Episode 13 ~ The Dust Between Seconds

“Darling, it’s only enough Dust to cover you,” came the voice—vaguely accented, teasing at the back of her mind like a memory she couldn’t quite place. The wind blew softly around her as she stood there making her choice those words from before rattled in her head.

Calliope stood at the edge of the caravan. Roy Wellington had just said he didn’t have paperwork for them. Panic had already started unraveling them all, each trying to vanish in their own way. Her brain felt like it had short-circuited. But she had a contract. Folded in her backpack. She always traveled with papers.

With a steadying breath, she uncorked the glass vial. The Dust slipped over her skin in a shimmer, cloaking her in a soft distortion. She drifted forward in the haze, not quite invisible, but veiled. Her heart was ticking loudly, she felt the cool press of her amulet around her neck, which kept her feelings dull. The magic in the air swelled and moved differently.

Arnos and Gideon had scrambled beneath one of the larger wooden carriages. It wasn’t the safest hiding place—more desperate than clever. Kuresh had transformed himself into a crate of herbs using that strange, secretive magic of his. For a human, he was peculiarly gifted.

They moved on, hidden in plain sight.

Calliope’s heart thrummed wildly, the edges of her illusion trembling. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep it up. And still, the girl’s whisper echoed in her mind:

"Find her."

It had felt like wind, that voice. Like it wasn’t meant for ears, but bones.

Her thoughts spun like the hands of a broken clock. And then—something shifted. A breeze like a silent bell rang through the square. It felt like a spell breaking. Her veil unraveled. She was bare again, stripped of the invisible blanket she’d clung to. She stood exposed, now there was no hiding from those guards.

They were too close to the gates. Too slow. The soldiers’ boots beat nearer, and one by one, her companions were found. The game was up.

Calliope didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to be sentenced to some twisted elven punishment or locked away in nature’s cold embrace. She had plans. She wanted to hear the Top Forty Coast-to-Coast. The Lion King was coming out soon. There were still so many stupid, beautiful things she wanted to do.

And now—here they were. Caught. Cornered. Not a single good explanation between them.

“He said he messed up the paperwork!” Arnos blurted, his dwarven accent thick and defensive.

The soldier in the crested helmet didn’t budge. “He said you’d say that Roy said you would. We’re not sure who’s lying, but with no paperwork, you’ll be held until we figure out what to do.”

Calliope blinked. The Lion King. Orion. Why was she thinking of him again? He wanted her heart—and it had started to beat again. It ticked like a watch returning to life.

“I have a contract,” she said finally, brushing one of her voluminous honey-blonde locks behind her ear. From her travel pack—still faintly scented of Subway cookies—she pulled out the slightly crumpled parchment.

She handed it to the guard. The seal of the Magus Inquisitorials glinted in the lantern light—it was official.

He took it without a word.

They were led to a cell. No one confiscated their things, which felt like a small mercy. The cell was half-buried underground, with a narrow window that let in a slice of pale light. A guard sat at a desk just outside, leafing through a small booklet. They stood around awkwardly, tension still humming in the air.

Calliope leaned against the stone wall, arms crossed. She couldn’t rely on Orion for everything. But stars, how was she supposed to get herself out of this? She wasn’t even sure she could attempt that mythical thing people called flirting. She wasn’t Christina Applegate. Or Alicia Silverstone. She barely felt like herself at all.

Zeenthala. A city of college-aged elves who dressed too well, thought too fast, and flirted like it was magic class. Elves in general

She sighed.

Arnos, meanwhile, had made himself at home. He’d struck up a game of the Elvish version of blackjack with the guard—Tom, apparently. His accent thick as ever, Arnos tapped the table.

“Hit.”

He doubled down. Again. And again.

Calliope drifted closer, curious despite herself, as the game stretched on. Finally, with a flourish and a grin wide enough to split his beard, Arnos slammed down a winning hand.

Tom gave a low whistle. “Well, I’ll be.”

He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “You’re free to go, by the way. That contract was authentic. Since Roy’s not paying you, he’ll at least be footing the bill for your stay. There’s a decent inn across town.”

He called this an inn? Calliope scoffed inwardly. This was luxury. At least, she thought she still remembered what luxury felt like.

The lobby shimmered with polished wood and enchanted lighting. As they approached the front desk, a smooth-voiced attendant scanned their palms—standard for magical billing protocols—and, once it was confirmed Roy was footing the expense, they were each assigned rooms.

Separate floors. Naturally.

Calliope was given Room 777.

The stairs responded to her presence like sentient escalators, gliding upward the moment she stepped on them. She wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or mildly terrified.

When she reached her floor, the door recognized her before she even touched the handle. With a soft click, it opened, spilling warm light into the hall.

Her breath caught.

The room was... everything.

Rich velvets in sunset tones, a bed that looked like it could hold four of her, windows enchanted to show a slow-shifting view of a Zeenthala skyline at golden hour, and—was that a snack bar? With actual food?

She slipped inside and let the door close behind her.

It smelled faintly of citrus and lavender. The floor beneath her feet warmed as she walked across it.

The whole room exuded a quiet, tailored magic. Somehow, it matched her perfectly—like someone had peeked into her daydreams and woven them into the wallpaper and the lighting.

Eventually, Arnos, Gideon, and Kuresh made their way to her room, arms full of far too much food—extravagant dishes she couldn’t even name, let alone identify. Flavors she’d never tasted before, ingredients she couldn’t guess.

Arnos took charge of the remote and began scrolling through movie options. He landed on Universal Soldier—or so she thought. It turned out to be an adult Bollywood parody. The action star, clearly meant to be a stand-in for Jean-Claude Van Damme, was a heavily muscled Indian actor who left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

After a while, Gideon and Arnos left.

Kuresh stayed, lounging in an armchair with a thick book, seemingly oblivious to everything but the page.

Calliope curled into the enormous bed, heavy with exhaustion. The plush mattress welcomed her like a lover.

And then she heard it—Orion.

Not his voice, but the idea of him, tickling at the back of her mind like the echo of a familiar piano. She could almost see his white hair, lit like starlight, and the room he played in. The keys were slightly loud—music drifting through her thoughts, too close to be imagined and too vivid to be real.

She was so tired. Bone tired. Days on the road, nights sleeping in drafty subways. The itch of bugs she couldn't see. Her body ached from the memory of it all.

“Orion,” she murmured, her voice a soft velvet whisper in the dark.

“Can you play softer?”

The music paused. Just for a moment. As if he were truly there, carefully considering her request.

Then, gently, the piano resumed—quieter this time. Thoughtful. Almost tender.

She didn’t hear another word from him. Just the soft melody as she drifted off, lulled into deep sleep by invisible hands playing her into dreams.

Next Episode 14 ~ Kobolds and Chronomancy