Harmony

Spontaneous violet was confusing. Unfamiliar voices were confusing. Her own poor choices were a crisis in and of themselves, and what led to them was confusing in turn. In the aftermath of bolts unleashed in a broken home, nostalgia almost outweighed yet more confusion. It was the second time in several weeks that the essence of lightning had stolen her breath.

Octavia could only stare, her eyes flickering endlessly between Josiah’s face and the Harmonial Instrument sizzling in his hands. “You’re…”

“Yes, ‘I’m’. Don’t…think about it too much, alright?” he said, his tone still touched by annoyance.

Dazed and disoriented, Octavia could hardly scrounge for the words she was looking for. Instead, she was content to submit to a sigh of relief. The sweet silence around her, devoid of the horrid noise that had tormented every fiber of her being moments ago, was the greatest gift she could ever be granted. She wanted to collapse. It took all of her effort not to.

“Is he okay?” Josiah asked, his steps quickening as he darted to her side.

Octavia nodded, half-hearted as the motion was. “I…I don’t know. He passed out, I think.”

Josiah dropped to his knees in an instant. He settled Etherion down onto the floor with enough force and disregard that, frankly, it made Octavia uncomfortable. He lowered his head to Harper’s chest, two fingers pressed hard against his upper throat in silence.

After a moment, he exhaled. “He’s just unconscious, yeah. What the hell happened?”

Octavia cast her eyes down at the boy below her. “I’m not entirely sure. It’s just how he reacted to the Dissonance, I guess.”

Already, Josiah had turned away in favor of rustling through his bag. “Roll him this way, put his head on your lap, do whatever gets him facing upright. Also, I don’t think it’s a stretch to assume people have different reactions to Dissonance at this point.”

Octavia did as she was told, gently pushing Harper onto his back. “I’ve never seen that before.”

From deep within the confines of the canvas, Josiah finally withdrew a small, scarlet satchel, tightly bound with a strand of twine. “Yeah, well, how many times has he gotten that close to Dissonance before?”

“None, I guess.”

With one swift flick of his wrist, the twine came neatly unwound, the knot slipping away from the little pouch in an instant. Josiah pinched the bag shut with his fingers. “We’ll figure it out later. Back up a bit.”

“What’s that, anyway?”

Octavia released her iron grip on Harper’s shoulders. In her place, Josiah leaned closer to the unconscious Maestro. “I promise you, you really do not want to inhale this crap.”

Ever so gently, Josiah unfurled his fingers just beneath Harper’s nose, the cloth satchel parting in just the slightest. In an instant, the boy’s closed eyes went wide, his body jolting as his muscles rapidly stiffened. He recoiled somewhat, gasping heavily with the effort of consuming whatever oxygen he could grasp.

With his deep breaths came mild coughing and sputtering, at which Josiah withdrew his hand. “There we go.”

“Harper,” Octavia murmured with worry. Her hands reflexively rushed to his shoulders once more as the waking world crashed down onto the Maestro.

What started as disorientation quickly became discomfort. “Oh, God, that was horrible. What even was that?”

“Are you okay?” Octavia interrupted, shaking his shoulders with mild annoyance. Josiah’s questionable medical practices weren’t of the utmost importance, at the moment.

Still upside-down, Harper peered past the brim of his cap, meeting Octavia’s worried gaze. “Hey. I’m alright, don’t worry. What, uh…what happened, exactly?”

It was a solid question, and one she couldn’t quite answer outside of the immediate vicinity of her near-death experience. Her eyes found Josiah, resheathing his somewhat-concerning mystery pouch. Harper’s attention followed her own as he propped himself up on his elbows. Josiah, in turn, bristled under their gazes.

“Can we just, like, not talk about this right now? Let’s get out of here before anything else happens,” he snapped.

When Harper’s eyes drifted to Etherion, settled upon the hardwood several feet away, Octavia could physically see the moment it clicked on his face. “Josiah, did you--”

“Drop it,” he spat bitterly. “I’m serious. Last warning.”

Harper winced. Octavia, by proxy, did the same. Largely confused, the two Maestros on the ground sat in uncomfortable silence as Josiah hurriedly donned his bag. Etherion was nearly an afterthought, snatched from the floor with far too much force. Stomping footsteps on the way out contrasted starkly with Josiah’s gentle nature only minutes earlier on Octavia’s venture inward. Of what exactly was off, she was unsure. She struggled to her own feet, pulling a staggering Harper along with her.

