With every step Lira took down the dark staircase, her violin gained ten pounds. An acidic feeling of dread ate away at her stomach, slowly spreading to her other organs. She hadn't been to the dungeons since the first and last time she had refused to play for Bebinn. There was a dark spot in her memory of that experience, a black hole that had sucked away her memory. The only thing that remained was the paralyzing fear that returned whenever she tried to recall those three days.
The stairs leading to the dungeons were hidden behind one of the funhouse mirrors. Lira had pressed her hand against several warped panes of glass until this one had given way and she stepped through to a shadowed landing. There were sconces bolted to the wall every few feet, but the candles didn't do anything better than sputter drops of light and wax.
Thirty-six downward steps brought her to an earthen hallway that tunneled away into the ground. Her breathing echoed back to her as if she was a scuba diver, rattling and distorted. She hoped desperately this wasn't where Bebinn stored the children.
After a bend in the tunnel, the hallway opened wider. Doors and cells lined the store walls at regular intervals. It was deathly quiet.
Lira has to stifle a fit of nervous giggles. Deathly quiet in a place where everything was dead, she thought. She started forward quickly. Bebinn had told her to knock on the last door on the right. Halfway done the hall she heard a noise: the dull scrape of metal on stone.
It was coming from the cell ahead on her left. Lira's heart jumped into her throat. Even after all the years here, she was still afraid of what lurked in the dark. She crept forward and drew even with the bars, taking comfort in the fact that they stood between her and whatever monster they were containing. But when she peered into the gloom of the cell, she didn't see a monster; she saw the forest spirit she had thought was dead.
The spirit turned her head at the sound of Lira's gasp, struggling to lift her head against the weight of the metal collar that chained her to the wall. Long black scars scoured her shoulders and back where Bebinn's fury had grabbed her. Bruises bloomed around her face like the flowers that had once bloomed on her vines, which now lay withered at her feet. No new vines wrapped around her; her body was naked and bare. She was dying slowly.
Lira stared, her mouth hanging open stupidly, trying to think of something to say. A promise to help, to free her, even to sneak down food and water, whatever she needed to survive. But they both new she couldn't do that, so the spirit looked on her with dead eyes before turning away. Lira stayed a moment longer and then hurried down the hall.
#
Inside, the earthen room was lit by several braziers though the fire was curiously quite and smokeless. In the middle of the room a circular pool of water lay still like the surface of a dark moon. A length of coarse rope snaked out of the water and knotted itself to a metal stake driven into the ground. Bebinn was in the corner speaking to a tiny girl with wide brown eyes and dark, silken hair dressed in a pretty yellow sari.
The carnival master looked around at the sound of Lira's entrance and a smile lit up her face. The hair at the nape of Lira's neck prickled. The smile wasn't one from her usual arsenal. It seemed almost genuine, which made Lira all the more nervous.
"Ah good, you're here," she said. "Well, come closer don't be shy."
Lydia smiled encouragingly from behind Bebinn's back. She was missing one of her lower teeth. The gap gave her young, sweet face even more child-like innocence. "Lydia will be helping us with our experiments. Tonight she will just be observing. Go on, dear." Lydia went to sit on a stool in the corner. A bundle of blue thread was clutched in her hands.
"Now," said Bebinn, coming to stand beside Lira. "After your success with the kelpie, I want to see what else you and the violin can do. Kelpies are relatively simple spirits—animalistic—instinctive but not really sentient. I want to try something a bit more complex. Water nymphs seems a good place to start." Bebinn leaned over and gave the rope a sharp tug.
Out of the pool rose a scaly nymph with silver hair and dark eyes. The rope was ties in a noose around her neck. She bared sharp green teeth at Lira, a webbed hand pulling at the restraints. Lira wondered if she was one of the nymphs present for her meeting with Zabaria. She hoped not.
"You just want me to play and see what happens?" asked Lira.
"Yes, dear," replied Bebinn with a touch of impatience. "That is what you did with the kelpies is it not?"
Lira gave a hesitant nod. What she had down at the lake had been instinctive. She was just trying to save Owen, not gain control of the horse. It just happened that saving the former meant enslaving the latter. Bebinn wanted the latter.
Bebinn walked behind her and placed her hands on Lira's shoulders, steering her to stand in front of the pool. "Now, whenever you're ready," she said sweetly. She stepped over to Lydia.
