Melody Llwellyn's Arc

Chapter 12 of 14

Melody took the folded shell from the head judge. The crowd still buzzed behind her. She had won. But the shell in her flipper held words she had not read, and until she read them, the cay was not hers to take. She turned the shell over. It opened along a hinge of dried kelp. Inside, someone had scratched thin rows of writing. Melody's flippers shook too hard to hold it steady. The parrot dropped from her shoulder and landed on the shell's edge. Its jewel-toned feathers caught the last light. "Want me to read?" it asked, sparkle in its eye. "I read fast. I talk faster." Melody nodded. The starfish scrambled up her shell to see. The pup pressed close, rainbow snout twitching. The salamander crept forward, orange eyes fixed on the writing. The parrot squinted at the marks. "First line. The keeper of the cay keeps the stage open. Any voice may sing. No one turned away." The starfish clapped four arms. "That's easy! You never wanted to turn anyone away." Melody's chest loosened a little. "Keep going," she said. "Second line." The parrot leaned closer. "The keeper hears every act before the crowd does. Even the quiet ones." Melody thought of herself at the water's edge, singing where no one listened. She swallowed. "I can do that," she said softly. "I know how it feels not to be heard." The salamander nudged a chip of sea glass toward the shell, its way of trading for a thing it liked. Melody smiled and let it keep the glass. "Last line?" she asked. The parrot went quiet. That was rare. "Last line," it said. "The keeper cannot compete. Once you hold the cay, you never sing for a prize again." The words landed hard. Melody had entered the contest to be heard. Winning meant she could never enter one again. The pup whined and pressed its head to her flipper. The starfish lowered its arms. "You don't have to take it," it said. "You could walk away and keep singing for yourself." Melody looked past her friends to the stage. She saw the empty spot where she had stood alone, no bell, no tricks. She had sung the true song at last, and the crowd had leaned in. She did not need another prize. She wanted others to have what she'd finally found. She closed the shell. "I'll never turn a voice away," she said. "I'll hear the quiet ones first." She lifted the shell over her head so the crowd could see. "I accept." The head judge lowered her claw one last time. "Then the cay is yours, keeper." The crowd roared. But Melody's mind had already jumped ahead. The stage was hers now. She had promised to run it. And she had no idea how.