Page 31

A ll Soren would tell me was what I needed to wear for our first practice: a light top and loose cotton gauchos so I could move easily.

I did as I was told and put my hair up in a loose bun, then slid on my robe to walk from my flat to the main house. The sky was dark and foreboding, and the wind had an icy sharpness, so I jogged through the gardens.

"I'm in the front room!" Soren called when I came in the backdoor. I don't know if he heard me or if he just felt my presence the way I felt his.

There was a subtle electric current in the air whenever he was near, but it was different than what I typically felt around enchanters. It was more palpable, and the hair stood on the back of my neck.

My arms were covered in goosebumps by the time I reached the front room. All the furniture had been pushed to the side, and Soren stood in the center, his back to me as he toyed with brightly colored fabrics piled at his feet.

For the first time, he was wearing a sleeveless shirt, and his tattoos were on display. Arcane symbols and magik sigils of all the incantations he had mastered were marked onto his skin, all down his arms and shoulders, even on his chest and back.

At first glance, they appeared solid black, but on closer inspection, they were iridescent shades of midnight blue, dark evergreen, and deep violet, shifting between all three. When he conducted magik, they emitted a soft glow.

Soren finally turned to face me, a crooked smile already lighting his handsome face. “You look healthy and rested. Are you feeling up for a workout?”

I nodded. “I’m good, and I am ready to go. What do you have in mind? Have you decided what we’re going to do?”

“We are collaborating, so I haven’t decided anything yet.” He dropped the fabric and stepped closer to me. “We’re deciding all this together . But I do have some ideas and some questions.”

“Questions?” I echoed.

“You’re afraid of heights, correct?”

“They make me dizzy and nervous.”

“Is that all the time, or just when you’re using the silks?” he asked. “Were you distressed when I used levitation with you before?”

“I’m never fond of heights, but there is a difference between levitating with an enchanter and climbing on my own,” I clarified. “On the silks, I am relying entirely on myself and my own strength. But with levitation…”

Levitation wasn't something a muse could do solo. An enchanter was required to channel magik, which could affect physical reality. Muses worked primarily in illusions, glittering lights, and dazzling spectacles, but nothing with substance. The show was the conduit, transferring the magik of the physical world to the ethereal one beyond ours.

But with a true master of the arcane like an enchantrix, the magik could be guided into a singular force that could affect the physical world. Moving objects, levitating bodies, and the like.

“Levitation is different for you,” Soren supplied when I lapsed into silence. “How come?”

“Because I’m not the one in control,” I confessed. “I don’t trust myself, but I do trust you. I know you won’t let me fall, and if I do, you’ll catch me.”

His smile deepened, and something flickered in his eyes. “That is true, and I’m glad you trust me. But we’ll need to work on your self-doubt.”

“I don’t think we have enough time to tackle that by Samonend,” I said.

"Fair enough. Do you want to hear some of the ideas I have been playing around with?" he asked.

“Yes, please!”

“Aerial silks but with levitation,” he announced excitedly. “You’ll do a scarf dance with magik and lights, and as you dance, I’ll levitate you higher into the air. Not too high, not anywhere near what’s expected with climbing the silks. More like 5-6 feet, just above the heads of the people.”

“Can I keep my eyes closed?” I asked.

“If that’s what you prefer,” he said. “And as long as you keep your eyes open to help me choreograph this.”

“You want my input on the routine itself?” I asked in surprise. Enchantrices usually decided the routines themselves and dictated them to the muses.

“Of course.”

“Okay. So where do we begin?” I asked.

"I usually start with the music." Soren began humming a low, somber sound, and he waved his fingers in the air.

Candles were lit all around the room to combat the morning darkness brought on by the dark clouds. Now, the flames flickered before glowing even brighter, and the air was filled with the sound of an orchestral arrangement of the same tune he'd been humming.

"I put this arrangement together last night, but we can change any part of it," he explained. "Since it's for Samonend, I picked sections of Lupo Paluhart's 'Elegy,' but I tried to lighten it with a playful undertone."