“Octavia!”

Renato’s voice from the entrance almost scared her, foreign as it was. Madrigal’s echo of her name immediately behind it was not quite so jarring. Still, it carried its own flavor of surprise. The shuffle of grass, hastily parted beneath frantic feet, harkened their arrival. Even if she couldn’t see them from the foyer, the two loudest people she knew were unmistakable.

“Are you guys okay?” Madrigal cried.

“We’re fine,” Octavia called back, slinging Harper’s arm over her shoulder preemptively.

“I can walk, you know,” he muttered with a gentle grin. Nonetheless, he didn’t resist.

“How’d you find us?” she asked from a distance, her voice softening as she neared the exit.

“We were walkin’ around looking for you guys and saw this…big cloud coming from outside the city. Wasn’t sure if it was Dissonance or what, but we took our chances. Came running, especially since you guys got a little absentminded,” Renato answered.

“You were able to see it from that far away?” Harper pressed. “That’s…pretty far. We’re not exactly very close to the main part of Coda.”

He tilted his head. “I mean, it just kinda…it was enough, you know?”

Harper raised an eyebrow. “You shouldn’t be able to see this place at all from Coda.”

Renato winced. “I mean, okay, to be honest, I didn’t see it, I just…kinda figured it out as I went. Purple stuff helped a bit. Kinda played it by ear from there. Worked out.”

It wasn’t a satisfying answer. Still, it was at least enough for Harper to stop eyeing him so sharply. Octavia didn’t push. Renato had a penchant for finding trouble. There was nothing new there.

When Octavia finally greeted daylight in full again, hindered only by the thickness of the forest that held it hostage, so, too, was she greeted with Stradivaria’s case in Madrigal’s arms. “Please be careful next time,” the Maestra begged.

Stradivaria’s visage was all it took for Octavia to release Harper, immediately lunging for the case as relief flooded her heart. She wanted to cry, clasping the rugged material tightly against her body. She resisted the urge to throw one thousand apologies at Stradivaria right then and there, audibly or otherwise.

With significantly less emotional weight at her side, Harper was reunited with Royal Orleans as Renato carefully lowered the case into his arms. It was enough to elicit a genuine smile, if nothing else.

Renato put his newly-freed hands on his hips. “How’d you two even get out of that mess without--”

Josiah no longer stomped angrily with each step, instead succumbing to slow and sluggish movements with empty eyes cast straight ahead. Empty, too, were his own hands, instead delegated to clasp only the strap of his bag across his chest. His path was nearly aimless. Octavia wondered if Josiah remembered exactly where he was going, if he intended to leave the forest. For a moment, no one dared to break his weak stride, silent as he walked alone.

“What’s…going on with you?” Renato finally asked uncomfortably.

He didn’t answer.

“Josiah, please,” Octavia pleaded. “I don’t understand, just talk to us.”

“I’ll talk when I’m ready. I’m…going back to Viola’s place. Leave me alone for a bit,” he muttered.

“Josiah,” Madrigal spoke, her voice monotone.

He came to a stop momentarily. “Most of all, keep her the hell away from me. I don’t want her anywhere near me in any way. Now is not the time. Leave me alone.”

Madrigal’s lip quivered.

Renato scowled. “The hell is your problem? She’s just worried about you, idiot! Don’t talk to her like that!”

He only walked onwards once more, his voice shaking somewhat as he offered his back to them collectively. “I’m not talking about Madrigal.”

Renato’s face fell, his anger dissipating in an instant. No one argued further with the boy as he escaped their vicinity--albeit with a simple walk rather than a frantic run. At the very least, they could safely count on the place to which he fled in his time of distress. There was little to do but watch as he grew smaller and smaller, the depths of the forest swallowing him whole. Octavia seriously did pray he knew where he was going.

“Where’s Viola?” she asked.

Renato rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “She stayed behind. I think she needed some space for a bit. We kinda left her alone.”

“Should we leave Josiah alone for a while, too?” Madrigal murmured.

Octavia nodded. “I think that might be for the best.”

Renato sighed. “You two comin’ back to Vi’s yet?”

