The young messenger ignored Lira's pleas to let her out and turned on her bare heel. The pounding of the violinist's fists faded as she walked back up the hall until they were out of earshot altogether. She slipped the small iron key into her tunic pocket and bent to collect her tea tray when she reached the staircase once more.
Ascending the stairs, she held tight to the cold metal, her nails grinding against its unyielding surface. No light shone from under Jacks or Owens' doors; they were likely at Genzel's and would not return for some time. Mitsi would be in the kitchen as he always was. She shifted the tray to her hip when she reached Lira's door, finding it unlocked as she turned the handle and pushed it open, not that she was surprised. Lira's door was always open to her.
She entered the room slowly, nonchalantly, as if she was expecting to find Lira inside, while her eyes did a quick sweep of the room. At first, she thought there was no one there; Lira's bed was unmade and empty, the desk strewn with sheet music, and the bureau doors open to show a handful of wrinkled garments dangling off hangers, but nothing else. Until a flash of movement caught her eye.
On the windowsill hopped a tiny, jewel-toned bird. It was red with a crown of tufted green feathers and a long three-part tail of bright yellow that danced behind it like smoke. It cocked its head at her curiously and raised its wings halfway as though trying to decide if she was to be trusted. The light glinted off its black eyes, a kind of sentience that didn't belong to normal birds staring back at the little girl on the threshold.
She set the tray down on the desk gently so as not to frighten the creature.
"Lira sent me," she whispered, not sure if the bird could speak. It straightened up at Lira's name, so she was fairly certain it could understand. She took a step toward the window, holding out her hands in a gesture of good faith. "She has a message for Zabaria." The bird bobbed its head twice in the approximation of a nod.
Atlas looked over her shoulder as though to make sure no one had followed her and stepped forward again, lowering her voice. "You must make sure Zabaria gets this message right away," she said urgently.
The bird's clawed feet wrapped around the lip of the sill, keeping it balanced while it leaned forward at her words. As it did, her hand snapped out and closed around its neck. The bird let out a shriek of alarm before her fingers, digging down through the layers of feathers, felt the tiny bones snap. Instantly, the light went out of its eyes and its head tipped sideways, beak hanging open.
She gathered up the limp body in both hands, feathers splaying over her hands like a muddled rainbow, and glanced out the window. Owen stood on the grounds below, looking up at her through Lira's window. From this distance it was hard to discern the set of his features, but Owen had only really ever looked at her with one expression.
She turned to carry the bird back to her tray of broken things, already calculating what had to be done next.
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