"Beware the silver-tongued, for they strike with a smile. I knew a man once who could talk for ten minutes to a complete stranger and be invited in for supper. He spoke for hours about any topic that arose, even if he knew nothing, and beguiled experts of their own craft. He ingratiated himself into the house as if he belonged, as if he were in control. Take heed, for one slip of resolve, and he had you in his vice, and trapped you in a corner of twisted words. But this was no true devil, just a man. His voice meant nothing once I cut out his tongue."
~Cinza, the Rallsburg Diaries
"Well Janet, everyone here's waiting for the arrival of the guest of honor. Honestly, I can't say I've seen a more heavily anticipated red-carpet for a Monday night talk show."
"Tell me, Ted, since you're the expert—what should we expect?"
"I've met her mother a few times, but no, I can't say I've ever actually spoken to her myself."
"Her mom had no idea, right?"
"None at all. She assumed her daughter was dead this whole time."
"Wow. Just wow."
"I gotta ask, Ted. Any idea why the Evening Show, of all things? I mean, Russ Wallace doesn't exactly have the widest audience, and he's a softie when it comes to interviews. And who watches talk shows live anymore?"
"He's gonna have 'em tonight. The whole show is just one interview, with the most famous person on the planet right now."
"Wait, I thought there were two."
"Look!"
"Up there!"
"Hang on, Janet, I think something's happening."
The cameras whipped upward. A cloud of lenses winked at her, light reflected off the neon signs everywhere. They'd spotted her.
Hailey grinned.
She curled her wings back, beginning a slow drop off. As she peeled them back further, the glide turned into a dive. Faster and faster. The huge red carpet—and the area she'd requested at the end—was lit up by spotlights. The sun was already going down, so no one had seen her gliding overhead for a full ten minutes.
Hailey didn't mind. She'd been working through pre-show jitters that whole time, trying to think of the perfect thing to say.
The cameras followed her in, and the sound of a thousand flash clicks went off as she hurtled in. Hailey swooped her wings wide, as wide as they could go so that the burst of wind wouldn't be so strong, but still hit the whole crowd and everyone beyond.
A few hats blew off as she touched down. She only took two steps to land, compared to the usual five or six. She was in her usual flight suit—faux-leather jacket, breezy shirt underneath, aviator cap, tight-fit jeans. She'd taken extra care to make it look clean and polished, and added a multicolor scarf for the occasion. Originally, she'd considered some kind of dress, and spent hours agonizing through options with Jess watching over her shoulder, until she realized that none of them really said 'Hailey'. Jess was right; she should just be herself.
Voices shouted from every direction, so much that she couldn't understand a single word. Cameras kept clicking and flashing. Hailey waved, basking in the glow. She knew she was live around the world, in every major city on the globe. She wondered how many translators were anxiously awaiting her first word. How are they gonna translate 'awakened', anyway? And what's the word for magic in German?
Why did I pick German?
Hailey didn't bother trying to talk to the crowd of reporters. For one, she'd agreed that her interview was going to be inside with Russ. No sense ruining a budding relationship for the sake of the paparazzi.
I wonder how many magazine covers I'll get.
Waving and smiling, Hailey made her way up the carpet and through the doors. The show staff waited just inside, and to her surprise, most of them seemed unimpressed. She was herded straight into makeup, since the show was set to go live in thirty minutes. The make-up girl just stared for a minute under an array of lights, utterly confused. Hailey shrugged, bemused, and soon enough she was sent off to the stage for sound checks.
"Everybody looks so annoyed," she wondered aloud to the guy who was helping her strap a battery pack and transmitter onto her belt for the microphone.
"They don't usually do live shows."
"They?"
"I'm from another studio. They brought us in to help." He shrugged. "Honestly, no offense, but I don't even know who you are."
Hailey smiled. "That's okay. Nobody really did til a few days ago."
"Huh."
"So they're usually taped?" she prompted.
"Yeah. I dunno if Wallace even does live. You better hope he can carry the show."
"I'm sure it'll be fine."
