Page 59 of The Unseen Hour

I contented myself with bird watching for several more minutes before he let out a deep sigh.

“I didn’t want to do it,” Orion said. I rose, moving over to him and sitting on the ground. “I didn’t want to sing souls from their bodies, leaving them like empty husks for their families to find. Instead I’m stuck with a job that’s even worse.”

I didn’t want to say anything, afraid of breaking the moment.

“When Death showed up, I was only too happy to help her. We all die eventually, but the Unseen Hour is cruel. The song snares and entices people to their doom. It’s a beautiful and vile weapon. And I’ve been at its forefront each time, leading the Shades as they create trails of frozen bodies. Just as guilty for guiding them as if I’d sung out the souls myself. And I’ve started to worry. What if we return during this hour, and you …”

“I just won’t sing. I’ll keep my mouth shut,” I insisted.

Orion let out a humorless laugh.

“I think you’ll find you’re wrong, Starlight. It’s like a compulsion, the song. When we hit the surface of the world it bursts forth, whether you want it to or not. Music that needs to escape. All the pain and suffering of being separated from your home over the past year piled up into one hour. It’s like the needs and emotions of the Shades are tamped down throughout the year, and the hour is their only release. They can’t help the need to free it. When we return here, they’re calmer. More subdued, like you’ve seen them so far.”

“And you?”

“Me?”

“How do you feel? Does it help you, being able to sing?”

There was no shame in it, when he couldn’t help it. I didn’t want him to pile any more suffering on top of what he’d already endured, but he shook his head.

“No. It doesn’t help me. I’m aware enough of what we’ve done to come back choking on my own guilt each time. As soon as the hour, and my subsequent meeting with Charon, is over, I typically shut myself in the cottage for days.”

One of the tree hoppers made its way back over, chirruping. I held out a hand and it hopped on my palm, still clasping the hairpin in its beak.

“You’re doing all you can to help end the hour. No one could have done more. Don’t cast yourself as the villain, Ry. You don’t deserve that.”

“I’d make a very morose villain. Nothing like what you read about. Large personality and power. Cruelty with flair.”

I laughed, the bird cawing along with me. Orion gave me the tiniest hint of a smile in response.

“You’d never do as a villain. More like the determined and adventurous lead, throwing yourself into exploration and new experiences. A bit jaded, perhaps, but more than capable. Like the pirate captain in your books. Now that was a good choice. I’m glad you brought it back. I’m sure it's a loss to the library it came from but well worth the thievery.”

He busied himself with the holster again, blushing and avoiding my eyes.

“Actually, it was already mine. No one else has read it. I wrote it myself.”

My jaw dropped open. It took me a good three attempts before I was able to organize my thoughts enough to respond.

“You wrote? But it’s so good! Not that I’m surprised, I just didn’t realize you liked to write.” Maybe a family trait, given his brother’s diary? “Is there more?”

“I started a few things, but I abandoned them all over time. I wasn’t as excited for it once I got down here. I could never quite get the stories right. I could never come up with a happy ending. It always eluded me.”

I gulped, inching even closer.

“It doesn’t have to.”

“Maybe not,” he agreed, setting the holster aside and grabbing one of my hands.

The longer I was in the Ether, the closer I wanted to get to him. I’d always enjoyed my own company. Even with Bram, or Charlotte, eventually the feeling of someone other than myself in my vicinity became too much. Like an itch that had been ignored too long and demanded to be addressed. I had to find my own space.

Not with Orion. He’d been summoned by Charon once more since my arrival, and I’d spent the entire two nights he was gone wishing he’d come back.

If it hadn’t been for my search, Charon, and my concern for those I loved and had left in Emrys, I’d have to admit I liked it in the Ether. Orion was a large part of why. Always ready with new information about our surroundings, but still striving to learn more. Curious, intelligent. And apparently just as poetic as R. and his diary.

I knew our situation wasn’t sustainable. When we returned home, I’d have to contend with my family, and possibly Bellamy, and who knew what story Orion would have to tell people. Unless everyone became aware of what we’d done, unless we had proof, we’d never be believed.

He might still be lost to his estate.