“Would you like to see it?”
Wordless, Iris stepped closer to Attie, watching as she opened the door of a metal safe nestled into the wall. It was hard to believe that what they were doing was now illegal in Oath: being in the presence of a stringed instrument. It sent a shiver down Iris’s back when she saw Attie hold her violin out in the space between them, its chestnut-colored wood gleaming in the lamplight.
“It’s beautiful,” Iris whispered, tracing the cold strings. “I’d love to hear you play it someday.”
A nostalgic expression crossed Attie’s face, but she gave her violin a soft caress before returning it to its case and closing the safe’s door. Once the painting was back on the wall, Iris would have never known a violin was there, hiding behind the rolling waves of a painted sea.
“Only your parents know where it hides?” Iris said.
Attie nodded. “I used to play down here when the siblings were in class. When no one was home to hear me but Papa. Sometimes my mum. I honestly haven’t played since I left for the front.” Another flicker of sadness passed in her eyes until she met Iris’s gaze, and something like steel flashed within her. “And I dreamt about ‘Alzane’s Lullaby’ last night.”
Iris’s heart quickened. “As did I. How is this happening? Why are we dreaming about the same song?”
Attie gave her a wry smile. “Magic, obviously.”
“You think a divine is trying to send us a message in dreams?”
“Yes. Which made me think about that myth you published in the paper. The one about Dacre being controlled by music in his realm.” Attie gathered the purring Lilac into her arms, scratching behind her ears. “If Enva’s harp could coax him to sleep with ‘Alzane’s Lullaby’ … why not a violin? Why not a cello? Why not any stringed instrument? Maybe that is the true reason why the chancellor outlawed everything with strings. Not out of fear of Enva recruiting us to war, but because we ourselves could tame a god with our music if we only knew how to reach the realm below.”
Iris was quiet, but her mind was racing. She knew where the active door was—in the Kitts’ parlor. Her best friend had a violin. They knew the power of “Alzane’s Lullaby.” The only thing they lacked was knowledge of Dacre’s exact location, or a way to coerce him underground. Roman could possibly help provide that information, though, and Iris suddenly felt shaky with apprehension.
“If we put Dacre to sleep…” Iris began.
“Then we could kill him,” Attie concluded.
Lilac emitted a meow as if in agreement. Iris reached out to stroke the cat’s fur.
“This lullaby we’ve dreamt of. Could you play it on your violin?”
“I can, but I need the full composition.” Attie set the cat down on the couch. “I had a music professor a few years ago at university. I’m going to make an appointment with her, hopefully for tomorrow, and see if she can’t help me obtain it. Apparently there have been many iterations of the song over the decades, and I need to make sure I’m playing the right one. The one we’ve been hearing in our dreams.”
“Thea?” Her father suddenly called down to the basement. “Your ride is here.”
“Coming, Papa!” Attie replied. She led Iris back up the stairs. “Perhaps we can meet up for dinner somewhere and talk more about this? You still owe me and Prindle a fancy meal, by the way.”
Iris laughed as they reached the main floor. “You’re right. For breaking and entering.”
“Breaking and entering where?” Ainsley asked. She seemed to have come from thin air, her lunch pail in one hand, slate tablet in the other.
“Nothing,” Attie replied quickly. “You ready for school, Ains?”
She nodded, her blue ribbons bobbing.
“Good. He’s waiting for you on the curb.” Attie guided Iris to the front door in Ainsley’s wake, grabbing her purse and coat from the foyer rack. “Now listen. Don’t get any grand ideas about this.”
Iris gave her a bewildered look. “About what?”
Attie motioned to the open doorway. Iris looked to see none other than Tobias Bexley and his roadster, parked just outside the town house. Attie’s siblings were gathered in the back seat, and Tobias was standing by the vehicle’s dented door, laughing at something her brother was saying.
“He drives them to school, even though it’s only five minutes away, and then me to work,” said Attie.
“Since when?” Iris asked, smiling.
“Since yesterday.” Attie began the walk to the curb, drawing Tobias’s attention. “But we’ll see how long he lasts with my siblings in tow.”
* * *
“Are you sure I can’t feed you three?” Marisol asked for the third time. Her black hair was wound into a low bun, and she was stirring a huge pot of porridge over a campfire. Lucy was beside her, stoic as usual and dressed in coveralls, pouring coffee for the soldiers who came by with their metal cups.
“I just ate, but thank you,” Attie said.
Iris and Tobias also declined, although Iris could feel her stomach growl. After Tobias had driven around the block to drop Attie’s siblings off at school, Iris had asked him if he could drive her to what had been dubbed the Drill Field—which in Iris’s mind was better known as the-field-where-the-chancellor-barred-Enva’s-army—just outside of Oath.
“How have things been here?” Iris asked.
“Good,” Marisol replied in a cheerful tone. “The rain finally eased off and the ground has dried out, as you can see. Still a bit muddy in places, but much improved. And your article has been very helpful. So many people are now coming from the city to deliver food and other resources to us here. The support has been heartening. Thank you for writing it.”
It was the article that had upset the Graveyard. The wounded had still been barred entrance to Oath, but support had trickled out from the city gates. Citizens had delivered food, clean water, blankets, medical supplies, laundry, and even things as simple as a pair of socks. Doctors and nurses from the hospital had brought medicine, cots, and relief to the field surgeons.
“Of course,” Attie said, drawing out a small pad of paper from her back pocket. “Any further updates or needs I can write about today?”
While Marisol and Lucy both listed more requests for the soldiers, Keegan finally appeared, walking up a well-worn path between tents.
“Good morning, Brigadier,” Iris greeted her. “Do you have a moment to speak with me?”
“Iris.” Keegan nodded a hello. “Yes, come in.” She ducked into one of the bigger tents, Iris close behind.
It was surprisingly homey inside, with rugs laid down over the ground, lamps hanging from above, and a few pieces of furniture. There was a table with a map of the city unrolled on it, the paper’s edges held down by small stones. Iris stopped before it, her eyes racing over the intricate drawing of each street, until she found the Kitts’ estate in the northern part of the city.
“How can I help you, Iris?” Keegan asked.