Young Writers Society

“You look beautiful, Nightingale,” Peregrine says gallantly, offering his arm. A uneasy smile curls his lips.

“Thank you,” I reply, my tone cool as ice. My eyes stare at him in silent reproach. They beg wordlessly for some sort of explanation. None comes, but my parents do. They appear in the doorway behind, bundled in heavy cloaks against the cold. I take his arm.

Beneath the heavy material, his arm meets my touch. Hard, steady, promising some sort of escape. I sigh, relief touching my soul as my hand touches him. If he is here… he has a reason. Something that can help me. I hope.

“It is nice to see you, Peregrine,” Dad says, extending his hand. Hawk takes it, meeting his gaze quietly. Mom smiles at him, white hood covering golden curls.

“Thank you, Sir.” His eyes move between them, judging the charming smile on Mom’s face, the silent survey passing through Dad’s eyes. Something flashes across his features. He can see now. What they think.

“Well,” I flash a beautiful smile at them, pulling charm out from the depths of my being, “Shall we go? The dancing has already started. For once,” I glance up at Hawk’s stiff face, “I have a decent partner.”

Mom takes Dad’s arm. I hang on Peregrines, turning my body into a dead weight that pulls him back. My parents pull ahead. We fall behind.

When they are far enough away, I speak. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Your dad can’t catch you. I can.”

“Oh.” The response is weak, but the best I have. Silence falls. I let it come, glad for its protection against the boy at my side. Talking to him further… useless and more than slightly awkward. He helped me.

The village passes around us. Houses all built exactly like the one behind them. Red bricks, three rooms and a loft. A door that leads into the kitchen, a door that leads into the main greeting area. Every house the same. Built before our arrival.

We pull still farther back as the meeting house draws nearer. The sound of the fiddle whistles through the cool night air. But over that sound, I can hear something else. It is sweeter than the swift jig pouring from the fire-lit building.

I grip Peregrine’s arm tighter, desperately grasping my sanity.

The moon shines down on the world below. It’s icy rays play across my black clad form. My hand go to my hood, moving without permission. Madness stirs within. The woods calls to me, her voice rising beneath the dark branches.

Everything fades away. Houses leave me, melting into the darkness. And she sings still. Words… there are words in her clear call. I can’t make them out.

My hand releases Peregrine’s cloak… his slaps down on mine. “No!”

Snaking his arm round my shoulders, he clutches me closer. I struggle. “Let me go, Hawk! She’s calling…”

I try to leave again, fighting to leave his side. He holds me still closer and evades my wild strikes. “Don’t listen to her, Nightingale!”

Another clear note rises under the moon. My body strains towards it. Wrenching my hand free, I slap him across the face. He ignore it, reclaiming my hand and holding me tightly.

“Nightingale!” His blue eyes plead with me. “Stop this! Look at me. Remember me. Nightingale!”

Something inside remembers the face, recognizes the words that it speaks to me. It reaches out. A calm falls over my heart. For a moment, her words fade.

“Break free, and follow me.”

The voice echoes. The one I know. Heard for the first time with my ears and not just my mind. And I understand it, desire flowing over me. Nightingale is cast into the wind, her memories and loves beyond all thought.

Strength fills my limbs, wrenching them free from his protective grasp. Throwing my cloak off, I release myself into the night. Speed catches me, lifting me into the night wind.

“Let all be forgotten, love no more. Break free. Soar upon the breeze, a songbird of the night. Follow me.”

“Help!” Peregrine’s voice rings through the lawn. Footsteps come closer and closer, other shouts of alarm echoing from beyond him.

They die away, my focus and attention fixed on the treeline.

Beneath the heavy branches, smiling in welcome, she waits for me. Hands extend, dark eyes reaching out and pulling me closer. “Come, my songbird. Nightingale. Sing with me.”

The moon’s glimmering rays cloak her in silver, dark hair flowing down her back in a fountain of ink. Tiny feet touch the dead leaves that lie strewn across the forest floor. “Mingle with the dead.”

She draws near, my flying feet pulling us closer together. She steps forward, reaching for me. A alluring smile beams towards me, welcoming me to her. And she speaks. Not singing, but real words.

“Just a few more steps, Nightingale.” It whispers through the air, riding the gentle night air. Cool, flowing across the short distance between us. The seductive nature of the night and the beauty of stars rolls together about me.

Tears runs down my face as the enticing beauty of her voice twists my heart. My feet start to take the last step, the one that will bring us together.

Something snatches me back, wrapping around my waist.

“No!” I reach out for her, straining my body against the force that holds us apart.

It hurls me to the ground. My small frame hits the damp grass and lies there stunned. Blue flashes over me, worry and fear staring down through the boy’s eyes.

“Don’t give up now, Nightingale,” her voice flows over me, soft and sweet. It tempts, urging me to come near once more. “Come closer.”

Rolling over, I force myself onto my hands in knees. Eyes go to her, to the sweet form that waits for me. Crawling, I force myself to approach. Hands land on my shoulder, holding me back.

“Leave her be!” I’m hurled back again, someone stepping between me and her gaze. Confusion evaporates, memory returns. I look up at the one that protects me.

His hands are clenched, tall form stepping between death and the hunted. The moon glimmers down on sandy hair. And if I could see his face, if he was facing me, I know what I would see. Blue eyes. Blue and without fear.

“Peregrine?”

He doesn’t turn towards me, his focus on the devouring creature before him.

“Do you think that you are capable of standing against me, Boy?” Her pure voice sneers, hatred filling and corrupting the alluring tones. “You leave. Give me back my prey.”

“You can’t have her!” his voice overpowers hers, driving it back. “This is not your domain, go back into the darkness where you belong!”

