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Chapter 3

Bird People

~DOLLY~

This island is messing with me. Velis didn’t hear anything, making me wonder if it could have been a dream. Maybe a magical dream. It was the same voice as last time—familiar, but off. And it called me ‘Lolly’? It has to be one of the Reilhanders in disguise, and I refuse to let them ruin my time with Vel. I push it from my mind and slip off the lid of an enormous golden garment box Velis just pulled from the void. Inside is a note on scarlet paper with white writing I can’t read, slipped beneath a shimmery ribbon and some rose-colored tissue paper.

“This is from the manor?” I ask Velis, who stands nearby with his arms folded, dressed in his classic white T-shirt and gray sweats, his tan feet cutely exposed.

Even without understanding the alphabet, I can tell the handwriting is neat. Velis waves his fingers to translate the message:

Bring me something! –Bell

“Bellamy sent it with Evaris,” Vel explains. “After we got the gala invite, I asked her to pull something together for you. I figured you wouldn’t know what circus attire is.”

“Circus?” I set the note aside and untie the ribbon, revealing an explosion of bright, flowy fabric. I gasp, “Is this a costume party?”

I pull the dress from the fancy box. It’s like an exotic bird. Parrot-green bodice. A high neckline connected to a choker. The skirt is a flowy, swishy, tropical blend of mango orange, lime green, golden yellow, and passion pink, with bright green feathers decorating the hip and little pops of plum hidden throughout the fabric.

“Go out on the balcony and turn around,” I instruct Velis.

“Bossy, Master,” he mutters, though clearly enjoying it, and maintains eye contact all the way until he steps out onto the balcony adjacent to our suite. I wait for him to turn, with the garments Bellamy sent hidden in my lap.

I don’t want Velis to see everything before I try it all on.

“There’s more?” he says, curiosity piqued.

“STOP SPYING AND WORK ON THAT EQUATION.”

“Egh! It’s hard to tell if you’re saying it out loud or if I’m only feeling it,” he grumbles to the railing.

I scold him through his apologies and slip into the gown. The bodice molds to my body like warm wax before a mirror that’s just appeared, courtesy of my thoughtful boyfriend. I fight to keep my thoughts from Vel’s reach as my hair and makeup are magically done the second the clothing touches my body—an enchanted package deal. My hair is intentionally wavy, my lips the color of dark wine.

Feathery cuffs drape my shoulders as I draw sleek black gloves up past my elbows theatrically. The gown is floor-length, with a slit that goes nearly to the thigh, but that’s okay because a pair of chic black tights manifest to match the gloves, plus fancy booted heels I’ll need Velis to enchant if I hope to walk.

It is a costume party. Possibly a masquerade .

In a separate, smaller box tied up in the same ribbon as the first, there’s an accompanying masquerade-type eye mask, shaped like a perfect cat eye with paradise-hued feathers bursting from the forehead like it belongs in a Mardi Gras parade.

And it feels expensive.

If this is a costume, it’s a celebrity-grade costume. The fabric shifts and changes color when it moves, like the thread’s been bewitched.

The whole ensemble has an elegant fanfare. I feel like a jungle flower come to life. I look like a fancy fucking bird woman.

Velis snorts loudly enough for me to know he felt or heard or empathed the thought.

“Turn around, you butt.”

“Butt? How old are you, Mast...ter?” His pale eyes connect with mine, tracing down my body from the exposed shoulders to the structured bust. Like a lovestruck date at prom, he utters, “I’ve never seen you in circus attire.”

This is common attire here?

He’s before me in a flash, gently pushing a lock of perfectly placed hair from my cheek, his familiar scent of security enveloping me as he eyes me over. There’s something about the way his mouth effortlessly confesses, “Wow.”

“Vel.”

He’s taking in every inch like it’s a once-in-a-lifetime sight. It’s gazes like these that still make me tuck my hair behind my ear.

“Remind me to thank Bellamy,” he says, taking my silk-gloved hand in his like we’re royalty. “I’m sorry we have to do this shit. We’re visiting during a native holiday. It’s important that we honor the invite.”

“Of course, Vel. You don’t have to explain.”

Even on holiday rebellion, he’s still taking his job seriously. I’m not sure if it’s all that extra magic or the fact that he’s turning twenty-three in a few days, but he seems to be maturing, doing everything he can to hold on to all his dreams at once.

He’s such an overachiever.

“Where’s your mask?” I ask .

“I’m waiting.”

“For what?”

“You to blink.”

It just so happens that I do blink, maybe from confusion, and on the other side, Velis has transformed into a sharp and dapper suit, cut lean and paired with tight black dress pants that make his already tall legs look even longer than normal. And there’s a pair of dressy little boots. Not little in a literal sense. Genies tend to have endowed extremities.

The vest and layers beneath the suit coat are tropically vibrant to match my gown, further enhanced by a cluster of live flowers in the chest pocket where a pocket square would normally sit. His tie is long like a tie-tie but bowed like a bowtie, lying against a crisp white dress shirt with a modern collar.

He looks totally cute. Especially tall. Especially lean.

His hair is blue now, I assume because we’re about to attend something official.

