“I could learn…” Dax began.
“You could drown,” the so-called friend cut in. “You could damage your hands. You could waste your time. This is absurd. Shiare, tell him he’s being absurd. He can’t want to hang out with…” Heglanced at Marin. “Apologies, no offense meant—we appreciate you transporting all of us, but Daxicend doesn’t belong working as a supply runner. He’s the greatest composer of our generation, did you know that?”
She didn’t know that.
Embarrassed, Dax said, “Reyer…”
“You have no clue how famous he is,” the friend, Reyer, continued. “Or how important. He has natural abilities that surpass any of us. Anyone in the conservatory. The emperor himself—”
Watching Dax shifting uncomfortably, Marin interrupted. “You mean the emperor who was flung out a window? I don’t see how he gets a say in what Dax wants to do.”
Reyer opened his mouth to argue.
Shiare jumped in, sounding anguished. “Is this about not telling you about the revolution? Daxicend, you know that wasn’t our choice, and we are all so sorry. Please don’t hold it against us.”
“And don’t use it to make stupid decisions,” Reyer said.
Shiare shot him a look.
Still with a smile fixed on his face, Dax shook his head. “I know why you did what you did. There was a lot of pressure on you. I understand. I’m not angry with you. Any of you.”
He should be angry,Marin thought.I am.She wondered if he was and just hiding it. She wondered how many of his thoughts and emotions he’d had to hide or suppress inside the conservatory.
“You can’t just go sailing off,” Reyer insisted. “You have responsibilities. Not only that, you have a future. You’rethefuture. How often has Grandmaster Vorac said that? You are the future of music.”
There was, Marin thought, a touch of bitterness in his voice. Jealousy? She wondered how the other musicians felt when the grandmasters praised Dax. Honestly, she couldn’t tell the difference between them—when they’d sung together with Perri, they’d all sounded good to her. She supposed that made her less refined or whatever.
Running his hand through his hair again, Dax twisted a purple curl around one of his spiral horns. “I don’t want to argue…”
“Then don’t,” Shiare pleaded. “Come with us. You can stay with my family. I promise my mother’s harmless. Loud. Pushy and opinionated. But she makes an incredible seafood soup. You have to taste it. You’ve never visited my family. I’d love for you to meet them. I have cousins who will absolutely love you.”
Dax glanced over his shoulder at the harbor where Perri was swimming beneath a flock of overexcited birds. The horizon beyond was looking beautifully and beckoningly blue. Marin could feel it calling her, and she wondered if Dax felt the same. Or was it only that he wanted to be away from here?
In a coaxing, musical voice, Shiare said, “You say you want to see more of the world. You can do that right here, with us. Explore the island. You can try the sacred drums—I’ll teach you the rhythm to welcome the dawn. You can listen to the ghost drums, the echoes in the caves beneath the island. There’s a ton right here to explore, and you can do it with us, your friends.” Her golden eyes were fixed on Dax, wide and near impossible to refuse.
Marin wondered if Dax had ever said no to his friends before, if he’d ever truly had a choice. She wondered if he even realized it was up to him. He didn’t have to please them if he didn’t want to. He didn’t have to reshape himself into whatever other people wanted him to be. Did he even want to be the future of music?
Had anyone ever asked him what he wanted?
Marin positioned herself directly in front of him, forcing him to look at her instead of the lovely Shiare. “Dax, it’s your choice.”
He looked at her and held her gaze. She saw the four-year-old boy, given away by his parents to people who only cared about what he could do, not who he was. His future had been shaped for him. He’d been denied even the knowledge of what other options there were—the city was collapsing around him, and no one thought he should know. In fact, they actively hid the truth from him, in orderto keep him doing what they wanted him to do—because they didn’t trust him to choose “correctly” for himself.
Eyes boring into his, Marin repeated, “It’s your choice and yours alone. There’s no right or wrong. Just what you want.” She tried to put as much conviction into her words as possible.
Reyer said in a booming voice, as if volume was required to overwhelm free will, “This is ridiculous, Daxicend. Quit playing around. You know you have to stay here.”
The wording made Marin prickle. By her sides, her fists clenched. “He doesn’thaveto do anything.” She kept her gaze fixed on Dax, as if she could will him to believe her. He shouldn’t have to reshape himself to anyone’s expectations. “It’s your life.”
“What do you know, runner?” Reyer scoffed.
She turned her head and smiled, sharklike, all teeth and no light in her eyes. “I know that there’s a sea serpent twice the size of this dock who considers Dax his friend. And I know that the only creature that can go head-to-head with a sea serpent and have a prayer of winning is a kraken. And I know thatyou, musician”—she put as much derision into the word as she could—“are not a kraken.” Again facing Dax, she said, “Whatever decision you make, Perri and I will support you. Stay or not, it doesn’t matter to me what you choose, but it matters to me that it’syourchoice.”
“And me too!” Ree said, bouncing up and down. “It matters to me!”
Dax stared at Marin. His mouth opened, then closed. She saw a dozen emotions flicker over his face, too fast for her to read any of them. She thought she heard him breathe a word:“Extraordinary.”
She could have imagined it.
