Melody Llwellyn's Arc

Chapter 8 of 14

The cheers were still ringing when the organizer stood up. His whistle hung from his neck. He raised one claw, and the crowd went quiet. Melody's heart dropped. She knew that look. He had used it against her before. "That was no song," the organizer said. His voice carried over the sand. "She stopped in the middle. Half a note is not a performance. It is a mistake dressed up as an ending." He turned to the judges. "If we score a broken song, we score anything. I say her turn does not count." The crowd murmured. Melody's throat went tight. If she said nothing, he would strike her off. She had built the whole song to stop where it stopped. But how could she prove that? A stop looked the same whether you planned it or lost your nerve. Her friends waited at the edge of the stage. The parrot ruffled his jewel feathers and gave one short nod. The starfish lifted an arm. The salamander pressed a bit of green sea glass into her claw and closed his orange eyes, going still. He was showing her again. Sing. Then nothing. On purpose. Melody held the sea glass and stepped forward. Her legs shook, but her voice did not. "I can prove it," she said. "Let me do it again." The organizer's whistle rose halfway to his mouth. "Do what?" "Stop in the same place. The exact same note." Melody turned to the crowd. "If it were a mistake, I could not land it twice." The judges leaned together, then one waved her on. The organizer's claw dropped. Melody breathed in. She started plain and small, the way she always did. She climbed the same slope of notes. She reached the high thread of sound and stretched it thin. The crowd stilled. She held it. Then she cut it off in the very same place, on the very same breath. Silence. The same aching gap. The crowd leaned in and did not breathe. Then they broke again, louder than before. They had watched her aim at the empty space and hit it dead center. The organizer lowered his head. He looked at the judges, then at Melody. "Twice," he said. His voice had lost its edge. "No one lands a mistake twice." He stepped back and let his claw fall. "Her turn counts." Melody's chest went loose with relief. She had saved her place. But the judges were already bent over their table, comparing her card to the huge-voiced winner's. Two scores sat close. The starfish scrambled up beside her. "They can't split you," the starfish whispered. "Not by a hair." The head judge stood. "We have a tie," she said. "Both will sing once more. Winner takes the cay." Melody looked at the winner across the stage. She had proven her stop was real. Now she had to beat him with one last song.