Prelude (The Rhapsody Quartet) (25 page)

I shrugged. I didn’t know. I’d never had any aptitude or experience hanging out with friends. But if anyone deserved to have some fun, it was Glenn. One way or another, he’d enjoy himself.

I dumped the book unceremoniously onto the mattress, abandoning my bag next to it. It was probably harder on the atlas than Aldan would’ve liked, but I didn’t care.

Glenn stood stiffly at the door, his hands clasped together in front of himself. “Where are we heading?”

“Towards town,” I answered, deciding in the moment.

He nodded, “Alright.” He sounded uncomfortable, but I assumed it was because he wasn’t sure
what
to think of me. If he’d had a real holiday, he’d probably choose to be as far from me as possible. I could only do my best.

As we walked out the door and down the street, I turned to him. “You must have days off from the Guard?”

He nodded. “Yes. We have personal time once a week.” He kept his eyes fixed forward as he spoke.

“What did you do then?”

“Sometimes I’d read scrolls. Sometimes I’d train.”

“But you must get lots of training during your active duties, right?”

He shrugged, “I suppose I do. Most of that training is sparring with the other elves, though.”

“What about leisure? What do you do for fun?” I pressed.

His brows raised in confusion. He continued to stare forward. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

We were nearing the high school and elementary school. I grinned as I saw the playground. “It’s been forever since I was on a swing set!” I said, pointing at it. When I was a little girl, I used to love it, pumping my legs all alone in the school yard.

He glanced at it. “Hmm. Yes, it’s been a long time for me, as well.”

I tried to picture Glenn swinging, and failed. “You have swing sets in— wherever you’re from?”

Glenn laughed, “You’ll see it in that ridiculous book Aldan gave you to study. I’m from the great elvish forest of Kaeylon. And no, we don’t have swings there.” He sighed wistfully. “It would be disrespectful to the trees to have such things tied to them, and metal sets like this—” He shook his head, “highly unnatural.”

I peered at him curiously. “So where
did
you play on one?”

“Up here, the Overworld,” he answered, gracefully stepping over a fallen tree branch. “My mother took me when I was much younger, a child.”

I wondered what Glenn’s childhood was like, growing up as an elf. I smiled, grabbing for his hand, tugging on him. “Let’s go on one now!” I urged.

He stared at me like I was three tenors shy of a choir. “
Why?
”

I laughed. “Because it’s
fun!
”

I ran with him, tugging his wrist, pulling him to the sets. Swiping my hand out, I pushed away the layer of condensation. I sat down, nodding to the seat beside me.

He shook his head, but a smile crossed his lips. I backed up, pulling my legs out in front of me, sailing through the air.

“You’re strange.”

“Come on!” I chirped, nodding to the other seat again.

Glenn looked awkward, tilting the plastic to dump the water from it. He sat down, rocking back and forth just a little, his hands in his lap.

I laughed. “You can do better than
that!
”

“I don’t know if I even remember how,” he said. “I was perhaps a child of three the last time I was on one.”

I jumped from the seat, feeling like I was soaring— though I was probably only leaping a couple feet. I stumbled forward, darting around behind him, grinning. “Okay, hold the chains,” I commanded.

He sighed, but dutifully clasped them loosely with his tan hands. I grabbed just below his grip, and pulled him back several feet before letting him go. I pushed his shoulders as he swung up to me, increasing his momentum.

“What’s the point of this, Sarah?”

“To feel like you’re flying.”

“Why not just
fly
?”

I laughed. “Maybe it’s a human thing.”

“You’re not human, Sarah.” I stopped pushing him, the swing slowing down. He twisted sharply, the chains tangling, so he was facing me. “You’ve never been human.”

I’d never thought of that before. It’d felt like I was simply turning into a siren, out of my control, that before I was sixteen I was human. There were people, and there were extras— something else, something worse than human. It always felt like it was an unlucky twist of fate that led to my transformation. But he was right… there wasn’t any place where I’d ever belonged. Except, maybe, with Score.

My lip trembled, thinking about it.

Glenn sighed. “Sarah, I’m sorry. I don’t… I don’t know what I said wrong.”

I shook my head, “Nothing, Glenn.”