Paluhart's "Elegy" was a piece of classical music that most muses were familiar with. It was a dense composition, with melancholy vocals singing ancient incantations. As it began to play, I noticed the changes that Soren had made to it. Pizzicato strings added a touch of whimsy, and woodwinds introduced a playful melody.

An elegy was traditionally a subdued funeral hymn, which was why it was a good fit for Samonend. The festival honored our ancestors and embraced the impending darkness of the coming winter. But Samonened was still a festival, a celebration of both life and death, of light and dark.

Soren's additions reflected the duality of the Samonend and made Paluhart's legendary piece infinitely more danceable.

While the music played, I closed my eyes and started swaying, letting it flow through me. I felt Soren's hand on mine, which startled me into opening my eyes. He slipped a few long, colorful satin scarves into my hand.

“Keep dancing,” he instructed. “See where this moment takes you.”

So I closed my eyes again, focusing solely on the music and the moment. Even here inside his house, the air felt charged, like a thunderstorm chasing the wind.

Soren began singing, his beautiful baritone soaring through the updated requiem, and I let it carry me around the room. The balls of my feet brushed against the cool floor, and my body felt weightless and free.

I could feel the fabric of the scarves dancing around me like a breeze as I twirled. I flicked my wrist, throwing the scarf high in the air, and with my eyes still closed, the scarves found their way back to my hand at the fevered crescendo.

The music started to slow, and my steps became more deliberate. Finally, I collapsed to the floor on my knees. I tossed the scarves back over my shoulders so they would land on my back like wings at rest after a flight.

“How did that feel?” Soren asked while my forehead was still resting against the floor.

I waited a beat to answer, lifting my head to see him, hoping to get a read on how he thought I had done. But his expression was blank, and his hand rested on his chin as he stared down at me.

“It felt… good ?”

“Was that a question?”

“I don’t know how to answer.” I squirmed, growing embarrassed and certain that I’d done a terrible job. “How do you think I did?”

“Please don’t flip it back on me like that. I asked you how it felt because I want to know how you felt. I can’t answer that for you,” he said. “I only want your honesty.”

Something about that shattered me. There was no response I could give that would make him happy except for the truth. How could I even know what that was when I never trusted my own feelings or thoughts because they were usually wrong – according to Adora, anyway.

But knowing that anything but honesty would disappoint Soren, I could only say what I felt, whatever that may be. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth, and I truly didn’t know what I would say until the words came tumbling out.

"It felt good but rough. I stumbled through tempo changes a few times, and we need to develop a clear transition to keep my momentum. My footwork was indelicate during the piece, but that will get better over time as long as the choreography matches the precision of the music. The crescendo will be perfect for something more complex if we go aerial so that I can incorporate more flips and rolls." I took a deep breath and opened my eyes again to see him grinning at me. "So that's what I thought. How about you?"

“I loved it!” Soren might as well have said I love you for how it struck me. I was suddenly lightheaded and giddy and filled with butterflies.

“And I loved your ideas even more,” he went on. “You’re right that it’s rough, but already, I can see that we can create a real showstopper here.”

"You think so?" I asked, and I didn't even mind that I had a dopey smile on my face.

"Yes, absolutely!" He was exuberant when he took my hand and pulled me to my feet. "Let's try it again, but we'll go much slower so we can label the steps and define it more clearly. But I really liked your instincts, so I'll follow that."

Within a few days, Soren and I had the choreography worked out, but we still needed to incorporate my magik elements. They were always the final addition once everything else was down.

Truthfully, I couldn't believe how quickly it was all coming together. This was my first time working with an enchanter who welcomed input from a muse, and in the beginning, it felt strange expressing my opinion to him like that. It genuinely did seem to make him happy, and it seemed to improve the performance.

I won't deny that my first instinct was to hold back and shy away from expressing myself. But even when we disagreed, Soren made it clear that he preferred that over blind subservience.

The only problem was that I was realizing that maybe I preferred it, too.