A pair of gleaming yellow eyes. Bristling fur, black as coal.

And a row of teeth like little white knives flashing towards my throat.

I jump off the bench in a heartbeat, and I hear the sharp snap of the wolf’s jaws closing on thin air, in the exact spot I was a moment before.

I land hard on my back, knocking the air from my lungs. For a second everything’s a blur; I see the stars swimming in and out of focus between the swaying tree branches above me.

A shadow moves into my vision, blocking out the starlight.

I need to move. Now.

But before I can spring into action, strong arms are around me, wrapping me up, lifting me onto my feet.

“Are you ok?” A familiar voice asks.

It takes a moment for my vision to clear.

I step back, ready to bolt.

The face I see before me is the last one I expected to see right now.

It’s Robin Hood.

Or rather, Micah dressed up as Robin Hood. The pointed green hat with a red feather falls off as he bends down to pick up Grace’s copy of Alice in Wonderland, which is lying open at my feet. A green tunic, brown leggings and hunting boots completes his outfit, and a memory pops into my head.

Micah said during band practice earlier that he’d be going to the July Jubilee as Robin Hood. And Alix would be…

The Big Bad Wolf.

I turn around slowly, a wave of relief flooding over me as I spot Alix pulling a very unrealistic wolf mask off his head.

The costume looks like something out of a B-grade 80’s horror movie – a shiny fake fur suit, a snarling plastic snout, tatty ears, ridiculously long fangs.

“Sorry I freaked you out Ash,” Alix says, awkwardly reaching out and patting my back. “I thought you’d recognize it. Night Terrors VII, remember?”

Of course. How could I forget.

When the latest installment of the super corny werewolf blockbuster Night Terrors came out on DVD last summer, Alix had to wear the dumb promotional wolf costume every day after school for work at his family’s video store.

His non-stop bitching at every band practice about how itchy the suit got in the ninety-degree heat will be forever imprinted on my mind.

I feel stupid for getting such a fright, but I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something coming for me, something trying to break through the surface, and I just caught a glimpse of it.

The shadowy figure standing on the road as the bus went over the cliff. The tendrils of darkness following me through the forest’s gloom. Cold hands pulling me beneath the waves.

Bea’s words to Mrs. Leyton only minutes ago.

The dark servants are almost here.

“Ashling?” Alix says, breaking my train of thought. “You look pretty shook-”

“It’s nothing,” I say, giving him my most reassuring smile. “I guess I’ve just got the pre-show jitters. I’ll be ok once I get up on stage.”

“If you say so…” Alix says. He and Micah share a convert glance, not intended for me to see – a look heavy with concern.

“The orchestra’s about to wrap up,” Micah says. “We’re on next. We came to find you so we can start setting up, but seriously, if you’re not feeling up to it- ”

“I’m fine!” I say a little too forcefully. “Really, there’s nothing to worry about. Let’s get going.”

“Ok then, if you’re sure,” Micah says. “By the way, what were you doing sitting on the bench alone reading a book?” He hands me Grace’s copy of Alice in Wonderland, his eyes guarded, creased with concern.

“Why even bring a book to a thing like this?” Alix asks. “Ever heard of iBooks? Or Wattpad? If you wanna be a total nerd and sit in the corner reading in public, at least do it on your phone.”

“It’s Grace’s book, actually,” I begin, not sure where I’m going to take this. “We were sitting on that bench, and… Grace had got a call…”

“On her non-existent phone, you mean?” Alix asks. “You think I don’t hear you and Zee blabbering non-stop about how unfair it is that Grace’s mom won’t let her have a phone? Grace wasn’t with you, was she? What were you really doing out here alone?”

“She was here though…” I say, peering over the punch stand, where Grace was hiding.

She ran off after that creepy Robert guy called her Discordia. What was with that, anyway?

She couldn’t be involved in all this stuff… could she?

Note to self: have a serious talk with Grace asap.

“Forget about it,” I say, forcing a radiant smile onto my face. “Let’s go get set up.”

*****

“You ready for this?” Alix asks half an hour later, plugging a cable into the large black amp at the edge of the stage.

We’ve finally finished setting up and tuning our instruments, and it’s almost time for us to play.

Sound check. Done. Mic check. Done.

Time to face the music. Literally.

“I’ve never been more ready,” I say, trying to sound confident but knowing that just under the surface, I’m trembling.

Even the sight of Alix dressed up in a furry wolf outfit (minus the mask, which he threw away somewhere), and Micah in his way-too-small Robin Hood outfit, clingy brown tights and all, isn’t enough to drown out the creeping anxiety.