A low laugh echoes through the dark woods. She steps into my view, pacing the edge of treeline. Black satin curls about her form, swishing against her ankles. “Do you think that you have the power needed to exorcise me? None do.”

“I don’t think anything of the sort,” He growls, stepping to the side to shield me from her gaze. “I know I have it. Go!”

She cocks her head to the side and surveys his youthful form with amusement. “No. I will not go. You have something that belongs to me. Give it back.”

His body tenses, ready for danger. Behind us, I can hear people draw near. I roll over and glance back.

They watch from a distance, too afraid of the dark one to come near. My eyes, always better in darkness than in the light, pick out my parent’s forms from the front of the small crowd. They also hang back. Frozen in fear. Only Peregrine has approached. And now he protects me.

A wave of shame runs through me. He stands… but I lie on the ground in terror.

Forcing some sort of strength into my legs, I climb to my feet. I was flying when she called, but now I can barely make myself move forward. Two, three steps. I am directly behind him.

My hand reaches out, touching his gently. “Peregrine?”

It opens, welcoming me. I slip it into his strong grasp and it close upon me. My eyes go to her, meeting her midnight gaze.

The dark stares back at me, calling once more. Longing rises in my heart, longing for the night and for the song. Vision blurs, everything fading up the eyes now locked on mine. A smile covers her ivory face, altering the features so alike to mine. Slowly, she looks back at Peregrine. The pressure eases off my soul, letting me breath.

“You can’t have her!” He snarls. His arm snakes around me, resting on my shoulder. “Get lost.”

“You don’t understand,” She murmurs, her low soft sweet and dangerous. Her dark gaze wanders back to me, and strokes my face gently. “She already is mine. I can do as I wish with her. She surrendered her soul long ago.”

She looks back up at him, a mocking smile shimmering in the silvery light from above. “Unless you would like to claim her, of course. Feel like being her prince, the knight in shining armor?”

I glance at his face in time to catch the flush that stains his features. A touch of dread sinks through my skin, wrapping around my heart. Don’t do it. Please. Don’t buy it.

“That is between me and her,” He says, carefully pronouncing the words and flinging them in her face. “Go back where you belong. Walk among the dead. Leave the living out of it!”

She laughs. The soft sound ripples through air. Her knife is bared, pointed at our hearts. I can feel it coming, can hear it in every word she speaks. “One of us must claim her. Either me or you. Will you? Or should I take what is rightfully mine?”

“Peregrine.” Reaching up, I tug on his sleeve. “Can we go now? Please.”

Her gaze switches back to me. I shrink back, fighting against the impulse to see. And her taunting smile surrounds me. Power flows from the dark globes in her face, edging me in, leaving no escape.

Shutting my eyes, I grit my teeth. If I can just keep it together a little bit long everything will be fine.

“Nightingale?” His grip tightens on my shoulder, worry tainting his clear voice.

“Get me out of here.” The words are whispered, but pain overflows into them. “Peregrine, please. I can’t…. I can’t hold on.”

“Walk backwards,” He murmurs. My head jerks in reply. Yes, I can do that. But she is still looking at me. He steps back, pulling gently on my arms. I move with him. Blind in the darkness of my haunted mind, I entrust myself entirely to him.

Open your eyes, Nightingale. Look at me.

My eyelids twitch in response. Longing creeps over my heart at the memory of her midnight gaze. After all, what harm can it do? I’ll never see her again. And they were beautiful.

Nightingale, once more. Only once. Look at me.

They open, answering her silent command. And I am staring directly into the darkness of her soul. She smiles.

Come, Songbird. Her hand extends towards me, red lips smiling sweetly. The black form hovers at the edge of night, silently commanding me to join her. He holds you back. Come to me.

Hate blossoms in my chest. Peregrine’s hand still holds my shoulder. Holding me back from the future. My entire body tenses, feet freezing.

Her smile grows, warm approval flowing through her mysterious gaze. I stare back, dumbfounded by the many colors I can see. Black skims the top, but beneath there are so many more shades of darkness. The deep blue of the sky, the ripples on the water… night incarnate. And she calls to me.

One more command. Only a few words, but spoken with the power that only she can wield. Fight to reach me. Come and sing.

Twisting, I grab his hand. Startled blue flashes past me, but they don’t hold the power needed to make me stop. I sink my teeth into the soft flesh.

He screams and shoves me away. I stumble back, almost falling. But I don’t. The taste of blood fills my mouth, dripping down my chin. The redness stains my hands also. His blood.

“Come to me.” Three words, but the world shakes with the power inside them. Their call flows over the glen, rippling over the watchers to sink into me. “Come to me.”

Twirling, I cast myself, body and soul, after the beckoning form. Her arms are out, smile growing in triumph. She’s won. The thought runs through me like wine, and quickens my footsteps.

I’m close, a step away. Her hand reaches for me. I stretch my white palm out to her. The black cloak about her opens slightly, revealing the lean form clad in night beneath. The Songbird of Shanndrae woods.

Something grabs me from behind. Sky blue covers my eyes and cuts off the vision of her face. I reach out, hoping to find her somehow.

Ice brushes my skin, skimming across my white fingertips. And then she is gone. My hands go to my face. Soft fabric meets my searching touch. Peregrine wore blue.

Cold creeps through my limbs. Darkness seeps through my mind, clouding thought and banishing emotion. “Is this the end?” the word ripple between my lips and break free somehow.

“No, Nightingale.” It isn’t her voice that replies. Younger, deeper, calming my fire instead of feeding the blaze. “Not yet.”

He scoops my body up, holding the limp form gently in his arms. Everything leaves me. Everything.

Strength and thought flow into the wind. My body relaxes into his grasp. Entrusting my soul to him, I let go. Darkness flows over my mind; it blocks out the world around me. And she is silent.