His hands gripped mine, his eyes filled with conviction. “I
am
sorry. And if it’s about that boy— I didn’t mean it like that—”

I laughed. “It’s not about Will! I just… you’re right, I didn’t realize I’d never been human.”

He stood up. “Come on, then. I’ll push you.”

I smiled, sinking into the swing and twisting it forward again. He pushed me up, higher and higher and higher before we tired of the distraction. After a few minutes, I slowed to a stop, dragging my feet in the muddy pit below.

“What now?” he asked.

I raised a brow. “I’d have thought you’d be anxious to get back to your routine.”

He glanced at the ground, “I—”

I laughed. “I’m just
teasing!
” I stood up, gripping his hand in mine. I led us towards town. “You look like the kind of guy who’s probably never had a slice of cheese cake.”

“What?!” he asked incredulously.

I grinned. “Well… have you?”

He raised a brow. “People make cake out of cheese?”

I giggled. He didn’t know what he was missing. We made our way into town. I pulled us into one of the small restaurants on Main Street and slid into a booth.

Glenn sat awkwardly across from me. Both of his hands were clasped loosely, but he had to lean forward to make room for his bow and quiver.

“I’ve never actually seen you eat.” I realized. I wondered if this was even appropriate.

He smiled lopsidedly. “It’s usually unnecessary for me to eat more than once a day. I have rations, and the house resupplies me when I ask.”

“Oh.” It had never even occurred to me that the mermaids supplied Glenn with whatever he needed. I leaned forward, curiosity burning at me. The elf
seemed
like he was in a good mood today. Maybe I could get some of my questions answered. “Do you sleep, either?”

Glenn shook his head. “Almost never. I meditate. I draw energy from the life around me.”

A waitress strode to our table, and I smiled. “We need two slices of cheesecake, and a couple glasses of water.”

She nodded, getting the glazed-over dreamy look on her face that everyone did when I spoke with them. I wondered how Score controlled it. The kids at his party all looked like they were within their own mental faculties around him, and he was so seamless at school. He didn’t stick out at all— aside from how beautiful he was.

“Do you
ever
sleep, then?” I asked, returning my thoughts to my guard.

“If I’m sick. When I was a child, I’d sleep for a few hours at night, as I grew. By the time I was twelve I’d abandoned the practice. There are more useful things to do in the late hours.”

“Isn’t meditation just as wasteful, though?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Meditation helps to balance the mind, brings forth clarity, and quells some of my—” He stopped talking abruptly. “It’s a noble practice, spiritually cleansing.”

The waitress returned with the cake, sliding it onto the table. She asked if we needed anything else, her inflections and body language overly enthusiastic. I shook my head, dismissing her, and took a big bite. It was delicious and smooth. I closed my eyes, letting it melt on my tongue.

Glenn stared at it warily. “This doesn’t look like any cake I’ve ever seen.”

I laughed, “Try it!”

He tentatively picked up one of the forks and took a tiny sliver from the pointed end. It was so little, I almost wondered if he could possibly taste it. He reluctantly put it into his mouth. His eyes widened. “That’s good,” he said, sounding surprised.

“My favorite,” I agreed.

His hand shook, and he set the fork down. “Do you want it?” he asked.

I blinked. He appeared to like it, and I wasn’t sure why he was so reluctant. “It’s for
you
, Glenn. I have my own.”

He stared at the cake. He kept his hands clasped together for several moments before he picked up the fork again, taking another bite. He closed his eyes.

“I appreciate you,” I said, leaning forward and grabbing his free hand in mine. “I just thought I should let you know.”

He opened his eyes with a panicked expression, snatching his hand away. “You— I’m just doing my job,” he said roughly, dropping the fork. Glenn seemed practically angry with me. “Are you almost done?” he asked, pushing his plate away from himself. “We should get back to the house.”

“Don’t you want more?” He’d barely dented his slice of cake.

“I’m fine, Sarah. Thanks for the outing,” he added, sounding insincere. He shifted his bow on his back. “Let’s just go.”

