Chrysalis Ch17: Blood in the Market (pt3) (Patreon)

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          Astraea barely sits up as Neith drags herself to her.
          "L!" Ian calls as he barrels over, waving. "L, mate, how the fuck did ya just talk ‘im down!? Fuckin’ why did ya talk him down?"
          L runs over to meet him, half-tackling him in a hug.
          "Ian,” she gasps out, relief spilling over her. “I’m sorry I left you, I didn’t mean… it wasn’t me who-”
          As Ian hears her words, he stiffens a little. "Wasn't you? You mean-" He looks at L conspiratorially, poking her arm, pinching her cheek, squinting into her eyes. "This fuckin’ Lyra I’m huggin’ right now, issit?”
          L whips her antennae back and forth with a quick shake of her head. "No, no, no. Not like she'd tell you, but it's me." She glances sidelong at the pile of rubble, picking out where she had stood. "A minute ago, though..."
          "So she just… pops in? Takes over? Just like that?" Ian snaps his fingers. The longer he holds the thought, the greyer his face becomes.
          "Sometimes? If there's something she- actually, you know what? I have no idea what the bloody rules are. And I’m not taking the risk of pretending I do." She rubs at her temples. “I don’t get to observe when my own mind’s being captured. All I know is that she can take control, and does if I sing."
          Ian's shoulders slump. He bites thoughtlessly on his knuckle, trying to put things together. "... Arright. We dunno. Hardly a new state of mind for us ‘ere. But, like… there’s gotta be some trigger or-"
          Ian is interrupted by the shifting of nearby debris. A voice like autumn leaves trembles out a name.
          "L?"
          The dryad is propped up by Neith, now sporting a black eye and a collection of lacerations. They’re both ducking under mangled copper beams. Astraea's hair is utterly devoid of its normal life, hanging limply from her head, brittle and lifeless. They're standing not ten paces away, clearly baffled at the pair in front of them.
          L and Ian both jump back. L’s wings flutter out in fright, barely missing Ian’s chin. Neith offers a quick, sharp-fanged smile at their reflex.
          "Twitchy, lolly- " the snicker quickly becomes a wince, and Neith has to hold her side as she grimaces. L glowers back at her, pressing into Ian’s arm. Resting on his support.
          "I can chase ‘em off," Ian’s whispers in a low, tight growl. He kicks a bit of rebar free and leans down to pick it up. “Just say the-”
          "Why did you help us?" Astraea's voice cuts through. Ian hesitates ever so slightly, his earlier confusion still clear on his brow. The ends of the dryad’s hair lift like soft embers as she tries to stand up straighter. L notes that her last explosion left her completely unconscious. She must be practising. But as Neith’s eyes continue to whiten up, it’s clear to L that neither looks capable of a fight.
          As much as one can trust a fae’s looks.
          "We don’t need that, Ian,” L gently points to the rebar, finally braving a glance at Astraea’s eyes. “They’re about to leave, right?”
          It's hard not to follow the dance of lights flickering through Astraea’s hair. Fitful fireflies, unsure and unsteady. She’s trying not to pout. “L, please, I-”
          "Why did I help?” L continues. “Because I’ll be quite boring for the King if you die, right? I don’t like taking risks where you’re involved." There's a quiver in her voice that she can't quite shut down. L’s eyes peer back to the side.
          Away from the lights.
          "I… see.” A little flicker seems to die in Astraea's eyes. It tugs at L’s attention, lingering in the margins of her awareness. “For the King, then. Only for the King.”
          Neith gives a pained chuckle, eyes glittering as she gives L an uncomfortably searching look. "Oi, right, just being risk-averse. Same reason I ever talk to a bloody merrow boss-"
          “Neith.” Astraea’s says, cutting the leannán sídhe off beneath a sharp glare. It almost pierces the dryad’s exhaustion. "It doesn’t matter why. We are both in your debt. Please, allow me some means to repay you."
          Mist accumulates at the corners of Astraea’s eyes like condensation on a glass. “You saved my life.”
          "You can repay me by going home, the Ebony Wilds or wherever you come from" L snaps, folding her arms around herself and turning away. "You’ve made it abundantly clear you want to help, but we..." She runs her hand through her hair, struggling to keep her breathing quiet.
          "We’ve got a handle on things. We don't need your help." L's breath pulls at her. The pace catching. Her body is clearly upset, but L’s unsure who’s upsetting it.
          The dryad’s prior excitement visibly wilts, little lights in her eyes and hair snuffing out. She looks too exhausted to cry.
          Neith's face tightens at the sight. She puts a hand on Astraea's shoulder, forcing herself to stand upright. "Watch the tongue, dinner mint. She’s offering hospitality to you ingrates. We’ll leave when we bloody mean to, not because you're snivelling and whinging at us like some-"
          "What are you even doing here?" L snaps at Neith, twirling around and balling her fists. The upset feeling only grows. "Are you following me again? Come up with some new torment to try out?"
          "Actually, lolly, I’ve got better things to do than run around with a butterfly net," Neith says lazily, the edge starting to leave her voice. "It's just a little shopping trip. Heard of them? Room service up in those Suites is a bloody nightmare. You try getting those posh tossers to add a double of redcap blood to your bill, see how that goes."
          Neith’s eyes narrow as she continues. "And, since you started it, what's a little jellybean like you doing in the Apothecary, anyhow? Gotta hankering for fae blood after the last taste?  You remember the one, on the balcony? I certainly won’t forget." Neith's laugh carries a vicious undertone as she brandishes her arm.
          “Or maybe,” Neith straightens up, eyeing Ian. “You wanna buy something for the big gummy bear? You look great with that rebar, honey. So intimidating, truly.”
          “And here I thought you’d be full after four courses of drywall,” Ian snarls back, waving his weapon. “I’ll still gladly give you a nice big gobstopper.”
          “Oh,” Neith smirks with a wink.
          Astraea lifts a hand, curiosity brightening her eyes. "Neith asks a good question. I thought the Glade was providing for you, L."
          "This isn't-” L draws back, suddenly apprehensive. "I mean… look, it doesn’t matter. You can’t help. We’re just-”
          Astraea hops forward, her hands clapping together. The lights in her eyes have rekindled. "Just here to buy something!"

