Selene took a quick breath. The water moved a fraction of an inch closer to her. She sang it out a little farther, to make sure she’d have room to breathe. Behind her, steps led to the door, back to the safety of the opera house.
Selene was tired of playing it safe. She was tired of being the girl who did everything right. She’d been that girl, and she’d lost. She clenched her hands into fists, her nails biting into her palms. She wasn’t going to go back now.
She pushed a path through the water—just a few feet. The light rose and followed her. The stone floor had been worn by underground currents into ripples and waves. There was onlywater and the slither and shimmer of the things that lived here now.
Who else knew about this forgotten space? Was this why they’d been urged away from the underground floors? Or had this secret died with the last person who had braved its depths?
A voice rang from out of the darkness. Silky baritone, warm and robust. It was the sound of coming home after a lifetime of being away. She leaned into the beauty of it, dark and free and effortless. Oh, she should have been afraid of the voice that called to her in the dark. But she was lured by its loveliness, tantalized by the richness and complexity. She knew it was foolish to follow that sound, and a part of her screamed at her to turn back. But then he leaned into the dissonance, resolving at the very last second. He caught her rhythm and fell into the offbeat. It was so clever and improbable, and there was no way she could leave without seeking the source of that.
There was someone on the other side of the water. He matched her melody and split into a counterpoint, adding depth and dimension to the motif for water. He did brilliant, unthinkable things, contrary to her training and somehow perfect. His voice was so beautiful, lovely enough that she could close her eyes and let herself drown.
Selene had to find him.
But Selene was at the bottom of an underground lake, water flung out by the power of her voice at all sides. The stairway back was half-formed, worn to rubble beneath the water. There was no guarantee there was another way out.
She should let the water fall around her, lift her up, so she could swim her way out. That was the logical thing to do; it was what Madame would have wanted from her.
Yesterday, Selene might have turned back.
But she wasn’t that girl anymore. Maybe she was never that girl. Either way, she’d been made new. She took a step on the slick, uneven ground, pulled to the voice as if by a string. She focused the magic, cutting through the water. It glowed brilliantly around her, lighting her hands and catching in the gold thread of her dress. It was like walking through the night sky, the bioluminescence casting constellations all around her. She’d remember this and use it in performance, someday. It was far more beautiful than she dared to dream.
There were remnants of a life lived down here. Fallen wall sconces dark with algae, a set of chairs that barely held their shape through the rot, something that looked like chains, now flaked with rust. She pushed toward the back of the cavern. A tiny fish fluttered on the stone for a few frantic moments before it was swept up by the water in Selene’s wake.
Selene sang louder, changing the key. The stranger met her, matched her. He danced around the motif for water, playing off her notes. This strange duet enraptured her, pulling her closer and closer to the source. His voice was elegant and grounded. She was used to baritones anchoring her lyric soprano, but this was more. She inverted the motif. He was quick to respond, catching the wisps of melody and shaping it into a story. She could feel his loneliness and loss, his curiosity and hunger. She wanted to know the ending. Wanted to be a part of it.
The water swirled away from her, revealing a second set of stairs, this one still fully intact. Selene ascended, illuminated by the constellation of bioluminescence. The water folded on each step behind her, splashing up and darkening her hem.
She tried not to let the timpani roll of her heart or the cymbal crash of the water distract from the sound of his voice, growing closer with each step, echoing in the dark. Until they were matched, sound for sound. As if he were singing right beside her.
But there was no one. Nothing.
She let her voice taper off. The water churned behind her.
Selene sang the light back into her bleeding palm.
A great, beveled mirror stood in the center of the flat stone. The frame was molten gold, shifting and moving in strange patterns around the edge of the glass. It was as if lightning had struck the frame and it had failed to settle into a solid state.
Fear and fascination warred inside her. She should run, turn back and forget about this place. But she was afraid if she left, it would be the end of the dream.
She stepped closer.
She saw herself inside the mirror, and the magnificent dress, damp and blood splattered. It had been years since she’d truly seen herself. Selene rarely left the opera house, which meant her opportunities to catch her reflection were limited. She undid the buttons around her throat. The scars had faded silver, the grooves not as deep as she always imagined. She swallowed and watched them tremble. They were a choker of memory. A spiderweb of sorrow.
The blood from her cut palm dripped onto the hollow of her throat. A dark jewel against her fragile flesh.
The mirror rippled.
A shift in the shadow. A face in the dark.
The ghost.
It was like looking through a veil of smoke. Broad shoulders, wide chest, tall, and strong. Not a monster, but a man. He was all shape and shadow, except for his eyes. They were a clear, bright blue, like frozen mountain rivers and the turn of froth on the sea.
Pleading. Hungry. Beautiful.
If eyes were the window to the soul, then she knew all she needed to know about this ghost. She knew the depth of that loneliness and the weight of that loss. She wanted to share in the sorrow that seemed to plague them both. It was like meeting an old friend, someone her soul inherently knew. She could call it fate or providence or magic.
Selene sang the melody for light. He matched her, note for note, then broke into a discordant harmony.