“Okay,” I said, confused.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

Escape

The next day, I walked to Score’s house with Glenn in reluctant tow. My dulcimer was firmly in my hands this visit. Glenn had raised a brow when I grabbed it, but I mumbled an excuse that I didn’t like leaving it behind, that it was part of me.

Which was true, but not the reason I took it with me.

Score lay in a chaise on his back deck, basking in the sunlight with dark glasses over his eyes. He perked up as soon as we arrived, running down the stairs to greet us.

“Hey, Sarah,” he said. He turned to Glenn, “Oh. What’s he doing here?”

I sighed. Score was playing dumb, of course, but I supposed the only thing to do would be to act natural. So I turned to him, tilting my head. I said, “Will, this is Glenn, and for the rest of the day you can’t see him or hear him.” I turned to Glenn, raising a brow. He looked thoughtful, but appeased. He nodded, dropping back several paces.

Score grabbed my hand in his, lacing his fingers through mine. I felt my heart rate jump up, though I knew it was all a clever ruse. Score didn’t
really
feel anything for me, but he was supposed to be my human boyfriend, and he played the part perfectly. I gripped my dulcimer in my other hand tightly, wondering how we’d get the chance to speak freely. I took a fleeting glance back at Glenn, and Score said, “Sarah, you seem distracted. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” More playing along…

He dug into his pocket, pulling out a pretty necklace with a star shaped opal dangling from it. My breath caught. I swallowed down a lump in my throat, but Score seemed unaware of my discomfort. Casually, he said, “This is for you. Here, let me put it on.” He brushed my hair aside so it swung over my right shoulder, and looped the chain around my throat.

As he leaned against me to clasp it, I heard him whisper, “Just follow my lead…” He pulled back, smiling. “It looks beautiful on you.”

I blushed, staring at the sand. “Thanks, Will.”

Glenn had fallen back about fifty paces by now. Score pulled me towards his car. He fished in his pockets for his keys and clicked the doors open, the lights flashing. Politely, he opened the passenger door for me. He raised a brow, gesturing inside.

“Sarah!” Glenn yelled, watching me like a hawk.

I bit my lip and gave him an apologetic glance, then slid into the seat.

Score smoothly clicked the door shut. Within five seconds he was next to me, keys in the ignition. In the side mirror, I could see Glenn had started to run towards us. I glanced nervously at Score. I wouldn’t put it past my bodyguard to rip the door open, but Score took his time and pulled out, careful to avoid being stuck in the sand as we drove out of the paved slab near his garage.

I took a fleeting glance behind me. Glenn had given up on chasing after us, and was instead staring at the car with a scowl. A sharp pang of guilt hit me between the eyes— Glenn was only trying to do his job, and it was a little cruel of me to run from him. On the other hand, he needed to learn to trust me.

Score laughed next to me, his body slumping down in relief. “We made it.”

I shifted, shaking my head. “Except he won’t be gone for long,” I muttered. Score looked so relaxed and happy, but I knew Glenn. He took his duty seriously. “Unless we’re going to leave town— and we’re
not
,” I said with certainty, “Glenn will find us as soon as we stop.”

“No, we’ll be okay.”

“Are you planning on just driving us around?” It was a plausible way of doing things. I’d still never seen Glenn attempt to ride in a car before. I had an impression he didn’t care for human transportation. But driving around aimlessly left something to be desired.

Score removed his sunglasses, grinning at me. I realized with a start that he hadn’t been wearing his contacts at all this evening— his eyes were siren-bright, turquoise. “There
is
a destination, I promise you.
Not
out of town.”

He drove for about five minutes before pulling into Longbay Park. I frowned.

I’d been here before, though it wasn’t impressive. It was a small park just off the highway, with trees, moss, and ferns crowding up a small picnic site. There was a tiny fire pit and a table that was long since warped in the rain. Cutting past the trees was a well-beaten path to the beach— beyond the dunes and scrubby grass. To my knowledge, it was used exclusively by stoners as a place to get high before trudging their way back to the beach.

Score slid out of the car, opening my door for me. I furrowed my brows and accepted his hand, exiting the vehicle. I stood awkwardly with my dulcimer slung over my shoulder.

I glanced back towards the road dubiously. “We don’t have much time, Score,” I said anxiously, “Glenn will definitely—”