.
Travis and I move up front where the microphones are. Just before the song, I feel Travis tug at my hand. I look over at him.
“Sylvia,” he whispers. “Good luck.”
He smiles at me. I remember the conversation he had with Ryan and my heart sinks. He doesn’t know I’m quitting the band yet. I should tell him soon.
Mariela isn’t here, and her absence makes me sad.
The song begins, and by the time it gets to my solo, the audience is completely engaged.
And when I hit the high C, I can even hear my dad cheer loudly, yelling “YEAH!” like he’s at a rock show. I can’t help but smile. Travis doesn’t sound quite as good as when Mariela is here, but he still sounds alright.
When the song is over, the crowd erupts into a standing ovation. Mr. King looks at all of us, grinning so hard, I think his face might get stuck that way. I look over at Vincent.
“Excellent, my dear,” he whispers and kisses me on the cheek.
“You sounded great, guys!” Ms. Bolton says to me and Travis.
“I agree,” Mark adds. I smile at him, and we thank Ms. Bolton.
We all leave the stage. I see my dad in the audience.
“That was awesome, Sylvia,” he says, hugging me. “I can’t wait for your show at Cool Beans!”
“Great job, Sylvia!” Mr. King says.
“Thanks, Mr. King,” I say. “Hey, I’m playing at Cool Beans in two weeks. Do you want to come?”
“Yes! I will be there!” I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this excited.
“I’ll come with you,” Ms. Bolton says to him. I briefly wonder if that means it’ll be a date for them.
Travis sneaks up and throws his arms around me and then Bianca and Ryan, and we’re suddenly in a group embrace.
“That was awesome!” Travis exclaims.
“Your solo was so good, girl,” Bianca says to me.
“Thanks! You sounded great, too,” I congratulate Travis. I feel a wave of guilt about the band.
“Hey, do you guys want to go get some pizza at MPC?” Ryan asks.
“Yeah!” Travis and Bianca say at the same time. I look over at Vincent.
“Enjoy, my dear,” he says. “I’ll see you when you get home.”
He disappears before I can even respond to him. You’re always coming and going, Vincent.
***
I’m sitting at a booth at the Marietta Pizza Company with Bianca, Travis, Jamie, Cassie, and Ryan. We’re all excitedly talking about the chorus concert and music and bands.
Cassie and Bianca are speaking again, and they are acting like normal friends. It’s almost as if nothing even happened between them.
We Own the Sky (The Muse Chronicles Book 1) Page 21