Lament: The Faerie Queen's Deception

“Are you playing soon?” I asked.

“They’ve just finished up the a cappella or whatever it’s called and they’re starting the duets now. Jason Byler—you remember him—and I decided to do the pipes with his electric guitar, just to see if we can get a rise out of the crowd. So yeah, soon. I’m going to head inside and find him. I’ll listen for your name, though.” James was still staring at Luke as if he were some sort of rare plant specimen.

“Good luck,” Luke said.

“Yeah. Thanks.” He held out his hand, brushing my fingers with his. “Later, Dee.”

After he had gone, Luke said, “He likes being different.”

I agreed.

“Unlike you,” he added.

I frowned. “That’s not true. I like being different. But somehow everything that makes people outside of high school notice me makes me invisible inside the school.” I shrugged. “James is my only real friend.” Immediately I thought I’d said too much, that I’d go invisible to him as well.

But he merely rubbed his flute absently before looking at me. “Their loss.”

“Deirdre Monaghan. Luke Dellom.”

I jerked at the sound of my name over the loudspeaker.

“Easy now,” Luke said. “We don’t need you passing out. They’ll wait.” He got up and shouldered my harp, offering me his flute case again. Then he held the door open for me. “After you, my queen.” I closed my eyes briefly as the door shut behind us, waiting for nerves to slam me again.

“Do you know how some people can do anything?”

I opened my eyes. I realized he was waiting for me to lead the way to the auditorium, so I started walking up the stairs. “What do you mean?”

As we got closer to the auditorium, there were more students waiting in the halls, all talking noisily, but I heard Luke’s voice behind me without difficulty. “I mean, you tell them to write a tune, they give you a symphony right there. You tell them to write a book, they write you a novel in a day. You tell them to move a spoon without touching it, they move it. If they want something, they make it happen. Miracles, almost.”

“Uh, not really,” I said. “Except for on the Sci-Fi Channel. Do you know anyone who can do that?”

Luke’s voice dipped. “I’d ask them to do a few miracles for me if I did.”

We pushed our way backstage; the previous duet, two trumpets, was still playing for the judges. They were revoltingly good.

Luke persisted. “What gets me is you could walk right by someone like that on the street. That you’d never know if you were like that unless you tried.”

“This is about the improvising on the tune, isn’t it?” I scanned heads for someone in charge. I was starting to get that light-headed, too-warm feeling that meant I was going to either hurl or fall down soon. “I get it. I wouldn’t have ever known I could improvise like that if you hadn’t made me.”

“Deirdre Monaghan and Luke Dillohm?” It was another lady with a clipboard, horribly mispronouncing Luke’s last name. “Good. You’re up next. Wait until these guys get offstage, and they’ll introduce you. You can say something brief about your piece if you like. Brief.” With a harassed expression, she turned to the musicians behind us and began repeating the speech.

“I just think you don’t push yourself enough,” Luke said, continuing exactly where he’d left off. “You settle for ordinary.”

This struck a chord with me, and I turned to look at him. I will call the tune. “I don’t want ordinary.”

Luke smiled at me, or at something behind me, his expression unreadable. Then he pulled a small, unmarked bottle of eyedrops from his pocket.

“Dry eyes?”

“I have strange eyes. I’d like to be able to see everything tonight.” He blinked, his eyes shiny with the drops and his lower lashes filled with small tears. A swipe of his arm and his eyes and lashes were dry, though no less bright. Something about them made me want to see the everything he was going to see.

“Deirdre? Ah, I thought that was you.” Mr. Hill, the school’s music teacher and band director, touched my elbow. He had acted as my musical mentor since I began high school; I knew he thought I was destined for greatness. “How are you doing?”

I contemplated the question. “Actually, not as bad as I expected.”

Mr. Hill’s eyes smiled behind his wire frames. “Great. I wanted to wish you good luck. Not that you need it, of course. Just remember to avoid pinching the high notes when you’re singing.”

I smiled back. “Thanks. Hey—I’m playing in duets. Did you know?”

Mr. Hill looked at Luke and his smile vanished. Frowning, he asked, “Do I know you?”

Luke said, “Nobody knows me.”

I looked at him. I will.

“Deirdre? Lucas? You’re on.” The clipboard-woman took my elbow firmly and pointed me in the direction of the stage. “Good luck.”

Together we walked into the too-bright lights of the stage. Luke’s hair was lit to white. I looked out, off the stage, trying to see where my family was, but the audience was cast in shadow. It was better that way—I wouldn’t see Delia’s invariably smug expression. I gave the darkened faces one last glance before sitting on the folding chair; it was unpleasantly warm from the last nervous performer.

Setting down the harp, Luke crossed behind me and whispered, “Don’t be ordinary.”

I shivered and gathered my harp to me. Something told me “ordinary” wasn’t possible when Luke was involved, and that thought was more exciting and terrifying that anything the competition could offer.

“Deirdre Monaghan and Luke DeLong on lever harp and wooden flute.”

I leaned to Luke and whispered, “They all say your name wrong.”

Luke’s teeth made a thin smile. “Everyone does.”

“I didn’t, did I?”

The stage lights reflected off his eyes like the glow off a lake; I was dazzled in spite of myself. “No, you didn’t.”

He adjusted the microphone and addressed the crowd, his eyes running over the people’s faces as if he expected to see someone he knew. “Excited to be here, folks?”

There was some mild clapping and calling from some of the louder dads.

“You don’t sound excited. This is the biggest musical event for students in a six-hundred-mile radius. We’re playing for great prizes. These are your children and the peers of your children, playing their hearts out, folks! Now, are you excited, or not?”