Lira banged on Atlas's door until her hand throbbed, the leather bracelet clenched in her fingers. The little girl answered mid-knock and Lira nearly hit her in the head with a balled fist.
Atlas glanced at Lira's half-raised arm. "Everything all right?" she asked.
After her talk with Bebinn, Lira had fled to her room in a state of panic, tearing at her hair until it was hanging haphazard from her braid and screaming into her pillow until her face was beet red. Finally, her frenzy had brought her down the hall to Atlas's room.
"No!" Lira snapped. "It's not." She stormed into the room, pacing to the far end of the threadbare carpet and whirling on her heel. She brandished the bracelet, its jade stones winking mutely in the candlelight.
"What's wrong?" asked Atlas. "What is that?"
"It's something to keep me from becoming a deranged monster like Baleros," said Lira, breathing heavily.
Atlas's face puckered in puzzlement. "Lira, why are you so angry? Isn't that a good thing? You don't have to be afraid anymore."
"Did you tell her? About my fears—did you tell her?" Lira demanded.
Atlas made to guide Lira to a chair, but Lira pulled away from her grasp. Atlas gave an annoyed huff. "Yes, I mentioned your fears to Bebinn I could see how much it was troubling you and I thought she could help."
Lira clapped a hand to her forehead. "Why did you do that?" Lira asked, even though Atlas had clearly just explained. She walked backward until her legs hit the bed and she sat down. The beaded bracelet was pressing into her eye, but she didn't care. The bed sank an inch when Atlas sat next to her. A small hand alighted on her shoulder.
"Lira, I don't understand why you're so upset. I was just trying to help."
Lira took a deep shuddering breath and spoke into her hand. "Bebinn wants to experiment with the music on other spirits. She thinks because the kelpie responded to it, she can use it to capture others as well. The bracelet is the price for me helping her."
Lira hadn't thought it could get much worse than what she already did, but Bebinn always seemed to prove her wrong. It wasn't that she cared about the spirits necessarily—her emotional capacity had been maxed out on the stolen kids—but if her soul was already on its way to being damaged, what would Bebinn's experiments do to it? Despite her promise that the bracelet would save her?
She knew Atlas hadn't intended for it to turn out this way. But again, Lira's fate had been determined by someone else's choices. First her parents, then Genzel, Bebinn, and now Atlas.
"I was only trying to help," said Atlas again. Her voice cracked ever so slightly. Lira looked up and saw that the girl's eyes had a glassy tint. In all her years here, Lira had never seen Atlas's mask crack. She reached out and took the little girl's hand.
"You couldn't have known," she sighed. Her anger cooled and fear seeped back in.
"I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you," promised Atlas. "And now, you have protection. Bebinn could've forced you to comply without giving that to you." She took the bracelet from Lira, who had a sudden desire to snatch it back as if her soul would decay and fester the minute she let it go. A horrible thought had dawned on Lira.
"Bebinn only gave that to me because she needs me. I'm no use to her if I'm a twisted monster."
Atlas handed the bracelet back, her crimson eyes somber. "Don't worry. If she needs you enough to care about preserving your soul that's a good thing. Otherwise she would have—" Atlas trailed off.
"Done me in like Baleros?" Lira snorted and pulled the bracelet over her hand, pulling it snug around her wrist. "Some comfort."
"Don't underestimate the position that puts you in. Bebinn needs you—this proves it. She doesn't hold as many strings as you think."
Atlas patted her knee, soft as the flutter of a bird's wings, and rose to walk over to her desk. "Besides, you'll get another of your wishes."
"What are you talking about?"
"If you are going to be working closely with Bebinn, it's likely you'll work closely with Lydia as well."
"Oh," said Lira. She had forgotten all about the need to see the secretive servant. "Yeah, right."
"I'll ask Mitsi to make you some tea," offered Atlas. "Everything will look brighter in the morning after a good rest."
#
Owen was sitting in the dining room picking at an afternoon snack when Atlas stepped into the room. She walked over to the small service window that connected the kitchen to the dining room and spoke to Mitsi. He nodded once and turned to the stove.