"This whole fast turnaround with no warning's pretty nuts too."
"I kinda had to show up as late as possible and not tell anyone when I was coming," she explained apologetically.
"Why's that, then?"
"Security. So nobody crazy could try to shoot me out of the sky."
The guy raised his eyebrows. "What, you flew here?"
She grinned, and murmured a little spell under her breath, floating up into the air a few inches. She didn't want to use her wings inside and blow everything around.
His eyebrows vanished into his bangs.
"What the fuck..." he muttered.
Hailey released the levitation spell, dropping to the floor with a soft thump. "So why's the turnaround so hard?" she asked, after he didn't say anything for thirty seconds.
He managed to get back to professional really quick, to her relief. "For international TV? No one wants to be the guys who screwed up the mics, or the broadcast, or sound balance, lighting, whatever. We can do quick, and damn did makeup work fast on you, but still. Pressure's on, you know?"
"Sorry about that," she said honestly—all while glowing from the inadvertent compliment he'd given to her. No makeup, all me. "I didn't really want to be doing this in the first place."
He shrugged. "We're getting paid really well for this show."
"Cool."
He picked up a walkie from the folding table. "Check two please?"
"Check ready."
"Say something," he added, nodding to Hailey.
She took a deep breath. "I'm absolutely terrified to be doing this."
The walkie crackled. "Solid read on mic two. Clean filter."
"Copy." He stepped away. "You're good. For the love of God, don't bump that pack hard though."
She nodded. "I'll do my best." Hailey glanced around. None of the staff seemed to be waiting for her though. "Where do I go?"
"They're finishing warm-up, I think."
"Warm-up?"
"House band and some amateur stand-up, get the audience in the right state." He nodded toward the stage, where Hailey could barely hear someone talking over speakers. "Also doubles as another sound check."
"Cool." Hailey's stomach was jittering. She glanced around. "Do I have time to use the bathroom?"
He rolled his eyes. "Can you do it without taking off your pants? 'Cause you're pretty strapped in here."
Hailey looked over her shoulder. She hadn't realized the wires he'd fished through her belt and underneath her jacket up to the lapel mic, almost totally concealed. "Wow. You work fast."
"Thanks." He cocked his head slightly, listening to his earpiece. "Alright, they're calling for you. Head up the stairs and to the right."
"Stairs and to the right. Thanks."
"Fifteen minutes!" shouted someone with a clipboard as Hailey walked by, though not at her. Weirdly enough, despite being the headline guest, Hailey was mostly left alone. She wondered if she was different somehow, or if this was how they treated all their guests.
Maybe all the actors already know their way around a soundstage, so they don't usually have to help guests out. Lucky for Hailey, the place had pretty clear signs everywhere. She just followed the big, bold signs to the MAIN STAGE, right on the path the sound guy had told her.
"You're Hailey?" asked a harried-looking woman with a pen stuck in her hair and another clipboard. She had two different headsets on, one for each ear.
She nodded. "Yup, that's me."
"Okay. Mr. Wallace will be around in a minute for a quick rundown before either of you head out. Did you have a list of no-gos?"
"A list of whats?"
"Topics to avoid."
"I uhhh..." Hailey shrugged. "How to awaken, I guess."
"How to what now?"
"...Do you know what this show is about?"
She shook her head. "Some book. Russ and the writers do all the research for the interviews."
Hailey shrugged. "Should I let him know, or you?"
She sighed. "Just tell him yourself, unless you want to get awkward on air. Live show, so we can't drop anything from the tape. You only got about a six second censor delay."
"Right."
"Twelve minutes!" came another shout from down the hall. Whoever it was had a powerful voice. Hailey felt a bit jealous. She decided to figure out how to do that with magic sometime soon. Might come in handy. You never know. Cinza probably has a few ideas.
A small crowd rounded the corner at the end of the hall, Russell Wallace himself in the center. One make-up artist brushed at his face as they walked, while he talked rapidly to a gaggle of writers and other staff Hailey could only guess at. She waited for them to notice her, but it took the whole walk for Russ to even glance her way.