I smooth a hand up his lapel as I take a moment to admire him. There’s something about feeling his body through the layers of a suit. “Don’t you have a mask?”

“I’ll show you mine after you show me yours.”

“Tie it for me?” I hand the feathered mask to him and relish the brush of his fingers as they clumsily try not to mess up my hair while knotting the bow. It all happens in slow motion. The orbs of pollen catching sunbeams through the windows. The patterns of stained glass reflecting on the ground.

I turn to face Vel, and now he’s in a mask too. His is simple and black, but the real showstopper is that hat: an attractive black top hat adorned with an arrangement of spurting feathers and playful flowers on one side of the brim—sunburst orange, citrus green, and a dash of hibiscus fuchsia.

Not going to lie, but he looks an eensy bit like if the Riddler and Poison Ivy had a grown villain son.

And that son was also Tuxedo Mask.

I dig it .

Velis looks like he wants to say something but is refraining.

“Characters. Fictional. We can watch them later.”

He gives me a flirty smirk through the mirror—because I’m technically also reading his mind and doing the same thing to him. And I know it, okay, Velis? I’m not sure how to act when sharing a brain with the person I love—while he’s adjusting a pair of debonair black gloves that are much shorter than mine. “I love human movie night.”

“I know you do. And I love circus attire.”

“Do you?” He’s a little surprised, maybe not sure if I’m joking.

I’m now convinced we’re meant to be a parrot couple in human/genie form. It’s kinda sexy. Not to mention seeing those magical eyes through the holes of a mask.

“My mother loved it too,” he says with fondness. “We have a holiday in the cool season. Children wear circus attire. My mother went all-out. Not just for me—my brothers too. They hated it. It was great.”

“I wish you had photos.”

I don’t mean it literally, but then again, maybe I do.

Either way, his eyes don’t light up. “Sorry, Doll. I can’t grant that wish. It’s way too big. Even for your soul.” He stops and suavely slips an arm around my naked shoulders. “But I’m sure we can think of another way to show you. Let me think on it.”

I smile at him through the mirror, in our matching masks and bird-person costumes, then think through the story he just offhandedly told me.

I’ve come to understand that Vel’s mother was his protector. She was trying to instill good in those kids. They built up lots of hatred toward her, fueled by their jealous, sadistic mother, and they took it all out on Velis as soon as his mother passed.

Worst of all, their father let it happen so Velis could be used as bait, because his life’s mission is to right his past wrongs, even if it means making new wrongs in the present.

Velis is quiet beside me, but it’s like he’s trying to push his thoughts into me through the mirror. And then, after a lengthy pause, he finally says, “I—”

“It’s fine. Until we have the equation to selectively turn off your access, it’s probably best not to resist.”

“Thank Maka. I want to be respectful, but fuck, it’s exhausting. Arrik told me something the night he left. Before he went back in time to do... whatever he did to you.”

Don’t love the wording, but go on.

“He said everything Father’s done has been to keep us from being ‘eternally hunted.’ He said those emotional triggers have to be authentic or they don’t stick. And that Father must think highly of you to be able to break my brothers.”

“I truly don’t understand why he’s so focused on me. I’m not doing anything but literally existing. Also, I’m pretty sure I’ve had little to no effect on Jeb.”

Velis takes my arm like a proper Makayen gentleman. “Yet somehow, you seem to be what everyone needs at any given time. My father keeps risking our lives for his own version of the greater good.”

“He must have a lot of faith that we’ll survive. Plan Z: we start being incompetent. Make him go pick on someone else.”

My genie presses his forehead to mine, a quiet moment of warmth passing between us. It feels like so many good things, and it’s true that each day feels better than the last, like we’re taking it all easier.

Learning to be happy while in survival-mode may not be ideal. But at least in this pocket of time, I’m happy.

“Me too,” he whispers, fingers trickling down the bend of my back like a raindrop down a railing. The sky through the curtain-drawn balcony is dusky purple. Blueberry night is setting, and the air tastes like fruity dessert. The mirror disappears. “We should get going. Just so you know, I’m masking your odor. I don’t want to draw unnecessary attention to you. We won’t hide your features, but we won’t send out signals either.”

Odor signals sounds gross .

“You smell too good. It’s a security risk,” he clarifies.

But I like him sniffing after me.

“Obviously. I’m allowing myself all senses to enjoy this night,” he adds.

He’s playful, continually adjusting his outfit. He’s anxious and modest enough not to realize he looks damn good.

“ Pfft , what are you talking about? I know I look good.”

“Will there be dancing?”

“Will there be—?” He interrupts himself with a charming, goofy face, like it’s the most outlandish thing I could have asked. “There will be more than dancing. Stay close to me. And if you lose sight of me, summon me. While I can’t fully teleport while inside, I can still summon myself to your side as my master—part of the terms of our arrangement.”

I’m pretty sure I never agreed to any terms.

“These senate parties can get wild,” he adds.

He seems excited. I’m getting excited too.

He curls me in for a hug, and with a familiar rush of magic, teleports us out of one haven and into another. The world blinks around us, and when my vision clears, we’ve landed within an enormous...

Birdcage?

I always knew we’d encounter a large fucking bird.