The Partisan Chronicles [Dystopia | Supernatural | Mystery]

Rhian

I got to stay in Strauss's room and sleep in his bed at the lair, which was still exactly the way he'd left it according to Riz. The sheets were tucked, though not as neatly as they might've once been. The blanket was a bit crooked, but the pillow was mostly straight. Broke my goddess-be-damned heart. But it was an all right sleep, and I woke up to Riz from the top bunk asking if I was awake. Which I wasn't, but then I was, so.

"This had best be good," I said. "I was having a nice dream."

I'd tell you what I was dreaming about but I don't rightfully remember. And let's face it, it was probably a smutty dream. I'd been having plenty of those around that time.

"I miss Drei," Riz said.

"Riz, are you in love with Strauss?"

"I think I might be in love with the both of you."

"That's a bit weird, mate."

"What can I say? I'm a loving guy," Riz replied.

I rolled my eyes, and then I rolled my whole self over to go back to sleep.

"Say a thing or do a thing?" Riz asked.

And I muttered with my face half-pressed in the pillow. "I'm not playing Say a Thing or Do a Thing first thing in the bloody morning."

"It's three in the afternoon. You've been sleeping forever."

"Aye, that'll happen when you're expecting."

"Expecting what?"

"A candlelit dinner with Councilwoman Oranen."

"What?"

"A baby, you turnip."

Riz slithered down from the top bunk. Didn't take much for his feet to hit the floor. Long legs and whatnot. He sat on the edge of my bed.

"And before you ask," I continued, still muffled or what have you, "you can't court it when it comes of age. But you can have my sister if you want."

"You have a sister?"

"Apparently."

It was quiet while Riz processed the big news. Aye, there was hope for the man yet.

"So, Sebastian Vonsinfonie. That's really something."

"You haven't heard the half of it."

I chugged a sip of water from my flask, cleared the crud out of my eyes, and joined the pain in the arse Celestian at the edge of the bed. It was right about then I told Riz everything we'd learned since he'd last seen Strauss.

"Yeah, I understand why you need my help," he said. "What else do you know about this Artist and her friends?"

"Precious little."

"Well, you know where she lives, right? Why don't we just knock on her door? Then I'll—I don't know—blow her up."

"The Trio are living together apparently."

"Even easier, get them all in one place."

"I dunno, mate. If it were that easy, reckon it'd be handled by now. We're talking centuries of whatever strange crap's going on there. But Marta grew up in Leberecht and for some reason, we have an actual historian in our circle now. First order of business getting back is to have a chat with the pair. See what they know."

"Who's Marta?"

"Michael's sister."

"Why does everybody have a sister all of the sudden?"

"Random mothers and fathers, too," I said. "Actually, now I've had a minute to think about it: this whole affair boils down to a series of fucked up family reunions."

Riz ran a hand through his hair. "I guess it's a good thing my parents are dead."

"Aye, that's one way of looking at it."

We both glanced over when there was a knock on the wall outside the curtain.

"Come in," we said, and Maryse came in and whatnot.

She let the curtain flop closed behind her. "Rhydian says you're leaving tomorrow."

"Hello to you, too, Maryse," Riz said.

I waggled my fingers.

"I want to come with you."

"Not this again." Riz shook his head.

"We don't really need a headshrinker, lass. We're at the point we need to slay some naughty Anima, not sit them down and ask them about their shitty childhoods." 'Course, little did I know, somewhere in northern Amalia, Strauss was in the middle of doing just that with Jakob. "You're not even useful to us as a telepath."

"But I know how they think," she said. "That could be useful, right?"

Well, she had me there. But not really. "We have four actual Anima working with us. Reckon that's enough skill as far as thinking like an Anima goes."

Maryse shrugged. "I thought I'd try."

"I'm not even sure you know what you're asking," I said. "Wait—this isn't because you miss Strauss, too, is it?"

The Delphi crossed her arms. "I just want to do something. And, you know, go somewhere."

"You've got access to Navs and embarks, lass. You wanna do something? Go have a lukewarm brew somewhere nice. My treat. The weather in Stracha's great year-round."

Look, I wasn't aiming to stomp on anyone's dreams of traveling to the land of literal horror, but something about the lass wasn't sitting right. I wasn't jealous. Truth is, I wasn't sure about much in life, but I was sure about one thing: Strauss was it for me, and I was it for him, and that's the end of bloody that.