Octavia wasn’t particularly surprised when Harper shook his head. “I think I might spend some time at the camp for a bit. Haven’t been there in a little while. Might do me some good to go home.”

Renato smiled. “We ever gettin’ introduced to any of these people?”

Harper shrugged. “A few of them are kind of weird about meeting new people.”

“Do you want your space, then?” Octavia asked.

By comparison, Octavia was surprised when Harper shook his head with a grin. “I…actually wouldn’t mind having you come along and see everyone again. If you’d like, I mean.”

“Oh, so Octavia gets special treatment,” Renato jeered, crossing his arms.

“I’ve met them before,” she shot back, rolling her eyes.

Harper chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do about giving everyone a formal welcome eventually.”

“Then we’ll go home,” Madrigal offered, clasping her hands together behind her back. “I…guess we’ll try to give everyone their space.”

Renato tilted his head. “Seriously? We came all the way over here and we’re already getting kicked out?”

“Renato,” Madrigal said softly, a single word of gentle scolding. Silently, she met his eyes. She flickered her own between him, Harper, and Octavia exactly once.

It took him a moment to blink. “I’m guessin’ we can’t go swimming again, at least.”

“You’re gonna be alone with Madrigal and going on a date hasn’t occurred to you?” Harper teased.

Renato’s face exploded into a brilliant grin. “Actually, that’s a great idea! Sometimes I completely forget we’re together.”

“That’s not a good thing,” Octavia deadpanned.

“You up for that, Maddie?” Renato asked, his voice bubbling with excitement as he elbowed Madrigal.

Madrigal nodded with a nervous chuckle, smiling weakly. “That sounds fun.”

Even as she made off with Renato, the discrepancy between her standard attitude and her reaction was disorienting. Octavia raised an eyebrow as they departed, slowly growing more confused with more or less everyone as the day crawled on. It was Renato, in a twist of fate, who refused to stop talking as the two of them slipped into the depths of the forest.

It left herself and Harper alone at the threshold, stagnant in the entrance to the decrepit remains of his home. She didn’t feel comfortable turning to face it head-on for a second time. She was already distressed enough simply knowing the structure was behind her.

“Guess we got our alone time back,” Harper joked quietly.

“I should smack the hell out of you,” Octavia spat.

“What?”

With a moment of isolation at last, she turned to him at her side as she bristled. “Don’t you ever pull that ‘giving up’ crap on me ever again. If I tell you there’s a way out, there’s a way out.”

“But--”

“If I’m not allowed to give up, neither are you. I don’t care how bad things look or how screwed we get. You’re not allowed to take the easy way out. We go down fighting or not at all. Got it?”

He was quiet for a moment. “Is that an order from my fearless leader?”

Octavia faltered briefly, but caught a smile on the tail end of a laugh. “You know it.”

Harper wasn’t immune to her infectious grin. Still, his words still carried with them a weight far too heavy for her heart to withstand. “It’s just…I’m pretty sure those were my parents’ memories. It felt wrong to shut them out. If it was your sister, instead, would you have fought back?”

With her once-confident grin slipping into oblivion, Octavia couldn’t offer him an answer. She didn’t want to entertain the idea, hypothetically or otherwise. She wouldn’t need to imagine, ultimately. She’d be burdened with the weight of Priscilla's memories soon enough.

Getting back was the easy part, given how Harper served as her extremely convenient guide. She wondered how long it had taken for the others to find their way back to their own respective destinations. The lengthy routes they’d taken to the ruined remains of a home so distant made for no brief voyage. By comparison, her trip with an escort was supremely simple, freed from the wandering and aimless pointing that accompanied the one-way journey there. In what felt like an instant, Harper had returned her to the back entrance of the camp.

The haphazard dotting of tents on the near horizon served as a tell-tale sign of his true home drawing near. Octavia hadn’t been to the orphan camp since she’d first been to Coda, let alone since she’d met Harper. The colorful assortment of family members unbound by blood, much like Domino, were likely to second-guess her appearance--just as she was likely to second-guess their names, despite her best efforts. She still opted to don a smile, even in the wake of the millions of questions currently torturing her brain. She feared for her second impression.

She would’ve feared for it more, had there been anyone at the camp.

