Redemption (20 page)

I inch my hand forward and meet his. He lifts it up to his mouth and kisses it.

A large hairy guy with an official laminated pass around his neck interrupts us.

They talk in whispers for a while and Ramtin sighs and turns to me.

“I’m needed elsewhere. It was great to make your acquaintance.” He walks away.

After adding Guillaume’s name to the guest list, I return to Lucy and Trick and time flies as I work at deflecting thousands of questions about what happened with Ramtin. When Guillaume finally shows up, I feel a little bit better. Safer. Lucy gives me a meaningful look but I ignore her. I need to stay Zen.

“Did Garnier come?” I don’t know how I feel about him confronting Ramtin or something.

“My entire family is here. In the audience, in case you need us. We’re worried about you.” His voice softens. “I’m worried about you.” His words and the way he said them make me feel even safer. Everything will be okay. Perfect, even.

I see Mom come up from the end of the hall and resign myself to the fact that I’ll have to introduce her to Guillaume.

“I’ll introduce you to Mom.” I lean in to whisper and accidentally brush my cheek against his. “I didn’t get a chance to warn you, but Mom is a bit crazy. She has her reasons … and she means well.”

“She’s crazy?”

“Well, she’s protective for one thing. She can also be a bit negative … okay, so a lot negative. She’ll be on her best behavior tonight, though. She’s on band-manager duty.”

I recognize the twist to Mom’s mouth instantly. It’s her
I’m-not-impressed-but-I’m-trying-to-control-myself
look.

I get it over with. “Guillaume, this is my mom, Lorraine. Mom, this is my friend, Guillaume.”

“Guillaume. It’s not often that Aude introduces me to new friends. You must have made quite an impression.”

“It is my pleasure to meet you, Ms.—”

“Lorraine,” she says.

“Lorraine,” he repeats.

Before we know it, it’s time to go on stage. I give Mom and Guillaume a quick hug and wonder what Mom’s going to make out of it. I’ll have some explaining to do after the show.

The stage is dark and we take our positions. The crowd’s hushed, but I spy a sea of people in front of me and the adrenaline kicks in. This is an ocean of potential fans.

The lights flash on, the crowd roars. Goosebumps crawl along my arms. This is it. My dream is finally coming true.

Lucy kicks it into gear and we follow her lead. My hands are sweaty and I’m terrified my fingers will slip, but I nail every single chord. I’m on fire. I scan the crowd for my
protection
, but I can’t identify Garnier amongst the masses. I’ve never even met the others, so there’s no way I can spot them. Guillaume watches me from the stage wings, and my eyes lock on his. Gray and familiar. Comforting. I wait for my cue and sing “You Left Me Here
.”

Once we start “Serpents in the Sky,” Trick takes out the water drums and taps them in the rhythm we figured out together. I can feel the energy building from the crowd. They’re warming up to us. I realize that, despite my nerves, I never really had a doubt. This has always been Lucid Pill’s destiny. In a few years, we will be as big as Fetid Crimson.

A cold shiver runs along my arms, I instinctively turn toward the side of the stage, the side opposite where Guillaume is watching me, and I see him—Ramtin. The smile on his face says he’s enjoying himself, but I wish I could get a better look at his eyes. I blink and focus on my chords, but I’ve practiced so much that I could rock this song in my sleep. I walk around the stage a little, playing shoulder to shoulder with Lucy, and when I shimmy down to the ground, the energy rises from the crowd. I can almost see it.

I
can
see it, actually. Their energy is the essence Guillaume talked about, and it’s strong and brilliant. It pulsates to my music.

Then the light flickers. I hold my breath and continue playing. Another flickering and the crowd stares up to the ceiling. I follow their gazes, and nearly miss the next set of chords. I swallow past a lump in my throat and try to continue playing. Suddenly the music takes all my concentration and I focus on what I’m doing. I focus on my feet. I focus on anything except for the hundreds of black birds perched on The Factory’s rafters.

The show goes on, and the birds remain. They occasionally fly in front of the lights, throwing long shadows on the crowd, but stay mostly still.

Between songs, I run off stage to grab a bottle of water and Ramtin stops me.

“Like my birds?” he asks.

I remember Guillaume’s warning and back away from him. “What … what are they?” I ask.

“Just a neat prop. I thought you would appreciate them.”

If indeed these birds have been brought in as a prop, it’s a pretty elaborate one. And if I’d been forewarned about this, I might even have found it cool. But they worry me.

I go back on stage and the crowd cheers. They really love us. Their energy makes the last three songs of our set go by in a flash, and if I nitpick, I may have made a couple of tiny mistakes, but the audience doesn’t seem to have noticed. I make mental note to put the proceeds of this gig toward recording a Lucid Pill album. We could have sold these at the entrance tonight and made a killing.

Mom greets me backstage with a huge bear hug. She also has a little package that she hands me. In it is a ring with a clear stone.

“What is this?”

“It used to belong to your grandmother, and before that, to her sister. It’s probably worthless but it’s been passed down in the family and I thought it was high time I gave it to you.”

“It’s pretty. I love it, Mom.” I try to slip it on my finger but it’s too small.

“I never stopped to think it may not fit you. We’ll have to get it fitted.” She takes it back and pockets it. “Sorry, Odd.”

“That’s fine. I can’t wait for it to fit me, though.”

Mom takes off to get us some drinks, and Lucy comes around the corner with Guillaume and Garnier in tow.

“Garnier asked if I could bring him backstage and I didn’t see the harm,” she says before joining Mom in the bar.

I hug Garnier first and then move on to Guillaume. His embrace feels different than his brother’s. Heavier, like he has a lifetime of worries weighing him down. But there’s warmth to it too. He gives me an extra squeeze before letting go.