I try to keep my eyes on the small, safe confines of the stage, elevated from the chaos of the kaleidoscopic crowd down below, a whirlwind of fairy tale characters cheering, laughing, partying the night away… and now, waiting.

Waiting for me.

To the left of the stage, two seniors dressed as Ash and Pikachu – not quite on point with regards the fairy tale theme, but close enough I guess – are manning the sound system. They keep looking our way, waiting for the moment we’ll signal them to turn off the playlist, hook us up.

Why am I feeling this way? I’ve played in front of random strangers at the Night Owl countless times before. I’ve been hanging out with the world’s most famous rock band for the past two months. I’ve watched a woman’s face dissolve into black flames right before my eyes, for God’s sake. Why am I so scared now?

This is nothing, a walk in the park compared the past few months, the dreams and the nightmares, the echoes of my seriously screwed up past, the craziness that is Fable.

Fable.

I wish they were here tonight.

Felix. Alastaire. Ben. Lyall. Elliot.

What are they doing right now? Mixing the final track? Eating dinner? Packing their bags? They’ll be going back to England next week…

An unwelcome memory flashes before my eyes.

Felix standing before me in the forest, his eyes filled with strange fire as his lips meet mine. The swishing of wings cutting the air as an army of ravens descend through the night, gathering to their prince, just moments before I passed out.

Hallucinations. Make-believe. Fantasy.

Maybe mom’s right. I went off the meds too soon. Dammit.

I shake my head, trying to snap out of my spiraling thoughts.

My eyes slip away from the stage, and I catch a glimpse of the people down below.

Most seem distracted, not even looking my way, but I can feel them watching me out of the corners of their eyes, keenly aware of the sparkling silver shape in their peripheral vision, the glimmering fallen star whose song they are impatiently waiting to hear.

They see me.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Not just them, but… something else, too.

Watching.

The thought makes my skin prickle over, and all of a sudden my shimmering silver sequin dress feels as flimsy as spider silk, cold and clingy as fishskin, insubstantial as smoke.

A hundred eyes stare at me, through me.

I feel naked.

That old familiar feeling creeps up my spine, and in a split-second, I’m underwater.

I feel my entire world tilt.

Ice. Ice and blood and broken glass and the dark shadow pulling me down, down, down...

A breath catches in my throat like a hook in a wriggling fish, and I gasp, stumbling over on stage, almost dropping my guitar, fighting the rising nausea.

It only takes Alix a second to jump up and steady me in his arms, his dark brown eyes flickering with worry.

“Whoa, breathe girl,” he says. “We don’t have to do-”

“I’m fine,” I say, wishing it was true.

“I don’t know, you’re white as a ghost,” Micah says, suddenly placing his hand over my forehead. “No fever though. Have you eaten anything today?”

I nod, even though it’s a lie – I skipped breakfast, and I was so nervous during our band rehearsal that I literally couldn’t stomach a thing, even though Zee’s grandmother especially made us souvlaki and my favorite pistachio baklava for lunch. When my nerves are this bad, even the thought of food makes my stomach knot up.

Just like after the accident.

“Earth to Ash,” Alix says. “Are --- You --- Ok?”

“I can do this,” I say, wondering if I’m trying to convince them, or me.

Alix opens his mouth to say something, but I shake my head, gathering my courage as I walk up to the mic at stage centre.

“Right,” Alix mutters, and I hear the metallic pitter-patter of his drum sticks against the cymbals behind me.

Micah’s bass reverberates with a mellow growl, and I lift my hand, glancing sideways at Ash and Pikachu.

Let’s do this thing.

*****

Music swirls around me like a cool ocean current.

All my fears, worries and tension are washed away on the rhythmic tide, and I sing like I’ve never sung before: open, wild, free.

The audience down below is spellbound, dancing, wolf-whistling and cheering between songs.

It’s the first and last time Wild Blue Yonder is playing before a live audience, and we rock.

We totally rock.

What a bittersweet thought.

The crowd is a blur of movement, but every now and again someone sticks out, and I recognize a familiar face.

Kitty and Jade are near the back, but they’re impossible to miss with his ridiculous green frog outfit. Zee and Jamie are standing with them, and I realise to my horror that Jamie’s right next to Jade, giving Kitty some serious side-eye.

Yay, more drama. The very last thing I need right now.

Kitty doesn’t seem to have noticed though, and she’s dancing with her phone up in the air, probably recording the performance so she can show the Fable boys later.

Grace isn’t anywhere to be seen.

Odd.

My mom and dad are near the front of the crowd, feet away from the stage, and in-between songs I can hear my dad yelling “that’s my girl!” which would usually embarrass me, but not right now.

When I sing like this, I’m swept up, away to some other place. Nothing can touch me.