+++

          Despite her exhaustion, a glimmer of wonder sparkles in Astraea's eyes as she wanders through the little song shop. One hand grazes her chin, the other hovering over the glass display cases. A brief eruption of light passes through every shiny bauble and glittering jewel she walks by, each drinking deeply from the embers her hair has settled into. Exploding in reflection and refraction.
          ‘Keira’ the Goblin Girl has become far more enthused since the dryad’s appearance; she now bounces along her side, showcasing the higher end merchandise, even dropping the occasional sales pitch. As Keira watches Astraea, her eyes also burst in surges of light, though L suspects it’s for entirely different reasons.
          The shop’s small frame is crowded with products and tight shelves. Since only one other could fit, and neither dared leave their charge outnumbered, Ian and Neith have been left outside. L can still hear them growling at each other.
          “Mmmm… not those ones," L shakes her head, wings flickering nervously, as the clerk points to a box of what’s apparently songs, nestled in a high shelf. She can see the glint of gold inlay, and only guess what that means in terms of price. Astraea looks at her in confusion.
          “Why not? You haven’t even tried them out.”
          "Yeah, well, it’s just the… vibe of it. It seems a bit too, uh, formal." L forces a smile, gesturing at the line of songs on the lower shelves. The boxes are well-made, carved with intricate designs. But they’re only wood.
          "I like these a lot more. They’re more rustic, don’t you think?”
          Astraea nods with an arching eyebrow, crouching down and exploring the other artefacts. Rings, bracelets, earrings, necklaces. Brooches and amulets. The goblin unlocks the door and slides open the glass partition.
          "Sample as many as you’d like!" ‘Keira’ chirps, nodding deferentially. “We have all the time in the world, milady.” L couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling.
          "So, can I hear about why you’d like a song?" Astraea asks without looking up, tracing the outline of a ring. She plucks up a pocket watch, fingers twirling across it as she finds and slips a switch.The clock face glows in her reflection.

