Mandy nodded, counting on her fingers as she spoke. “False alarms create fatigue. Fatigue leads to mistakes. A soft evening could be a stronger ward than the ones I have placed outside.”
Mary drifted in, poured coffee, and didn’t comment, which was as good as a yes from her.
Byron leaned on the counter near Lucy. “You sure you can switch off?”
“I’m not switching off,” she said. “I’m just going to try and make this my new norm by including the fun. It’s a tactic.”
He considered that and nodded. “Okay. Tactic approved.”
“See?” Lucy said to Corey. “I have executive support.”
Corey rolled his eyes. “You have my support if someone else is on washing up.”
Erin lifted her hand without looking up from a worksheet Davina had printed. “I can help. I’m big.”
“You are,” Lucy agreed. “And you are promoted to Chief Spoon Stacker.”
Erin blinked at Davina, impressed. “I have a job.”
Lucy laughed, and the sound turned the air lighter in the room.
Everyone was excited for the evening's events; Damien went on a food and drink run Barnaby found a string of old fairy lights in a box marked “Winter” and strung them along the beams inthe main room. Mary side-eyed him and then, when he wasn’t looking, adjusted one loop by an inch as if it had offended her.
Davina and Erin were sitting quietly in a corner practising Fae magic, it was such a warming sight to see, it made Corey feel terrible to interrupt. “Davina, I know I haven't had a real chance to be with you, and i was hoping tonight we could talk?” Davina smiled, of course, maybe we could dance too?” Barnaby shouted out “no” from across the room, causing Corey to blush and walk away, before he left the room he turned back to Davina and said “Let's just talk ok” “Ok” she responded. Lucy whispered “I’ll explain to you later why dancing is a no go”
By late afternoon the house smelled like citrus and bread and warm wood. Corey found a speaker that still worked and, with Barnaby’s infinite confidence, created a playlist. Sam discovered a case of something appley in the cellar and came back looking pleased.
Lucy showered and changed. She put on jeans and a soft jumper and tied her hair up. When she caught her reflection, she paused. She looked less like a weapon and more like a person, and for a beat that was a relief.
Byron knocked on the door and leaned in. “Ready?”
“Yes, I am” she said, ready to claim a few hours of peace.
Evening brought the kind of soft light that flatters old rooms. The fairy lights glowed; the security screens idled in greyscale at the edge of everyone’s peripheral vision like a well-behaved chaperone. Music threaded low and easy through the air they were older tracks that Barnaby swore were classics. They ate. On the floor, around the table, leaning against the doorframes.
Mandy passed Lucy a glass and murmured, “Thank you.” The words held more weight than just for the party. Lucy shook her head. “We need it. Or I need it and you’re all indulging me.”
Mandy smiled as she twirled off. Corey tried to teach Erin a clapping game. She gloated when she beat him and he demanded a rematch and then got distracted when Barnaby, in a reckless mood, attempted a small dance move and nearly knocked the fairy lights off the beam.
“Stop,” Sam said from across the room without turning her head.
“I’m a natural,” Barnaby protested.
“You’re a hazard,” Mandy corrected, but she was laughing.
Lucy stood near Byron and let the sound of people settle into her body like medicine. She hadn’t realised how thirsty she was for warmth until it poured into her.
“Worth it?” Byron asked, low.
“Yes.”
They danced. Real dancing, bad and joyful. Corey did something with his shoulders that made Erin shriek-laugh and attempt to copy it. Davina swayed with Mandy, both careful to keep Erin between them and out of the drift of elbows. Sam pretended not to dance and then caught herself doing it anyway and bore it with dignity. Barnaby spun too fast and had to clutch a chair like a ship’s rail.
For an hour the bells didn’t ring.
And then they did, the bells rang.
It wasn’t the tinkling tease that had shredded their nerves all week. It was clean and layered, one note overlapping the next until they made a sound that belonged to no human instrument in the house.