Even the sight of the Three B’s – Beth, Becca, and Bailey, the bitchiest blonde bimbos in school (except for Bailey – she’s not so bad) doesn’t phase me. They’re in the crowd, to the left of the stage, glaring up at me. Beth is dressed up as Goldilocks, in one of those porno adult fancy dress costumes you can buy online with a stupid name like “Sexy Goldilocks XXXX”, her platinum hair braided and beribboned.

Becca and Bailey, being good slaves, are Beth’s accessories for the night.

They’re dressed as the bears from Goldilocks and the Three Bears, in unflattering furry brown costumes with giant cartoonish eyes, like Disney theme park mascots. Even though I can’t see their faces I know it’s them, because Beth never goes anyway without her entourage. It would be a tragedy for her to have to hold her own bag.

I haven’t seen them since the start of summer break, when Beth cross-examined me about why Felix had been at my house after Fable’s Portland show.

Earlier, in the moments before I started to sing, as I gazed down at the crowd, Beth was sniggering, smiling smugly up at me with an evil glint in her eye.

Her thoughts were written all over her face.

The ghost girl is going to embarrass herself in front of the whole school. Time for a freak show. C’mon, show us how much you suck.

Her smile disappeared as my song broke the silence, and the familiar hushed sigh, the gasps of wonder trickled through the crowd – and she went from looking shell-shocked, to irritated, to furious.

By the time we reach our fifth and final song, and I take an awkward bow, the crowd is yelling “encore”.

I look back at the boys, and Micah nods, whispering “Winter in Portland”, while Alix mouths “Lumino. Let’s --- Play --- Lumino.”

“Winter in Portland,” Micah whispers.

“L-U-M-I-N-O”, Alix mouths.

Winter in Portland is a slow, mellow song, while Lumino is more upbeat. Plus it’s cute, playful – countryish and fun, like early Taylor Swift.

I don’t want to end the show on a downer.

Lumino it is.

I strum the first few chords of Lumino, hearing Alix hiss “YAAASSS!!!” behind me as Micah shakes his head.

“This is Lumino,” I speak into the mic, addressing the audience directly for the first time.

I feel like I should say more, but before I can open my mouth again, a shrill voice cuts through the silence.

“WOOOH!!! WOOHOOO!!!” My mom screams at the top of her lungs, painfully loud. “THAT’S MY BABY GIRL!!! I MADE THAT!!! WOOOOOH!”

“Um… ok… I guess this is goodbye,” I say, trying to ignore my mom’s cheering. “Thanks for your support tonight.”

The crowd cheers, and we launch into our final song.

Goodbye baby, this clock’s a tickin’

I guess time’s up, it’s time to go

It’s been real, but I can’t stop thinkin’

This whole thing’s goin’ too damn slow.

Silver tongue and-

As the word “silver” falls from my lips, I spot a sudden flash of silver in the crowd, near the back. It blinds me for just a moment, but I recover instantly, continuing to sing without missing a beat.

It takes me a moment to make out the tall, dark figure, moonlight gleaming off his silver mask.

He’s too far away for me to make out much else, but I can see he’s wearing some kind of cape, black as night, and his hair is dark and tousled. A very pretty girl with long, elegantly curled chestnut brown hair seems to be his date. She’s also wearing a mask – glittery pink from the looks of it, though she’s too far away to tell – which perfectly matches her bubblegum pink dress, a riot of sequins and bows and shimmery lace. She keeps on trying to wrap her arms around him, and he keeps on pushing her away.

A black-masked boy dressed as a pirate passes her what looks like an actual bottle of rum, from which she takes a rather large swig.

She’s probably trying to make herself feel better about her lame-ass boyfriend.

She takes another gulp, not even trying to hide the bottle.

Oh god. I hope Grace’s mom doesn’t see. I’m sure Grace said she’s chaperoning tonight…

The suspicious bottle passes along to another boy, tall and slightly tan, with dark blonde hair and an intricate gilded mask flashing golden beneath the warm glow of the fairy lights.

He’s wearing some sort of flowing white gown, draped like a toga and tied with a dark golden sash. On his back, two perfect, white-feathered angel wings seem to bristle, alabaster as new-fallen snow.

He takes a swig from the bottle, and tries to pass it along to a guy standing next to him, a knight in full silver armor, with a sword and everything.

The knight shakes his head, probably because he’d have to take off his helmet to actually get the bottle anywhere near his lips, or maybe because he doesn’t drink.

The girl in the pink dress is trying to dance with her dark-haired date, and he brushes her off again.

I feel sorry for her, but it’s her own fault for overlooking his not-so-great personality in favor of his looks.