Harper shared in her surprise. The camp was effectively deserted, even beneath the inviting warmth of the playful afternoon sun. Where children had once swarmed to their beloved guardian, magnetized by his presence alone, they instead found not one tiny soul. The silence was jarring, filled only by the rustling wind and the extremely distant sounds of true Coda on the other side of the city.

“Louise?” Harper called, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Suzanna? David?”

“Are they…usually gone at this time of day?” Octavia asked.

Harper’s hands settled onto his hips uncomfortably. “No, this isn’t right. There’s never this few people here. There’s a lot of us, even if we’re in different places during the daytime.”

“Is there anywhere they could potentially be?”

“I’m gonna be honest, I have absolutely no idea.”

Something clicked in Octavia’s head. “I saw Domino earlier.”

At the mention of the name, Harper’s eyes widened. “You saw Domino? Hey, good job, you remembered which one was Domino.”

Octavia smirked. “Don’t patronize me.”

“Where was he? Surprised you found him in the first place. He’s usually a pain in the ass to track down.”

“On the way here, in that weird little alley maze…place…thing. The one you dragged me through that one time.”

“The one where you figured out how slow you run,” he teased.

“I changed my mind. Maybe I will smack you.”

He laughed. “That’s how you found me, isn’t it?”

“Hmm?”

Harper smiled softly. “He’s got a big mouth. He told you where I went?”

Octavia shrugged. “He said he had a general idea.”

“It was supposed to be a secret,” he muttered, not devoid of the same smile tainting his lips.

“Could we ask him? Where everyone went, I mean?”

He shrugged. “If we can find him a second time.”

Octavia nodded. “He was in that little alley maze pla--you know what I mean. I don’t remember where he went after that, though.”

Harper grinned. “Then we can always start at the little alley maze place thing.”

“Don’t make fun of me.”

Harper laughed once more. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t help but do the same. If nothing else, this, at least, was familiar. She resolved to cling to it as best as she could.

“Octavia?”

That, too, was familiar--so much so that she nearly broke her neck with the speed at which she turned her head. She hunted desperately for a voice she hadn’t heard in what felt like far too long. In truth, it had only been several hours. It didn’t matter.

“Harper?” it came again, softer and more unsure.

Harper’s reaction, while somewhat more muted, still carried with it a similar urgency. When his eyes followed Octavia’s own in tandem, floating to a faded, orange-tinted canvas tent not so far away, they widened in turn just the same. It was not lost on Octavia the degree to which the delicate orange contrasted with the royal blues of the dress and bow. With such prim attire as always, her style was starkly out of place, given the environment.

Viola threw her eyes deep into the gravel, her lip quivering not-so-subtly. Her hands, aimless, practically crushed her own fingers as they tangled together. Even relative to the size of Silver Brevada’s case on her back, typically smaller than her general proportions by a longshot, it was Viola who seemed small instead.

Her face, reddened and splashed with dried trails of tears long since shed in excess, broke Octavia’s heart. The urge to race to Viola’s side and gather the Maestra in her arms was irresistible. The urge to hand her the world in place of pain was much the same.

“I-I--” Viola stammered, her voice cracking.

As had been the case so many times, Harper was once again a much faster runner than her.

His arms were opened well before her own, his body weight carefully balanced as he threw himself against Viola. Harper pulled her close, nestling his face into her shoulder as his cap brushed against her reddened cheek. He squeezed tightly and never let go, motionless as she broke down in his arms.

“Viola,” he murmured softly. That was all. For now, that was enough.

Octavia wanted to run, just as badly. Still, she granted her blessing to a moment that wasn’t hers to interrupt. She watched on, battling tears in her own eyes instead. Viola openly sobbed, clinging to Harper with an embrace just as tight. Her bow, in contrast, bounced against Harper’s cap with each soft, jittery movement of her head. She didn’t pull away when he stroked her head gently, whispering things Octavia couldn’t quite hear. She couldn’t imagine standing in those shoes at the moment--either pair of them. She would never want to.

When Harper finally pulled away, he cupped Viola’s face in both hands with a soft smile. “Am I seeing things, or is that a tan? Are you getting tan lines?” he teased.

Viola giggled, fighting for a smile through tears that still dripped bitterly down her face. Just as he’d done for Octavia several times before, Harper’s thumb brushed delicately against her cheek, swiping every last stray tear away. Witnessing the gesture from afar was almost more tender than being on the receiving end.