He smiled. She'd always liked that smile, if nothing else. He had a sincere, honest smile and a good laugh, compared to most of the other hosts. Russ wasn't really the quickest or the sharpest wit, but he was charming enough. Why'd Nate pick him, of all people?
"Miss Winscombe?" he asked. To her surprise, it was the same voice he used on-air. She always assumed (for no apparent reason) that their host voice must be an affectation.
"Hailey, please. Miss Winscombe is my mom."
"Good lord, what the hell is she wearing?" muttered one of the attending staff in the back.
Hailey rolled her eyes. "I make this look good, dude. Don't knock it."
"You heard that?"
"I've got really good hearing." She grinned. "Isn't there a show we're supposed to be prepping for here?"
"She's not wrong," said Russ, obviously amused. "Everyone who isn't important, go away or you're fired."
Half of the gaggle vanished instantly, including the amateur fashion consultant. Hailey relaxed a little at Russ' smile.
"That's good," said Russ. "Keep it loose. This is gonna be a piece of cake."
"Ten minutes!"
"I've never been on TV before," said Hailey, glancing out at the stage.
"Don't worry about them," he shrugged. "The crowd's just there for show. Just focus on me and you'll do great."
"Cool."
"You got a list for me?" he asked, turning to the stage manager.
"She's got it," said the woman, obviously irritated.
"Ah." He switched back to Hailey. "So, what's off-limits?"
"Honestly?" Hailey winced. "I didn't really have time to think about it. I didn't know I could have off-limits things."
"I'm not really a hard-hitter, I'm just a talkie host." Russ shrugged. "This isn't an interrogation. Comfortable, fun interviews are my show."
"Well, uhh..." Hailey took a second to think, and the first thing that came to mind was the girl across the street, watching the whole thing from her phone—waiting for a signal to blow through the whole building if she had to. "Jessica Silverdale."
"The best friend?"
"Right. Nothing about her."
"Okay."
"And how to awaken. Nothing on that."
Russ raised an eyebrow. "You know it's in the book, right?"
"You've read it?"
"We got a heavily edited copy from the publisher, exclusive to us. We had to sign a dozen non-disclosures and they had a squad of armed security escort the thing in and out." He glanced around. "Only me and my best writers got to read it, and it was still missing a ton of things, but I know all about awakening."
"...I don't want it to be me," said Hailey. "It's his fault then."
"His?"
"You don't know the guy who stole them?" she asked, surprised.
"Nope." He raised a hand as Hailey opened her mouth. "Tell me on-air. Audience loves a genuine reaction."
"Five minutes!"
"Anything else?" he prompted. "I'm needed in sound check."
"Uhh... Ruby."
He frowned. "That's a radioactive subject. I wouldn't touch that one with a ten foot pole."
"Thanks."
"You got it." Russ smiled. "You're gonna do great, Hailey. You look fantastic, by the way. Props to makeup."
"She didn't go to makeup," said the stage manager, as annoyed as ever.
"Well, props to you then," he continued, without missing a beat. "I'll see you in a few minutes." He hurried away.
"So what do I do now?" Hailey asked.
The woman shrugged, craning her neck to look across the stage. "What the fuck is lighting doing...?" She grabbed a clicker on her headset. "Huell, turn off chair three, dammit! We only have one guest tonight. And get every camera on chair one. Make sure the wide's centered on it."
Hailey took a deep breath, and then another one. It took away a lot of the jitters.
"What the hell are you still doing here?" the woman said, snapping back around to Hailey.
"Huh?"
"You need to be at the guest entrance!"
"Which is..."
She waved wildly at the wall behind them, where a helpful blue arrow pointed the way.
"Okay." Hailey set off, immeasurably grateful to be away from the hysterical woman as she started cursing to another member of the beleaguered staff.
"Two minutes!"
A harried assistant pointed her to the guest entrance, where she found a chair and an ice chest of water bottles. Hailey popped one open and downed half of it. She wished it were something a bit heavier, but she'd take anything to clear her dry mouth a bit.