Atlas wandered over to Owen's table, her fingers trailing lazily along the smooth wooden surface. She came to a stop across from him and sat down. "How are you, Owen?"
"Oh, living out my dream of being a spiritual wood-carver," he said. He held out his bowl of mixed nuts, which Atlas politely declined. She knotted her fingers together instead.
"For some people, this is a dream," she said.
Owen swallowed, his eyes watering as a dried bit of cashew caught in his throat. He coughed and took a sip of water. "Lira told me about your—what I mean is, I understand why you said what you said that day. I'm sorry for losing my temper. Even if I do disagree."
Atlas spread her hands, revealing the sharp red marks fragmenting her copper skin. Owen resisted the urge to look at the marks on his own hands. "Agree to disagree," she said, giving him the ghost of a smile.
"Right," said Owen. He pretended to search the bowl for another cashew, not knowing what to say next. He was generally good at small-talk having perfected the art to distract people from staring at Ethan, but Atlas didn't seem the type to make idle conversation. She spoke with a purpose.
"There are those who don't realize it until later," she continued. "For some it can be a blessing in disguise."
"For some, maybe," said Owen mildly.
"You may think I'm an outlier, but the truth is everyone here has a reason for being here. Everyone has the opportunity of being happy here. They wouldn't be here if their lives weren't missing something."
"And they didn't have very specific talents," Owen pointed out. He didn't want this to dissolve into another argument and he certainly didn't want Atlas taking stabs at what was supposedly missing from his life.
"There are other wood carvers, other musicians, other cooks," said Atlas. "But there's a reason why we were chosen. We were given a chance to start over. How many people get that chance?"
"It's not a chance if its not a choice. It's not a choice if it's by force."
Atlas sighed and took a handful of nuts. She rolled them between her hands like a sand shaker but didn't bring them to her mouth. "Some people don't know they have a choice. It sits in front of them, waiting, fading until it disappears. Sometimes, people need help with choices they can't see."
Owen popped another almond in his mouth, the sound of it cracking between his teeth filling his ears and blocking out Atlas's voice momentarily. They would never agree on this and the more they went around in conversation circles, the more likely it was to spiral down into a fight. He was saved from trying to find a diplomatic exit when Mitsi came over and set a mug of steaming tea in front of Atlas. Despite his instincts telling him to let it go, he directed his next question at the chef.
"Mitsi, if you had a choice, would you stay here or go home?"
Atlas's eyes flashed to Mitsi who had half-turned to walk away and he glanced back at her as he turned slowly back around. The question seemed to catch him off guard, but he tried to hide it with a strained smile.
"Is that a trick question? Am I on candid camera?"
"Nope," said Owen easily. "Just friendly conversation."
Mitsi shifted his weight from one foot to the other and his fingers tapped against his leg as though his hands didn't know what to do if they weren't cooking. "I do miss home," he said slowly. "But this place isn't so bad most of the time. All I ever wanted to do was cook, and I get to do that here. But, it would be nice to see my parents...my brother..." Mitsi trailed off. He glanced at Atlas again and shrugged before walking back towards the kitchen.
Atlas moved toward her, the sound drawing Owen's attention back to her. "I didn't really come to talk about you," said Atlas as thought Mitsi had never been there. "I came to talk about Lira."
"What about her? Is she okay?" Owen asked. All other thoughts were suddenly pushed from his mind. She hadn't yet returned from her talk with Bebinn and the longer she was gone the more he worried.
Atlas smiled. "I'm glad you care for her. She needs all the friends she can get."
"What do you mean?"
"Lira had a very lonely home life. Her greatest strength is also her greatest weakness. She feels like an outsider even within her own family. I've been trying to make her see that she doesn't have to be lonely. And you help—to an extent."
"What extent?"
"You two obviously get along well. You make her see that she can have friends. But you also remind her of where she came from."
"Yes, our world," Owen emphasized.
Atlas ignored him. "Would you consider yourself Lira's friend?" she asked instead.
"Of course," said Owen.
Atlas stood up, the mug of tea clasped between her hands. "Then answer this last question. Who will be her friend if she goes home?"