We’re both good at having family issues.

Octavia had nearly forgotten. Just as she and Renato had grown close through pain, so, too, had Harper and Viola in their own way. She couldn’t imagine losing her confidant. There was, certainly, much left unsaid. It was, just as certainly, not her place to pry.

Octavia was almost afraid to interject, by which she would shatter a moment not hers to break. Still, she couldn’t stand it for a moment longer. Viola’s smile blooming at last made her feel more protective than it should’ve.

“I…missed you,” Octavia said gently.

With a glance spared in her direction, Viola shared her smile. “I missed you, too.”

Above all else, for everything that had happened in the past hour, Viola’s smile brought her heart peace. She beamed.

“How did you even find this place?” Harper asked, finally parting from the Maestra. “It’s…not exactly obvious. Have you ever even been here before?”

Viola’s smile didn’t quite evaporate so much as it did slip into something more hesitant. “I…don’t know how to explain it. I just…knew where to go.”

Her answer was even less explanatory. “Knew where to go? For what?” Octavia asked.

Viola kicked at the gravel beneath her feet with discomfort, one flat digging into stray bits of rock absentmindedly. “I was trying to find Harper, but…this is gonna sound so stupid. It was like I found something else. I followed that. Ended up here. Assumed this was the camp in question.”

Octavia and Harper exchanged a puzzled glance. Viola wasn’t ignorant to the gesture.

“I am well aware that it sounds insane. You don’t have to sugarcoat it.”

Harper shrugged. “Not the weirdest thing that’s happened today.”

When Viola raised an eyebrow, Octavia pursed her lips. “We have a lot to talk about later. There’s a bit of a bigger problem, first. Have you seen anyone around here? Like, at all? On your way here or otherwise?”

Viola shook her head. “Not a soul. Just kept following…nothing, I guess.”

Harper blinked. “Do you…want to keep following ‘nothing’?”

“Do you have any idea how stupid it sounds when you say it like that?” Viola groaned.

“We’re looking for someone. Curly hair, no shoes,” Octavia began.

“I cannot stress enough that he does own shoes. He keeps friggin’ insisting on taking them off,” Harper complained. “Anyway, he’s abrasive, confrontational, kinda hard to deal with. You’d know him if you saw him.”

Viola jabbed a thumb backwards. “Renato went home already.”

Harper choked. Octavia groaned. “Shorter. Freckles. And he lives around here.”

“Renato wears shoes,” Harper muttered under his breath, still snickering.

“What color curls?” Viola asked.

“Brown,” Octavia answered.

“Shorts?”

“Yeah, actually.”

“Black shirt, ripped hem, holes in the lower left corner?”

“What?”

With little hesitation, Viola raised one finger up and beyond Octavia’s shoulder. Both Maestros followed in turn, the object of Viola’s supposed description more or less dead-on to her wording. There were, in fact, holes in the lower left corner of Domino’s shirt. Octavia had never actually noticed. Face-to-face, with his hands firmly settled into his pockets, she had all the time in the world to size him up.

Harper’s own hands, with or without his knowledge, mirrored the same motion. “Hey,” was all he offered.

Domino nodded exactly once. “Hey.”

Octavia waved. Domino didn’t return her hospitality, and she lowered her hand uncomfortably.

“Where’s everyone?” Harper asked, a weak smile settling onto his lips.

“No ‘I missed you’?” Domino muttered disdainfully.

“Of course I missed you. I always miss you. I miss everyone.”

“Liar.”

Harper shrugged, hands still lodged in his pockets. “You don’t have to believe me if you don’t want to, but it’s the truth. Where is everyone?” he repeated.

“Loaded question,” Domino answered simply.

Harper raised an eyebrow. “Okay, weird answer. What’s that supposed to mean?”

Octavia tensed. The silence of the camp and the awkwardly-large distance between the two orphans left the entire interaction uncomfortable. She blamed family dynamics. It did little to mitigate her discomfort.

“They’re not usually this bad,” she whispered to Viola, her eyes still cast before her.

The odd clicks and movements at her back were as inexplicable as they were unimportant. Viola was getting comfortable for drama not theirs to witness, maybe. The thought felt insensitive. It was better than the assumption that she was back to kicking gravel again. Octavia chose to drink in the scene rather than take questionable guesses.

