The Muse met his eyes. ‘A song of death.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Bells
THE TARMAC WAS BITING AND SPIKY AGAINSTTHE SOLES OFBells’ feet – cool and damp from the rain.
‘Remi!’ she shouted, as breath blistered her lungs.
Remi ran at a pace that made Bells grateful her father had trained her just as much as her siblings.
But no matter how much she called for her to stop, Remi ran as if she couldn’t hear her, as if she wasafraid.
As they came to the end of the street, a great red-stone building spired up into the darkness: a gothic cathedral drenched in the full moon’s cold lustre.
Bells staggered to a stop as a car rushed past. Its bright headlights burned her eyes, the red glow of taillights following. Her heart beat wildly in her ears at the risk of being out alone, this danger so much more real than one of her visions.
She craned to see Remi. Her heart shot into her throat as the other girl tripped on the path to the cathedral. She got her bearings and continued, blasting the tall black gates open and then the doors of the cathedral itself with a cry.
Bells finally breached the road and bolted after her. But as she got to the doors, something sharp knifed into her bare foot. She jumped and stumbled with a cry, looking down to see the metallic remnant of one of Lawna’s unlocking devices.
Which meant … Remi had planned this. She’d been scared ofwhatever this music was inside her and wanted to get somewhere no one would be hurt.
Bells looked back the way she’d come, wondering if Remi would stay in this location, stay safe, and she’d have enough time to run back and get the others.
But then jagged, mournful notes began inside the cathedral, and Bells was—
Spellbound.
This music was like nothing Remi had ever played before.
It rang with the sureness and mournful sweetness of death.
Bells had felt this in her visions. Every night when she was privy to a murder, to a fate she couldn’t stop, it shimmered with this feeling. But did that mean that whatever was happening to Remi would kill her? The icy sickness of the thought pushed Bells closer.
Now, Remi stood at the crossing of the nave and transept, lit by moonlight through the stained glass in an array of jewel colours.
The violin’s strings were slippery with blood. It was sliding down Remi’s arms and staining the silken sleeve of her nightdress. Her body was swaying with the music and the angry slash of her arms. The arpeggio grew fevered, the notes magnified and chorused by the epic height of the building.
But it was no longer just Remi playing.
The echoes of an entire orchestra filled the space with a romantic, tragic song that vibrated through Bells’ bones.
She watched from the shadows as Remi played a frantic melody that felt torn from the throats of gods. It didn’t matter that there wasn’t really an orchestra, Bells could hear it building, deepening with the great thunderous crashes of drums and the sweeping tension of strings.
She didn’t know how to help Remi stop, but she had to try before she wore her fingers to the bone.
‘Remi!’ Bells called out. ‘I’m here!’
Remi’s brow fluttered as if pained, but she kept her eyes scrunched shut as the music built towards a crescendo.
‘Just focus on the other sounds,’ Bells tried, ‘the way I focus on your singing! Listen to my voice!’ More times than she could count, Remi’s humming had helped Bells sink into a vision-less slumber or had awoken her from the cold grip of nightmares.
It felt like a sin to cut through this music. Bells’ words warbled slightly with desperation, but they didn’t seem to breach the sheer wall of sound.
When more tears sped down Remi’s cheeks, Bells allowed herself to be drawn by the dark pull of the music and had a feeling that this song could not be severed before it was done.
As if it was curious at the company, the music careened towards her. It was so beautiful it had tears spilling down Bells’ face, which began to lift, sparkling, as the vibrations in the cathedral spiralled and whipped.