“I’m proud of you, Aude,” he says.

I’m tingling from the sensation of his body against mine. “Thanks.” I grin. I want to pour over all the littlest detail of the show and share my high with him, but there’s something else more pressing.

“I think Ramtin may be up to something,” I say.

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Garnier says.

“What’s your history with him anyways?” I ask.

“It goes back a long way, to when I visited the Persian courts. I remember him as more of an annoyance than anything. I just don’t like him. For one thing, where is his witch?”

“Do all gargoyles have witches?” I ask. “I know you guys did to transfer essence, or whatever. But isn’t there another way? Isn’t this why you guys are studying me?”

“Wow, brother, I’m impressed. You really did tell her everything,” Garnier tells Guillaume. “We’ve never heard of it happening before, but we are alive right now, and without a witch. So, actually yes, it is an option.”

“And he could have information we need,” Guillaume says.

“Information is one thing you’ll be hard pressed to get from Ramtin. Rumor was that he kept his secrets very well,” Garnier says.

The two boys continue discussing strategies to talk to Rantim and I find a spot to sit on the floor and relax after the show. The adrenaline is starting to wear down, and I’m feeling sleepy.

Mom and Lucy show up with a bunch of bottles containing sports drinks whose unnatural, bright colored liquids almost glow in the backstage lighting.

I grab a red one and twist it around in my hands for some time. I’m about to ask Mom if we can go home when I hear someone announcing Fetid Crimson. Everyone rushes to the side of the stage where they can get a better view of the headliner’s performance, and I drag my feet following them.

When Ramtin runs to the center stage, the cheering is so loud they actually overpower his introduction.

30

Aude

A few songs into their set, I realize I can’t like Fetid Crimson’s music like I used to. Lucy and Trick are rocking out from the sideline and I envy them their immunity to reality. For them, the world is still what it’s always been and Fetid Crimson is still a miracle prodigy band whose talents almost seem supernatural.

For me, nothing is
almost
supernatural anymore. It just is. And knowing the centuries Ramtin has had to prepare for this rock-star career of his, I’m not impressed anymore. Anyone can be this good given that much time. The illusion is shattered and I wonder what other insanely talented role models of mine are practiced fakes.

The show crescendos and the succession of songs build up to something that has the crowd tense with anticipation. I try to remain unaffected, but goosebumps crawl on my arms and I feel a tingle in my spine. I eye the de Rouen brothers and notice their hands are clenched into fists. They share a concerned look.

Guillaume leans over to whisper in my ear. “The energy in the crowd is almost palpable. It’s like he’s getting ready to harvest them, but I’ve never known it to be done with humans.”

“Would it harm them?”

“I don’t know.”

Just then, the show ends and Ramtin walks offstage. The lights go off. It doesn’t appear that anything mystical has happened at all. I feel a relief course through me, but maybe a bit of a disappointment. I’d been building up to something and I was going to go home empty-handed.

But when the crowd starts screaming for an encore, I’m nearly hit by an invisible wall of energy. The stage lights turn back on and Ramtin is standing there with a wide grin on his face.

“All right, all right,” he screams into the microphone. “One last song.”

I remain focused on his form, running along the stage. I get on my tippy toes to get a better view.

“Watch the guitar player,” Garnier whispers.

At first, I see nothing, so I concentrate harder but whatever it is, is just out of my grasp.

“I don’t see anything.”

“Look from inside there.” Guillaume places one hand on the center of my chest.

I have no idea what I’m doing, but I try to do what Guillaume says. I reach within myself and try to look out from my chest. Obviously it doesn’t work. But I keep trying, and on my fifth try, I see something. I reach deeper for my own power and suddenly all the energy around me is crystal clear. Just like I saw it while I was playing, but stronger, brighter. It’s everywhere, and a thin stream of energy is pouring from the crowd right into the guitar player.

“Is he a gargoyle too?” I ask.

“No, we can’t manipulate essence like that. That’s what we need witches for,” Guillaume answers.

“So he’s a witch?”

“Yes, I guess we’ve found his witch. He’s definitely an essentialist. Though I’ve never seen one draw from humans before.”

“I don’t like this,” Garnier says.

The final note of the song rings out to the crowd. A smattering of applause is heard, but the rest of the crowd appears to be stunned. When the lights flicker, and as the band exits the stage, the screaming starts.

My heart plummets. What is happening out there? A familiar thump causes me to twirl on the spot. A dead raven lies directly behind me. Actually, the stage is littered with dead birds. They are raining from the concert hall’s roof and falling on the screaming audience’s heads. It is complete chaos out there.

“Try to control the flow of people,”
the voice I hear is unfamiliar, belonging to neither Guillaume or Garnier.

“This could turn ugly quickly. Try to reach anybody who is calm enough to help. We must get this hall evacuated in an orderly fashion.”

“What’s happening?” I ask.

“Vincent and Antoine are trying to get control of the situation out there. We need to talk to Ramtin.” Guillaume grabs my wrist and pulls me close to him.

Lucy, Trick, and my mom, who had been standing several feet away, finally unfreeze from their shock.

“Where are you going, Aude?” Mom asks.

“I’ll be right back!” I call out, hurrying behind Guillaume so he isn’t quite dragging me.

31

Guillaume

We found Ramtin just outside of his dressing room where he was having an animated conversation with someone with a badge.

“How am I supposed to know how those damned birds got in there? Why would I purposely torment my audience like this? They pay my bills,” he said.

A few heated words are exchanged and the badged man—who turned out to be the event coordinator—disappeared in a fit of temper.