I ran a hand through my hair. It was getting long, and the air was getting chilly, and there was something wrong between me and Russ, only I didn’t know what it was or how to fix it, and Annie had turned the world upside down, and I didn’t know how to turn it right side up again or if I even should or wanted to. I just needed time to stop long enough for me to think. Long enough for me to make sense of things before they continued spiraling so miserably out of control.
Tristan lowered himself to the ground on the edge of the flowerbed across from the graves. It was odd how much he looked like one of the stone fairies so many people here kept in their front gardens as he steepled his long fingers and looked through them. “When I was a young child, my mother took me to a fortune-teller.” He drew his fingers down and held them in his lap. “I can still see the blue caftan the fortune-teller was wearing. She told me I would travel great distances and would leave a very long legacy. I think she had a sense of humor, don’t you?”
My chest tightened just like it had after my parents’ funeral when Harriet told me and Laura she was going to accept guardianship of us. There were too many emotions fighting for any single one to get my full attention.
“That part didn’t surprise me. I mean, obviously. I’d already had a piece performed by three major symphonies.”
“Of course, you had,” I said, only half joking.
“Then she told me I was going to change lives. When everything happened, I thought about her. It seemed as though I hadn’t been able to change any lives for the better. Not my father’s, certainly. And I don’t know if my brothers cared or remembered me. Maybe a couple of musicians did.”
I turned toward Tristan, putting my back to the graves. I couldn’t look at them anymore.
“I’d like to think I’ve helped Annie,” Tristan said. “And…”
I knew I was supposed to fill in the missing words. The problem was, to do that meant I had to accept that Tristan was, in fact, going away. For good this time.
I took a deep breath. “You saved my life. I know I’ve been a jerk to you,” I said, hoping the admission would make me feel like less of one. It didn’t work. “I actually liked hanging out with you when I was a kid. You know that, right?”
“It’s okay, Daniel. You don’t owe me an apology. You forget that I grew up with younger brothers. This is what happens in families. You sometimes spar even while you hold one another’s hearts.”
Tristan looked at me through his long lashes. Normally, I would have fired back some snarky, defensive comment, but for once, I didn’t want to.
* * *
We all sat in the music room, even though Annie, Russ, and I were the only ones who could see Tristan. Harriet and Laura were able to listen to the music he was playing on the piano, though. I couldn’t imagine how weird it was to see the keys moving on their own.
Tristan’s face was tight with concentration as he fought to stay solid. Annie and I were both snuffling back tears.
I took Annie’s hand and squeezed. She squeezed back. On my other side, Russ stared somberly at the base of the piano, his black clothing appropriate for once.
Annie had been playing the Prelude so often, I’d almost memorized the various new sections, but watching and hearing Tristan play them was unlike anything I’d ever experienced.
As Tristan hit the midpoint of the piece, his hands slowed, stilled, and then stopped. He rubbed his fingers. Pain shot across his face. Then he struggled to smile and said, “Thank you, Daniel. It was nice to do that one last time.”
I stood, quick enough that my head spun. “Don’t talk like that.”
Tristan shook his head.
I slapped at the piano. “How can you be okay with disappearing?”
Harriet came up behind me and squeezed my arm before walking out.
Laura stared at the piano bench. “I wish I could see you, Tristan. But thank you. That was beautiful.” Then she left too.
Then it was just the three of us. No, four. Or more like three-and-a-half.
Annie wiped her face on her sleeve and sat next to Tristan. They exchanged a look that I didn’t understand, almost as if they were having a conversation that didn’t include the rest of us.
“How does it go?” she asked.
What little color there was in Tristan’s face drained away. “No,” he whispered. “You can’t. I mean, I couldn’t ask you to…” He looked around as if he were seeking help. Russ scrambled up to the piano before I even saw him move.
“Wait,” I asked. “What’s happening?”
Russ had been quiet up to this point. Too quiet. But now he asked Tristan, “The terms of the curse. What were they again?”
Tristan turned and caught my eye before answering. “I’d never rest until I finished the Prelude,” he said slowly. “But it has to be completed on this piano. That’s the part I remember, anyhow.”
I moved to stand beside them. It was odd, this family that we’d become. Odd and fragile and it meant even more because we knew it wouldn’t last. Not for much longer anyhow.
“Can you do it, Annie?” Russ asked.
Annie hesitated, but I could see her eagerness. She looked at Tristan and when he nodded, she said, “I think so. Will this allow him to stay?”
A chill went up my spine. “Wait,” I shouted. “What is happening?”
Russ rubbed his wrist and paused long enough for the chill in my spine to turn into something hot and explosive. Then he said, “Annie is offering to help finish composing the Prelude on your piano in order to try to break the curse.”
It seemed like this plan was a hopeful thing, but no one looked hopeful. “Break the curse? So, what, then Tristan will be okay? And what about Annie? Is she at any risk?”
Russ was silent in a way that meant he was weighing his words. “I don’t know for sure. I can’t answer either of those things. Not without knowing the exact words Tristan’s father used and his intent. For instance, if his father actually used the word ‘rest,’ we’d have to know what that concept meant to him.”
“Then she’s not doing it.” I knew my words were offensive, and that I didn’t have the right to make any of Annie’s decisions, but there was no way I could stand by and watch as St. Hilaire destroyed her too.
“Well, of course,” Tristan started, just as Russ said, “It’s likely…”
“Stop,” Annie interjected. She looked around the room as if her words had even surprised herself. “Tristan,” she asked. “Are you willing to allow me the honor of finishing your Prelude?”