"It's… it’s just personal stuff. I don’t really wanna talk about it," L replies, but it’s clear the dryad is only listening to the device in her hand. A few seconds pass as her lips slowly curl into a bemused smile. She laughs, light as air, then flips the switch, sets it down, and paws at another.
          L quickly snatches the pocket watch, holding it curiously, pressing at the switch.
          "Uh, sorry, how do you make this… work? Do I-" There’s a click, and L jerks back in surprise as a soft, lyrical tune resounds through her brain. She’s not familiar with the music, but it floats comfortably in her mind as if she’s heard it a dozen times.
As if someone else remembers it.
          "Ah!" L nearly drops the watch, holding it at arm's length. The song continues its flowing rhythm, growing louder as she tilts it back and forth. "W-what did I do? How do I turn it off?"
          Astraea giggles lightly, her grey pallor slowly returning to peach. Bruises are starting to appear across her arms.
          "May I?" Astraea reaches over without pausing, pressing the watch into her palm. As soon as L loses contact, the song cuts with a little pop, like a record needle pulled mid-note.
          Astraea holds the device up, pointing to the side. "See this little switch here? That’s called the ‘input switch’. It lets your spirit hear the song. All internally. But, when you take the switch the other way, then it’s on output. It doesn’t play anything, not directly, but, pushing this button here..."
          Astraea presses her thumb in, and a new warm glow covers her eyes. Something seems to pull her upright, like a marionette on a string.
          Gesturing with her right arm, the dryad opens her mouth and sings:
“Wych eneth fach annwyl,
Sy’n lodes mor lan,
Ei gwyneb yn wridog,
A’i danedd mán, mán,”
          With a shake of her head, Astraea switches the button to ‘off’, cutting the song short with a cough. Her cheeks catch the fire that's settled into her hair.
          "S-sorry you had to hear that,” Astraea giggles again. “I’m not really a singer, but I always loved hearing…" She trails off. When she realises L is watching her confusedly, Astraea quickly slides the watch into her hand.
          "I think you’d sound lovely with any of these… Would you like to try?”
          L looks at the pocket watch suspiciously, then clicks the switch in the same way Astraea had. The world shifts - it reminds her of Lyra reaching out, but where that always darkened her vision, the clock makes the world bright. L feels herself straighten up a little, her mouth falling open. She doesn’t control it, but the pull feels weak, a single switch away from nothingness.
          So, very unlike Lyra. Knowing that…
“A’i dau lygaid gleision,
A’i dwy ael fel gwawn,
Fy nghalon a’i carai,
Pe gwyddwn y cawn.”
          L clicks the switch off, releasing a breath of air and setting the watch back on the counter. At least she knows how they function, but… she’d prefer to understand the lyrics.
          "Thanks," L nods, picking over the objects Astraea's already abandoned. Most of them seem to be some form of jewellery - that should make it easy to hide, at least.
          “Are you looking for something to perform at the Glade?” Astraea’s voice travels like flowing water.
          L sighs at the question, but hesitantly nods. It doesn’t exactly take Cadogan and his little bird to figure that out.
          Astraea bites at her thumb, quickly scrolling through the shelf, flipping each switch for a single moment. "Well, these are all very cute, and the ‘vibe’ might be ‘rustic,’ but…”
          Her voice is tinged with nervousness. A pinch of hope. A garnish of fear. Each word spoken as if it will flutter the moth beside her. "...Do you mind if we look at... some of the other songs?"
          L's antennae lift. There’s a claw of anxiety slashing her chest, but the question is so harmless. "Why?" L asks, gesturing at the others, her face knitting in puzzlement. "What's wrong with these?"
          A small smirk tugs at the edge of Astraea’s lips. "Well, if you'd like to perform nursery rhymes for your patrons, I'm sure a few will find it amusing. I don’t think I’ve been to a human bar before, but I assume that’s unorthodox."
          Astraea’s smile seems to sparkle, so effortless and vibrant. She pulls herself up to a standing position. "But it’s your song, L. I’ll buy whatever you’d like.”
          L can't help it. She lets out a quiet laugh, her wings drooping exaggeratedly.
          "Okay, okay. Fair point," she sorts through a pair of clasps and a necklace, frowning. "They can't all be rubbish, though."
          Immediately, the nymph can feel goblin eyes shooting daggers into her back. L coughs defensively. "Er. For this! F-for the thing I need tr just this one instance! It’s a really, really lovely store!” Keira recoils with a wink.
          L jolts as she hears the scrape of a ladder. Astraea is pushing it against the top shelf, eyes on the gold inlays. “Uh, are you sure we need to go back there? There’s gotta be other shelves. Something a bit more… affordable…" L’s breath hitches as she notes the slip.
          "I think my life is quite valuable. You deserve something nice for saving it." Astraea climbs the ladder with spritely steps, fishing through the box.
          These items aren't copper, or worn, or old. They shine and shimmer, with embroidery, engravings, and encrusted jewels. She continues perusing, picking, listening, dropping, until she reaches a gilded bracelet with a gorgeous black pearl inset. The switch is flicked.