"So, that's a no?" she asked.

I looked to Riz. "Stubborn, isn't she?"

He shrugged.

But never mind that. As I was saying: something about the lass was hitting a nerve. I didn't like it, but if she wanted to go to Amalia as badly as I sensed she did, she'd be going someday, with or without me. Aye, so what could I do? Keep an eye on it, is what.

"Fine, whatever," I said. "If you want to come along, Maryse, take up space, and probably die, then by all means. You know what you're getting into. Just don't become a liability."

That shut her up, and she left to pack.

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We waited a few minutes afore we started talking again, Riz even took a peek outside the curtain.

"I can't believe you caved," he whispered, just in case.

"I didn't cave."

"You caved."

"She's up to something, and I wanna know what it is."

It was quiet while Riz considered the idea, and then, "Say a thing or do a—"

I knew how that sentence would've ended, but what I didn't know was why there was panicked shouting coming from the common room.

"You're just scared—we were all scared, too," some lady said.

"Just let him go," another man yelled.

"Then take me to your embarks," some Celestian-sounding lass demanded, loudly.

Pissing hells, the Palisade Navigator.

I sighed and within a hot second, I was out the curtain and standing in the common room in the middle of the commotion. I'd seen this once or twice afore. Her victim thrashed around in place, gasping and not able to move forward, or backward, or even sideways. The Celestian had a fellow trapped in an air bubble. So you know, that wasn't healthy. Depending how upset she was, he might have a few minutes or more. She seemed pretty upset.

Reckon I'd try talking to her again.

"Lass, if you want to leave, leave. Safe to say the embarks are somewhere around the perimeter of this relatively small island. You don't have to do whatever this is."

"I can't leave," she said.

Riz, who'd just arrived by my side, bent down and whispered in my ear. "Rhydian brings down the silver portcullis when we have an unstable member."

Speaking of Rhydian, he was late to the party, showing up in the common room shortly after Riz. But the point is: silver portcullis. I was learning the lair had better defense than I realized.

Anyhow. We couldn't have the lass murdering our members, I reckon. And aye, one of our own Celestian could have brought down the air bubble, but then I imagined an all-out extravaganza of senseless violence would follow. We'd be saving that one poor sap's life for the deaths of however many others. The lass had her chance. We couldn't afford giving her two.

All in all, I was glad to see the folk at the lair had common sense and restraint. I looked to Sebastian who seemed to be anticipating the nod I'd give him.

A nod, and then, nothing but the song. Weaving through my thoughts as if it had always bloody been there. Again. First the cello, and then the piano, but there was no owl-flute that time. Just like in the crypts and that one time at the Widow's Peak, I could still process everything happening around me, but I was frozen in place. We were all frozen. The air bubble popped and the poor fellow would've fallen to the floor if Sebastian hadn't been kind enough to catch him and set him down gently.

He moved through the crowd and stopped in front of Rhydian. The composer kissed his forehead, and for a moment, my father peered around at all of us still frozen. There weren't any words, there didn't have to be. Random Father disappeared down the corridor, and nothing particularly interesting happened until the sound of the portcullis opening.

Next, Sebastian put his hand to the Navigator's cheek, and he whispered something in her ear—quiet enough even we couldn't hear it—and then he took her hand, and he led her out of the lair. Let me just say: they were gone for a while, but by the time the first door closed, we could all move again. 'Course, nobody seemed to know what to say.

The silence may as well have been an air bubble, and we were all suffocating in it. Aye, I know. I'm a goddess-be-damned literary genius.

"What was that?" someone finally asked. A Strachan, Senec combination by the looks.

I shrugged. "I didn't even know he could do it, too."

"Do what, too?" another wondered.

I shrugged again. "Whatever that was."

The common room exploded in confused chatter. From one side of the room, Rhydian came to stand with me and Riz. And from the other side of the room, Markus and Bells rushed over.

"Did you all hear the song, too?" Markus asked.

A resounding, "Yep."

"Is that an Anima thing?" Riz asked.

"Reckon it's a Vonsinfonie thing," I said.

"But why?" Markus asked.

"Who gives a fuck why," Rhydian said. "Saved some arses."

I snorted. "Finally getting on board with working with Sebastian?"

"I might be."

It was around then Rhydian ordered everybody back to business. And for me, that meant going straight to where there was a bed in case I suddenly needed a nap again.

