“And I’m guessing you were wrong?”
She nodded. Leaving is never easy.
Roar watched her for a long moment, the hint of a smile in his eyes. “That’s not anxious nonsense, Aria. It’s what’s happening. It’s truth.” He squeezed her hand and let go. “Please don’t ever spare me that.”
When Roar fell asleep, she dug her Smarteye out of her satchel. It was time to check in with Hess again. For days, she’d been picturing Talon with his legs swinging over the pier. Now her stomach tightened as she remembered Hess’s threat. She chose the Hess icon on her Smartscreen and fractioned. When she saw where she was, every muscle in her body went rigid.
The Paris Opera House.
From her spot at center stage, she stood in stunned silence, absorbing the familiar opulence of the hall. Tiers of gilded balconies wrapped around a sea of red velvet seats. Her eyes traveled higher, to the colorful fresco nestled in the domed ceiling, lit by the brilliant grand chandelier. She’d been coming here since she was just a young girl. This Realm—more than anywhere—felt like home.
Her focus moved beyond the orchestra pit to the seat directly in front of her.
Empty.
Aria closed her eyes. This had been her place with Lumina. She could imagine her mother there, in her simple black dress, her dark hair pulled back in a tight bun, a gentle smile on her lips. Aria had never known a more reassuring smile. A smile that said, Everything will be all right and I believe in you. She felt that now. A stillness. A certainty. Everything would work out. She clung to the feeling, locking it in her heart. Then slowly she opened her eyes, and the feeling seeped away, leaving questions that burned in the back of her throat.
How could you leave me, Mom? Who was my father? Did he mean anything to you?
She’d never have answers. She would only have an ache that stretched backward and forward and kept going as far as she could see.
The stage lights clicked off, and then the audience lights. Suddenly she stood in blackness so complete that her balance wavered. Her ears thrummed to their full power, ready to seize any small sound.
“What is this, Hess?” she said, annoyed. “I can’t see.”
A spotlight sliced through the darkness, blinding her. Aria lifted her hand, shielding her eyes from the light and waiting for them to adjust. She could just make out the dark void of the orchestra pit below and the rows of seats beyond. High above, thousands of crystals from the grand chandelier twinkled.
“A bit theatrical for you, isn’t this, Hess? Are you going to sing Phantom of the Opera to me?” On a whim, she sang a few lines of “All I Ask of You.” She’d only meant to play around, but the lyrics swept her up. The next thing she knew, she was thinking of Perry and singing.
She’d missed the way the hall amplified her control and power. This stage had never been mere boards on which to stand. It was alive—shoulders that propped her up and lifted her higher. When she finished, she had to cover her emotion with a smile. “No applause? You’re hard to please.”
His silence was going on too long. She pictured the small marble-topped table, the delicate saucers filled with coffee—all absent for the first time—just as an arrogant voice broke through the silence.
“It’s good to see you again, Aria. It’s been a while.”
Soren.
Dead ahead, roughly four rows back, she saw a shadowed figure silhouetted against the darkness. Aria rolled onto the balls of her feet and breathed steadily as images flashed before her eyes. Soren, chasing her as fire raged around them. Soren, on top of her, crushing her throat with his hands.
This was the Realms, she reminded herself. Better than Real. No pain. No danger. He couldn’t hurt her here.
“Where’s your father?” she asked.
“Busy,” Soren answered.
“So he sent you?”
“No.”
“You hacked your way in.”
“Hacking is something you do with a machete. This was a minor incision with a scalpel. Your mother would’ve liked that analogy. This is where you used to come with her, isn’t it? I thought you’d like coming back.”
The amusement in his voice made her stomach churn with anger. “What do you want, Soren?”
“A lot of things. But right now I want to see you.”
To see her? She doubted it. Revenge seemed more likely. He probably blamed her for what happened that night in Ag 6. She wasn’t going to wait around to find out. Aria tried to fraction out of the Realm.
“That won’t work,” Soren said, just as a message appeared on her screen, telling her the same. “Nice try, though. I liked the song, by the way. Touching. You’ve always been amazing, Aria. Really. Sing some more. I like that story. There’s a horror Realm about it.”
“I’m not singing to you,” she said. “Turn the lights back on.”
“He’s deformed, isn’t he? The Phantom?” Soren continued, ignoring her. “Doesn’t he wear the mask to hide how hideous he is?”
There was another way out of the Realms. Aria shifted her focus to the real and curled her fingers around the edges of the Smarteye. She knew the pain of ripping off the device. A shocking ache that burned in the back of her eyes and ran like fire down her spine. She wanted out of there, but she couldn’t bring herself to tear it off.
Soren’s voice pulled her back to the Realm. “By the way, that blue dress in Venice was deadly. Thoroughly sexy. And champ move with the coffee. You shocked the hell out of my father.”
“You’ve been watching me? You’re disgusting.”