          As Astraea tilts her head to a silent melody, her unusual exuberance shifts to a quiet, pensive expression. With a wistful smile, she seems to listen to the song in full.
          “Astraea?” L can’t keep herself from asking. The flickering lights in the dryad’s hair have gone out again. Tears sparkle in her eyes. Gently, tenderly, Astraea switches the song to off.
          "This." Astraea holds up the bracelet, engraved golden vines stretching across the jewel, glinting in the light. "I think this is perfect. It sounds like something Lyra would sing." Astraea finally turns around, offering L her hand.
          "Would you like to listen?"
          "It’s not about whether Lyra would-" L stops mumbling when she realises the dryad is, again, not listening. L hesitates as the bracelet hovers near her, but curiosity precedes caution. It clearly moved Astraea…
          L takes a deep breath, then grips the edge without placing it around her wrist, fumbling for the switch. This one is carefully concealed, tucked away beneath an engraved leaf like a little berry.
          "Alright." She breathes, pressing it and closing her eyes. It's...
Deep night,
Star’s light,
Burns bright in me,
          ...haunting. And familiar. Even without the recording’s magic, L thinks it feels… right. She jolts back to alertness, clicking the bracelet off and holding it up for scrutiny. Would it fit on her wrist? It feels like she doesn’t know her size for anything, anymore.
          She turns to the clerk. "Um, can I have my friend listen to this?"
          Keira snags a quick glance at Astraea, then nods.
          L hurries to the door. Ian and Neith are leaning against opposite sides of the alcove. Neither one dares to make eye contact… but they're not looking away, either.
          "Ian?" L asks, lowering her voice as she offers the bracelet. "Could you give this a listen? Make sure it sounds right?" She motions to the different buttons on the switch, showing him how to operate it.
          “Getting all secretive again, are we?” Ian flips it on, and his eyes go wide. "OH. It's a bit…” He follows along, going quiet. By the song’s end, he’s sharing Astraea’s wistful smile and sad expression. He nods.
          "Yeah. It’s not the same language, but it’s got the feel. Spot on, mate. How’d ya know she sounded like that?"
          "It wasn’t me who found it," L smiles at Ian, then looks back over her shoulder. She holds the bracelet against her arm. It does look nice on her wrist."Guess we’re going with this one. Thanks for the help, bruv. Been a helluva day, innit?”
          "Yeah, glad you got what you’re looking for." Ian replies, his gaze still split on Neith. She smirks a little wider. "Even if we had to involve these two. Got enough to cover it? Pearl looks a bit fresher than ‘bottom shelf.’
          "I tried ‘bottom shelf’, but she insisted. She doesn’t care about cost at all." L frowns. This isn’t a debt. It beholds her to nothing. There shouldn’t be anything to worry about. Even if she is involving Astraea. It’s not like…
          Bloody hell. Why did everything have to be so complicated?
          "Lemme get this wrapped," L rushes back into the shop, brandishing up the bracelet and clearing her throat. "I'll have this one, thanks."
          L digs around in her pocket, pulling out the coins. It's probably more of a token gesture than anything else, but-
          "You like it?" Astraea's expression brightens, and she happily taps the counter top with a… credit card. Obsidian, like Cadogan’s. Astraea’s face flashes in panic.
          "O-oh my, I’m so sorry, I didn't mean to assume… is that… all you have?” Astraea is staring at the coins in L’s palm, concern mixing into her curiosity.
          "N-no, no, it's-" L stammers, then looks away, her cheeks heating up. "I just thought, you know, you were getting the difference..."
          Astraea takes a step closer, her hand brushing L’s. The feeling is electric. She closes each finger around the coins with a gentle touch, until her palm is rubbing L’s fist.
          "Fae like gifts, L. Please, keep your pay," Astraea holds up her card. "My Grove has more money than ideas for spending it. You deserve their wealth more. And if I can cut at them while repaying you…"
          Her expression is harsh and her voice bitter. “I’d consider it two victories. I know you don’t trust me, or this, but… the world owes you a greater kindness than one song.” Astraea shrugs. “It really can be that simple.”
          It's not.
          It never is.  
          Is it?
          "...If you’re sure,” L pulls her hand away, with greater difficulty than she’d like. Her wings flick up. Just a little. "Thank you."
          "Anytime." Astraea smiles and slides a salivating Goblin her card.


continue reading ->

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This chapter was so fun to write.  Nice to get some Cadogan v Neith beat down and a little Astraea comeuppance.  But... maybe also the hint at the start of mending a bridge between the lamp and the moth?

Chapter 18.1, Debutante is due to post Friday September 9th! Now that L has her song, will she be able to perform for the Glade without losing herself to Lyra?   Even if she doesn't, will anyone KNOW she's relying on magic?   I guess she could always start taking singing lessons from Madeline.  (￢‿￢ ) .

Thanks for reading!
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