Lira swallowed but her tongue seemed to have swelled to twice its normal size and her fingers felt wooden and clumsy when she placed them on the wires. The first note she drew was a screech that made Lydia and Bebinn wince. Even the nymph backed up in displeasure. Lira quickly corrected her hand position before Bebinn could say anything.
The next sound that came out was as pure and blue as the cistern water. It echoed around the room. They nymph turned her head back towards Lira, her dark pupils widening. The song continued slowly, the notes deep and mournful. The water spirit swan closer and placed her scaly forearms on the lip of the pool. She rested her head on her crossed arms and closed her eyes. When the piece was done and the last echoes faded, soft snores rose to fill their place. It hadn't worked; the nymph was asleep.
"Well," said Bebinn, brusquely. "That's not what we want." She walked over to the pool and picked up the rope. The water spirit was jerked awake with a screech, clutching at her throat. She threw Bebinn a murderous glare and said something in another language. Lira didn't understand it, but the meaning was clear. "Say that again and I'll drag you out of the water and hang you from the ceiling by your tail," said Bebinn. The nymphs blue skin paled and she sunk lower in the pool.
"Again," Bebinn told Lira. "Something different."
Lira grit her teeth. The water spirit looked back at her with unreadable eyes.
#
Lira slumped against the rock wall. Water seeping from unseen cracks soaked into her tunic, but she was to out of it too care. Her fingers and neck ached and her mind was full of fog. The water spirit was swimming in dizzying circles like a goldfish. Every once in a while she would pause and tug on the chain as though she expected it to give, only to resume swimming when it held.
Bebinn had left in infuriated frustration hours ago after dozens of attempts had failed to entrance the spirit. She had ordered Lira to stay behind until she figured out what she was doing wrong. Lydia had left in her wake, casting Lira a sympathetic glance before the heavy door slammed shut. Lira had slid down the wall, reveling in the silence and methodically stretching her hands.
How long would Bebinn keep her at it until she figured out it couldn't be done? What would she do if Lira continued to fail? So much for repairing our relationship.
Lira watched the nymph swim for a while longer. It was beautiful in an unnerving way—like a dolphin that might drown you.
"What are you doing?" Lira asked. The spirit tugged at the chain once more. It looked at her blankly and began circling again. "I know you can understand me," she said. It ignored her. "Can you speak—um—human I guess?" Nothing but the sound of water lapping over the edges of the pool.
A spark of anger ignited something in Lira. She slapped the ground, her hand stinging. "Could you at least look at me?" she snapped. "It's not my fault you're stuck in here."
The water spirit grumbled something in a foreign tongue. "Well, we are stuck in here whether you like it or not." Lira plucked absently at the violin strings. The soft tings collided with the whooshing water. She closed her eyes. What was music but liquid sound?
The nymph was swimming faster now; the water rushed like a whirlpool. Drops kept hitting Lira's cheeks and as the waves gained strength, they soaked her pants. She opened her eyes a slit, glaring at the creature. Why couldn't it just stop? Why couldn't everything just stop?
The spirit tried the chain again, screeching at the futility. The scream echoed off the walls, stabbing Lira's sensitive ears. It seemed to go on and on.
"Shut up!" Lira yelled, springing to her feet. "Just stop!" The spirit cut off its caterwauling and stabbed three webbed fingers in her direction. "I didn't put you in here, you stupid, ugly fish!" She kicked water at the thing.
It didn't flinch. It lowered its arm and turned quick as a whip. Before Lira had time to register the movement, she was doused in a torrent of icy water. Soaked, teeth chattering, she stood in shock before an anger she hadn't felt in four years melted the ice in her limbs.
She snapped up her violin. She saw the spirit clearly before here; the water in her hair and on her scales glistening in absurd clarity and the self-satisfied smirk lifting one corner of her mouth. And she imagined the water turning to ice, the liquid frosting her eyelashes white, turning her already blue lips purple with cold. The edges of Lira's vision went red with anger and a pressure was building deep in her chest. She couldn't breathe, couldn't feel, couldn't think. Her nerves had fried, melting her skin and her sense of time and reason.
There was a splash and Lira stopped. She blinked several times to clear her vision and the air broke free of her lungs in a gasp. She backed up against the wall, not believing her eyes. The violin clanged to the floor.
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