Page 27 of Music of the Night
“And the Count ran the theater then?”
“Of course, who else do you suppose?”
“Who taught her to sing?” I pressed.
Madame Blu’s face changed into one of puzzlement. “She spent enough time with the Count but, I don’t believe he taught her. Pardon my words, the Count has an ear for fine music, but he doesn’t teach it.”
My fingers went stiff. If he didn’t teach her, there could only be one other…
“But we shouldn’t talk of such things, Aria. Leave the past alone, there’s nothing you can do to change it.”
“What about High Tower?” I whispered. “How long has the theater been here?”
“Bless me, as long as I can remember. But don’t mind the memory of an old woman. I’ve been here a while, but it’s not like I was born here. The Count needed a manager, and I thought myself well qualified.”
I closed my eyes, thinking of Uriah up in the tower. Twenty years ago, had he taught Lucia to sing? And could he shift into wolf form? If so, why hadn’t he tried to kill me?
“Excuse me.” I stood. “I feel ill. I must return to my room.”
23
Uriah
She was late. I floated in the lagoon, humming a tune as I waited, although I already sensed the presence of monsters there. Water slapped against stone, the sound eerie, reminding me I wasn’t alone, not anymore. A sixth sense warned me the monsters were near and would not delay long. It was almost time to put my plan in motion, yet I’d delayed because of her. One more night of bliss, I promised myself and then I’d enact my plan. What would she think of me when she discovered the truth? Would she despise me for what I’d done? Underground it was easy to give in to dark thoughts, to let the murk and gloom drag me down.
A grate moved, and then a light glowed. She hurried down the stairs toward me, flustered, breathing hard.
“Aria,” I called, holding out a hand to help her aboard.
Quickly she took my hand and released it, although her fingers trembled. Still, I pushed off, away from High Tower Castle, back to my lair. She was silent, and I hummed a melody to keep the monsters at bay.
We arrived and Aria moved out of the boat without my help. When I joined her in my tower she stood in the center, cloak and gloves still on, her back to me. I sensed it then. Something had shifted, changed between her and I, but I could not put a finger on what.
“How was the performance?” I’d snuck in to watch her and she was magnificent. When she sang, there was a new element in the air, a shift more potent and powerful than the magic I used.
She whirled to face me but would not meet my eye. “It was magnificent, the audience, the applause, the music,” she breathed, a hint of fever finding its way back into her voice. “I wish you could have heard it.”
“What memory did you call upon?” I probed.
Her head dropped. “I thought of you.”
I hissed, a sharp intake of breath as I stepped back. Of me? Why? I’d brought her no pain and yet, the magic did not, should not have worked that way. “Why?”
Biting her lip, she looked away. “Because I’m sick and tired of being sad all the time. I want light and happiness in my life. I don’t want to take the gift, the one thing I love, and tarnish it with past memories, with that darkness. Every time I hear you play, I think, I hope there might be a way out of this, Uriah.” She faced me at last, nostrils quivering.
I moved closer, my instincts screaming at me. Something had happened, someone had frightened her, and yet she wore the ruby. Who had dared lay a hand on my beloved? “Speak,” I commanded, sliding my hands around her waist. “Tell me, what frightened you?”
She went rigid at my touch, yet her eyes darkened into pools of liquid desire and her breasts pressed against my chest. When she licked her lips, my eyes were drawn there, but it was not the time to kiss her. I had to hear the words from her lips. Her gaze was imploring as she pressed a hand against my cheek, her fingers cold, trembling.
“Tell me who you are,” she whispered. “Tell me this is all some dream, that you are good, that monsters don’t exist, and magic will not demand a price.”
I jerked and leaned back, dislodging her hand. I tensed as howling darkness called out to me, seduced me with pain and madness and blood. Somehow, someway, she’d been warned against me. Hadhedone it? Had he told her who I was? And if so, why was she standing here? Why had she come?
Instead of answering her question, my walls came up. What a fool I was, to think she could love me, dark and demented. Eventually she’d discover the truth and run. As she should. This was no place for such beauty and grace to take hold, and yet she’d come to me, learned from me, took the gift and changed it. Instead of running, she stood before me, teary-eyed, demanding the truth. She was only mortal. How could I trust her not to give me away, how could I have been so weak as to give her my heart?
“Why would you ask me this?” I growled. “I warned you in the very beginning to run away, to leave this place, but you made a choice. Now the music is within you, the magic swells and grows.”
“I didn’t know,” she cried. “Please, tell me the truth? Are you the reason High Tower is like this?”