“If you cared, you’d be here,” Domino spat.

“You know why I’m not here,” Harper said, his voice quiet.

“Barely.”

“I told you, I had things to take care of. I’ll be back when I’m done with them, I promise.”

“The kids keep asking where you went. The little ones.”

Harper winced. “I told them. You know I told them. I told you to tell them if they asked, too.”

“They know you’re back in Coda. They know you’re not visiting, let alone not staying here.”

He bit his lip. “I have to be away from here for a bit. It’s not by choice.”

“And that’s why you’re sleeping in a bed, in a warm mansion, with hot food and three square meals and a bath every damn day.”

“That’s…not--”

Domino scowled. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Domino, listen to me.”

“Tell me I’m wrong, Harper.”

Harper gritted his teeth. “How do you even know about that? Are you following me?”

“And if I am? What are you gonna do about it? You don’t even remember we exist.”

“Stop with that crap,” Harper snapped. “I’ll be back, I swear. My word is true.”

Domino laughed--a single, bitter sound that cut sharply through the air. “On the contrary. You’re the biggest liar I’ve ever met.”

“This is…extremely uncomfortable,” Octavia whispered to her back once more.

Viola’s lack of input was somewhat annoying. She chalked it up to enraptured interest, intrusive as it possibly was. The clicking, movement, and shuffling, at least, had stopped entirely.

Harper sighed. “I’m gonna ask again. Stop making this difficult. Where is everyone?”

“This is my problem now, not yours. Can’t trust you for a damn thing.”

“You are really getting on my nerves. If you wanna play around with me, fine, but don’t get the kids wrapped up in it. Tell me what’s going on.”

Domino inhaled sharply. “I’m dealing with it.”

“Dealing with what?”

“Don’t worry about it. Not your problem anymore. None of us are your problem anymore. We’re barely a friggin’ afterthought to you.”

“Domino, dealing with what? Are you in danger? Talk to me!”

“Do you think we should do something?” Octavia whispered.

When she, yet again, didn’t earn a response, she ran out of patience. Octavia finally peered over her shoulder, expecting at least some form of input in any capacity. An eye roll, a sharp remark, or even being shushed would’ve been better than being ignored.

Silver Brevada, by comparison, was absolutely unexpected.

Octavia’s eyes widened in horror. “What are you--”

Her cry went uncompleted. With narrow, focused eyes, Viola exhaled sharply into the mouth of the flute. Shrill notes from swift fingers birthed sinfully-sharp icicles, fanning out parallel to her head. Coagulating on either side in a variable lineup of frosted artillery, all it took was several additional breaths and flicks of her wrist to send them spearing onwards. A perfect spiral of deadly crystal on all sides sailed through the air.

Without remorse, they sliced past Octavia’s head, sailed over Harper’s, and locked with the utmost precision onto Domino. Her song was as true as her aim, and the speed at which she unleashed the simplest of attacks far outmatched anything Octavia or Harper could do to intervene. She was getting faster every day.

Harper, too, had no time to scream. There was no time to shield Domino, to question Viola’s assault, or to draw forth Royal Orleans and launch a self-defensive counterattack by proxy. He hardly had time to process the sight, either from behind him or before him. With eyes full of terror, ice was put to shame by fire that matched his own.

The speed at which bright, vibrant flames echoed outwards in a gusting circle made Octavia briefly second-guess her own eyesight. Each icicle, in turn, was swallowed whole by the whirling inferno, crackling as they rapidly withered to pitiful crisps before dissipating forever. The heat was scorching, the sight was blinding, and Octavia’s arms over her face did little to shield her from either. Everything occurred so quickly that she’d hardly had time to process what she’d witnessed. Only the wavering heat mirages seizing the air served as lingering evidence of the spectacle. The warmth of her skin, too, served as an ample reminder in its own way.

There was a brief moment in which she feared relentlessly for Domino, her stomach twisting into a knot at the boy’s sudden disappearance behind the blaze. She needn’t have worried. She learned that fast enough.

What remained behind the final dying embers were two bare feet braced firmly against the unforgiving gravel. What remained were furious eyes tinged with just a hint of hatred. What remained was a harmonica pressed to lips that, moments ago, had instead spoken words of malice instead of breathing songs of flame.

Viola tilted her head, her gaze laced with razors. “I knew it.”