The Siren at the Museum (The Girl Who Sang #1)

Chapter 16

The ancient forest was eerily quiet as they thundered swift and sure toward the Queen's castle. They could scarcely hear the heavy thud of King's footfalls; the still air and silent earth around them swallowed the noise. There were no birds overhead or creatures in the brush. The dream world was hushed, as if waiting for their coming confrontation. It knew its existence hung in the balance. Even the strange, gently glowing ferns and vines sensed it and hid their light away. The whole of the forest was dark and dim, fetid, threatening; all but the path King forged through this deep green. The brown-haired girl looked back over her shoulder at the trail of lilac tracing their path from the edge of the world. Plant life glimmered in the hellhound's wake, disturbed by his passage and resonating with the glittering, silent girl riding atop his back.

Luz held tight to King's mane and Amity's hands at her waist and clenched her eyes against the rising nausea that came with moving her real body. She was struggling at the stage now; it was proving... difficult... to coordinate her limbs for the climb up while astride the beast of black flames. That's an excuse, and you know it. It felt like she was leaning heavily, in the outside, but it was hard to be certain with two sets of sensations to process. She growled and left herself propped there, her arms and upper body hooked over the front edge of the stage like one of those hang-in-there kittens on a poster. Amity patted her stomach and Luz turned her head to peer at the glowing girl's face. She mouthed something Luz didn't catch, Dammit, and the brown-haired girl gave her an awkward grin, "Sorry, I'm bad at reading lips, uh, I'm just frustrated." The silent girl pulled herself closer and laid her chin atop Luz's shoulder, looking up at her with furrowed eyebrows. Luz sighed, turning her head slightly so she could watch King's path out of the corner of her eye, then, "I've been trying to move myself—my real body—up to the stage." The golden-eyed girl blinked and sat back slightly in surprise. Luz shrugged, "I thought, y'know, you're right and I'm right." She paused to shake her left hand again, "But I was having trouble climbing up, my, uh," she rubbed her left leg with her palm, seeing it more than feeling it, "I dunno. It's nothing."

Amity patted her again to catch her attention, and when Luz looked back, the silent girl put her pinky and thumb up to her face like a phone, then mimed yelling for help. "Yeah, yeah!" Luz smiled, grinning wide when Amity's face lit up, "Maybe Steve's in a position to help? I'm not sure who else could reach you quickly." Luz nodded, and gave Amity another soft smile, "Give me a minute, I'll try to let them know."

~

Steve wiped the sweat from his forehead as he finished zip-tying the last of the four Suits that had been cramping his style all evening. He hummed along with the unexpected Beastie Boys track as he worked, rolling the catatonic man onto his side so he wouldn't aspirate. He shouldn't choke on anything, but better safe than sorry. Technically, a death on the Green would fall under Parks and Rec jurisdiction, but as the Siren at the Met performance was Museum-adjacent, he'd surely get saddled with the paperwork. He kept his movements smooth, careful not to jostle the electronic earmuffs Eda had given him earlier. He'd pretended they were part of the security console and played possum when the audience and a few nearby pedestrians had stopped, staring off into the distance, unmoving. Aside from Luz, no one had moved since the performance began. He'd been stuck, leaning on his knuckles on the temporary security desk, staring down at his screens. Some of the audience had shifted slightly when the music changed, but they all went still and silent again soon after.

The four men in suits had been standing nearby all evening, a constant reminder from Mrs. Blight that she was in charge. They didn't talk much, but the audience falling into a trance hadn't seemed to surprise them. Luz standing had, and one man had trotted off to head around backstage when they saw her move. Steve could hear the others playing their parts of Eda's plan, while he could only stand still and listen. Eda had done something to the suit's radios, as they'd all gasped or yelled in pain and tugged at their earpieces, knocking two of his Suits into the same trance as the audience. He'd jabbed the third with his stun baton. Overkill perhaps, but cathartic. Zip-tying him was easy, he was just dead weight on the ground. The other two didn't want to move, and he had to practically hang on their shoulders and push at their knees to force them to the ground to get their ankles and wrists hooked together.