Even from this far away, I can see that he’s a ten out of ten, God-level hotness, fine as hell. All of them are, actually.

And I’m not the only one to have noticed.

A crowd of girls is forming around them, eyeing them out, whispering and pointing.

A tall red-haired girl with flimsy fairy wings flits away from her giggling friends and sidles over to the pirate guy, swaying her hips in a seductive dance, but he ignores her and pounces on the girl in the pink dress, wrestling her to the ground in a fit of laughter while her boyfriend continues to stare straight at me.

They seem sort of… familiar.

The crowd of girls around the strange group grows thicker, until they disappear from sight.

Weird. But, this is Portland I guess.

I think about the strange group all the way until the end of the song, even while we wave and thank the audience, and the crowd claps and cheers, and the sound system switches back to the recorded playlist.

As the applause dies down, the crowd near the stage disperses, off to buy more food and drink, while others start dancing to Beyoncé on the impromptu dance floor under the strung up fairy lights.

“That was AMAZEBALLS!” Alix says, wrapping me up in a huge bear hug. Micah joins in, and the two of them almost squeeze the life out of me, until we’re all laughing so hard that we’re doubled over, our eyes wet with tears.

“This isn’t the end of Wild Blue Yonder, you know,” Micah says suddenly, his voice happy and sad at the same time. “Alix won’t be at Yale forever. And I’m sure I’ll get bored of Europe… eventually. We’ll pick it up again someday.”

“I hope so,” I say.

I sling my guitar over my back, looking around on stage for the case.

“It’s in my car,” Alix says, reading my mind. “Anyway, hand your guitar over. I promise I’ll take good care of it.”

“But, don’t you want me to help pack up?” I ask, casting my eye over the jumble of wires and amps and instruments.

“Nah,” Alix says. “Your friends are waiting. Go have fun.”

He points down into the crowd of dancers below, where Zee and Jamie are waving to me, calling me over. Grace still isn’t anywhere in sight, and Kitty and Jade seem to have quietly slipped away.

They’re probably making out in his car or something. Sigh.

“Get going,” Alix says as I hand over my guitar. “The night is young. Enjoy it. Dance. Be merry.”

“Speaking of dancing, save one for me, ok?” Micah says with a wink. “We’ll come find you after we get this stuff in the car.”

Alix mock punches him, a little too hard, and Micah yelps and play punches him back.

“Umm… ok,” I say, feeling suddenly shy but not entirely sure why. I mean, it’s just Alix and Micah. But suddenly I feel very, very self-aware. I hurriedly place my guitar in Alix’s hands and scramble down the steps, almost tripping over my long silver gown.

“See you,” I say without looking back.

I make a beeline for Zee and Jamie, who are doing their own crazy version of the foxtrot, twirling each other around to Crazy in Love.

The song ends, and they double over in laughter.

I’m only a few feet away from them, and about to call out when someone abruptly steps between us, blocking the way.

Dark hair. A hooded cloak of raven feathers, glistening moss green, midnight blue, royal purple. A finely-wrought silver mask studded with an intricate filigree of clear stones, possibly diamonds. They shine like moonlight made liquid: new-fallen dewdrops upon a spider web.

Despite the soft glow of the golden fairy lights overhead, his face is cast in shadows, and I can’t see his features behind the brilliant silver mask.

Without a word, he bows, then rises in one swift move and holds out his hand to me.

The message is clear.

Dance with me.

I glance over to where he was standing with his friends before, looking for the girl in the pink dress.

Surely she wouldn’t be thrilled to see her guy brazenly asking some random girl to dance?

But she’s clearly not miffed at all. In fact, she’s squealing with delight, bursting into a fit of giggles as she piggybacks on the knight, her skirt hitched up in a very risqué manner while he runs around in circles.

There’s something strange about that high-pitched laugh…

I look back to the boy, or perhaps man, in the silver mask.

My body moves of its own accord – my hand first, towards his, and then I step into his embrace, and he sweeps me up into a perfect waltz.

I don’t recall ever having learned it – in fact, I’m pretty sure I don’t know any proper dance steps – but somehow, my limbs move as if pulled by invisible strings, manipulated by some mysterious puppeteer.

We glide over the grass, under the twinkling fairy lights, his one hand holding my own, his other hand clasping my waist, his posture straight and poised as he leads me in the dance.

We weave between other swaying couples, and the world around me fades into a blur as we wheel through the air, through the night, through space and time, spinning round and round through the perpetual cadence.

Notes of the music around us drifts through the haze, and I dimly realize that the song we are dancing to is Déjà Vu by Fable.

I look up, straight into the eyes of my dance partner.

A wicked half-smile.

Hazel irises flecked with gold.

Felix.