Sebastian returned to the lair about half an hour later. He told us he took the Celestian to the grotto, packed her up in an embark, and had her drive away. Once she was far enough in the distance, he broke the link and set her free. As far as what she'd remember: she'd been out on a standard drop off job (which she was) when there was a terrible accident, one that claimed the lives of Lucas Bellamy and the Amali warrior she was with (also somewhat true). Now, it was time for her to return to Palisade with the news. Random deaths at sea happened often enough. It very likely wouldn't be scrutinized.

Obviously, the people at the lair had questions. But Sebastian refused to answer them until he'd had the chance to speak privately with Rhydian.

They didn't press the man. Imagine that.

Later that night, probably after his chat with my father, he knocked on the wall outside the curtain to mine and Riz's room. Markus and Bells were there, too. When we gave him permission to enter and whatnot, he stepped inside and had a semi-sit on the corner of the desk.

"I hope you all weren't too alarmed. It's been so long since I've toyed with such tactics. "

"So, you really were living a normal life in Delphia all this time?" I asked.

"More or less," Sebastian replied.

By now, all eyes were on the legend come to life.

"Did you even need our help at the defects' base, then?" I wondered.

"Yes and no. I did need your help to save the Animals. And Matteus, of course. As for the others? I simply don't have the vitality for violence, my friends. And despite what I've done for the sake of our sanctuary here, I'm a firm believer in autonomy. Besides, I don't want mind addled puppets to fight for this particular principle. When I met you, Rhian Sinclair, I simply saw an opportunity. I saw prospect in our partnership."

"You had us do your dirty work," I said.

"That, too."

I'll be honest, that got a chuckle out of me.

Bells, sitting at Markus's feet, glanced up to his new friend.

The bearded giant shifted in his chair.

I looked between them.

"You see?" Sebastian said. "The empath believes in me."

"Markus?" Riz asked from the top bunk, his legs dangling over the edge.

With a shrug, Markus shook his head. "I don't sense deception."

Look, I reckoned Markus's read on the situation was about as accurate as my hunch. That's to say, we were dealing with an ancient, powerful Anima and a stage performance master. Strauss and I chose to trust Sebastian, but we weren't ruling out being wrong.

"What's the deal with the song?" I asked. "Your brother's pulled that crap a few times."

"A manipulation of emotion. The songs we composed together, we wrote in a language we created. Symphonic. It is a written language, yes, and a musical language, of course. But it is a subliminal one as well. What did you all feel while you listened?"

"That I wasn't in a hurry. Like everything would be all right if I just… did nothing," Bells said.

The others nodded. I crossed my arms.

"Exactly," Sebastian said. "Time to take repose and relish in the inevitable. Everything will be as it was meant to be, my friends. Now is not a time for action, but for pause and reflection. Themes of the twenty-fifth song Zacharias and I wrote together all those years ago: The Pursuit of Peace."

"Wait, let me get this straight," Bells interjected. "Wouldn't you have to use telepathy to plant the song in people's minds, and if that's the case, how's it working on the Delphi?"

"There is no telepathy involved, Lucas Bellamy. You obey sentiment, not sound. The melody you hear while entranced comes from within."

There was a fair bit of thoughtful silence, and then leave it to Riz to break it: "Rhian says you're the first."

"And so you must wonder the answer to the most obvious question," Sebastian said. "But it will have to wait. Andrei Strauss has toiled tirelessly and tediously trying to piece everything together. It wouldn't be fair to our friend if I shared my story without him."

I was already feeling bad he was missing out on the whole sentiment not sound speech. While I nearly fell asleep sitting up, learning more about Symphonic was right up Strauss's alley. Say what you will about Sebastian Vonsinfonie, but the man was considerate.

Everybody conceded on account of they liked Strauss, too.

"So if you won't answer that," Riz said. "I have one last question."

Sebastian gestured as if to say, "Okie dokie," or what have you.

"Mister Vonsinfonie, will you play Say a Thing or Do a Thing with us?"

The thousand-whatever year old Anima pushed himself away from the desk and traveled over to the bed with a solemn expression. He paused and looked up toward Riz who was now hunched over, elbows resting on his thighs.

"Matteus Rizik," he said, "I'd be honoured to play Say a Thing or Do a Thing with you and your friends this evening."

So, that happened.

Okie dokie or what have you.