"One minute!"
The band started to play the intro theme, while the warm-up comedian left the stage to a round of applause—or maybe they were just applauding for the intro. She could hear the announcer over the speakers, with the typical deep radio host voice.
"Coming to you from New York City, live for the first time ever, it's an Evening Show special event!"
Hailey still had a few minutes before she'd be on stage. She pulled out her phone and checked the stream out of curiosity. The show was getting simultaneously broadcast over social media, presumably at Nate's request. They'd agreed on the condition that advertisements be built directly into the video, so they couldn't be skipped.
She couldn't get the video to load. Surprised, Hailey tried a different site, since the first one wasn't really known for having the best streaming service. The second one worked fine, and Hailey got there just in time to see her own face smiling back from the intro title, over a generic shot of the New York skyline.
"Hailey Winscombe!" called out the announcer. Hailey missed the rest of the line—and everything else the announcer said—as her eyes dropped down to the number below the video stream.
A hundred and forty-two million viewers... and it was going up every second.
What the hell am I doing? Hailey's heart-rate spiked. She took another drink of water and a few deep breaths. This is crazy!
"...your host, Russssssellllllllllll Wallaaaaaaace!"
Another huge round of applause, as Russ stepped out onto the stage.
Deep breaths, Hales. You got this. This is nothing. You've faced down monsters.
"Thank you!" said Russ, beaming into the crowd. "You're tremendous, really. Thank you all. Well, we've got a great show for you tonight, and a very special one at that. It's our first ever live show, people!"
Another burst of applause.
"Yes, this is one hundred percent live, so anything that can go wrong, is absolutely going to go wrong—and our man in the censor booth has his hand on the ducking trigger!"
He didn't actually swear... Hailey laughed. It's a show. It's just a show. I got this.
"A great show, really great show coming up, people, and of course, it's what everyone's talking about. That's right, we'll be spending a whole hour on platypus pajamas."
A screen above the audience popped up with a shot of a platypus wearing flannel. It got a huge roar of laughter.
I mean, it's a cute picture... but come on.
Russ grinned. "No, but seriously, folks. We've only got one thing to talk about for the whole show, which I know is going to really bum out those ten viewers who just tune in for the music at the end. Sorry, people. I'll make you a deal—if we run over, I'll sing you a little song at the end, and Charlie and the band will back me up. Won't you Charlie?"
The leader of the house band shook his head and rolled his eyes, accompanied by a quick musical sting.
"Right, so Charlie wants to keep our audience after this show. Smart guy, Charlie. This is why he's in charge and I just stand up here and make a fool of myself." Russ made a little signal with his hand, just out of sight of the camera.
The feed swapped to a different angle, right at the same time that Russ turned. "Now, this is normally the bit where I do my usual amateur stand-up and remind everyone why they should stay in school, but we figured no one really wants to see that. Especially not our hundred and fifty million online viewers."
Hailey double-checked it on her phone, and sure enough, they'd passed that number already. A huge cheer erupted in the audience, and this time it felt genuine. She briefly wondered how much these people paid for tickets—and how well they were vetted by security, if at all. She quickly dug into her belt pouch for a few gemstones and tucked them into the inner pocket on her jacket, just in case. Her favorite tourmaline hung around her neck as usual.
"That's right, our stream just beat the Super Bowl. I expect my talk show championship ring in the mail by the end of the week." A grin and another pause. "An 'Evening Show' that's not in the evening? Insane, they called me! Mad, they said! And they were absolutely right!"
He beamed around the audience. "But while I have you all here and my blackmail's still holding out, I'm going to make the very best of it. Without further ado—because I hear our viewer count plummeting already—please give a huge New York welcome to Hailey Winscombe!"
The band started playing a song she didn't know, and the audience went wild with applause. Hailey felt a shove forward from the stage manager, who'd appeared out of nowhere behind her. She pocketed her phone, shook her head slightly to clear her hair away, and put on a smile.
Showtime.