//------------------------------// // Circle of Song // Story: Bloodsong // by Not_A_Hat //------------------------------// Muted voices and the susurration of rustling paper surrounded me. I worked with quiet assurance, deftly arranging my music and adjusting my cello. I didn't actually need the sheets, since I'd memorized this arrangement.   Which was good. Outwardly, I was collected and rock-steady, but I was struggling to maintain that illusion. My actions from less than an hour ago replayed in my mind, and I worked again to conceal my cringing.   I had begged Silver to surrender a bite. Just a drop. I winced internally at the memory of my pleading, manipulative tone. Just a nibble. I kicked myself mentally. Something red. I gritted my teeth, glad they were no longer pointed. His blood sizzled on my tongue, and I tried not to groan.   A twist of power burned blue-hot in my mind, but I ignored it, struggling to keep it suppressed. I looked up, fixing my gaze on the conductor. I tested the tension of my bow. I plucked my cello strings, listening to its clear, true tone. I rearranged my music.   I'm thirsty, you see— I stomped the memory hard, drawing in a deep breath and trying to shove it away.   But it crept back, swirling around. I tried submerging myself in the surroundings, all careful preparation and choreographed formality. The audience rose in tiers around us, swirling to focus a multitude of eyes at our group. The orchestra was dwarfed by vaulted ceilings and sweeping walls. Plush covered every surface that wasn't gilt or marble or heavy, ornate wood, money lavished on each detail in extravagant layers. I breathed in deep, smelling high-society and Canterlot elite. Some might have even come for the music.   The surrounding musicians were giving me curious glances, sensing restlessness in the twitch of my tail and the set of my ears, though I worked to suppress them. I calmed myself again, focusing on my breathing, but the memories swished back, threatening my calm. I remembered how good Silver had smelled, how my throat had hurt. The pulsing in his neck, a barely visible surge and flow, replayed itself in my mind, and I struggled to prevent my teeth stretching.   "Stop." The vehemence in his voice slammed through me again, and my ears sank a hair. I had asked him for trust. Two, three times? I'd pushed him to include me, to think of me as a friend… and then I'd done this. I hadn't attacked him — not quite — but saying I hadn't considered it would be a lie. And if I’d bitten him, we would both be in trouble.   I arranged my music again. I pulled a few near-silent notes from my instrument.   His life had smelled delicious. Warm and powerful and exotic. Mountain snow and hot chocolate. Ice-melt and warm bread. I struggled, but the memory of the drop he had given me returned, and the power burned in my head like a tiny beacon. I could feel his pegasus magic curling across my coat like the west wind. It was suppressing my vampire nature, yes, but it also wanted to be free. I was struggling to not grow wings right then and there.   I drew in a deep breath, suppressing a shudder. I poised myself, pulling my mind together as the conductor stepped up, a hush falling over the audience as their attention finally had a focus, wandering gazes crystallizing into watching eyes. I raised my bow, feeling the music fall into place, finally pushing the wayward thoughts from my brain as training took over. I surrendered to the flow, throwing myself deep into the performance, running for the solace of something unchanging and powerful.   The conductor lowered his baton.   And there was music.     Afterwards I packed up slowly, but left quickly. I exchanged short pleasantries with my friends in the section before quietly extricating myself. Chords, notes, and rests fizzled in my mind, drowning memory as I analyzed the performance. My playing had been middling, although I allowed myself an excuse, given the distraction… I paused to squelch the thought. I shouldered my instrument and turned to leave.   "Octavia!"   I suppressed a sigh and paused, looking back up the aisles between the sections. I managed a small smile when I saw who was calling.   "Lyra." I waved her towards me. "Come on, let's go."   "Right, just—" She stepped around a gregarious percussionist, dodged an enthusiastic trombone player, and weaved in and out of the crowd as she danced down the steps. "Just a moment." She smiled brightly as she reached me.   "Lucky." I glanced up at the huge, ornate harp she performed on, still standing proud at the top of the stage. "Mine's not small enough to carry easily, or large enough to need a team." I grinned, balancing my cello case as I headed for the door.   "Eh, it's got its downsides." Lyra fell into step, and we worked our way towards the back. "I can't fit that monstrosity into my apartment. You can play the same cello here and at home, and not travel for practice."   "True." I pursed my lips. We slipped through the back rooms, trotting mostly-empty halls before the general exodus began. "What about the performance, though?"   "Oh, we did okay." Lyra grinned. I nodded and fell into the minutia of playing classical music. As we walked, I tried not to worry that my fridge was empty and my magic was squirming. We reached the exit quickly, and found the night outside was cool.   "You hungry?" Lyra stepped out and turned to me. The back of the music hall, like the front, was sprinkled with gardens and wound with small paths. Night hung over the dark greenspace like a heavy mist, the few streetlamps hovering over the shrubs and gravel and grass like lost fireflies.   "I…" I stopped, considering. "I'm not sure, but—"   "Octy!" Both of us jumped as a yell sounded. We turned, finding a slightly-frazzled DJ galloping along the path, goggles pushed up on her head and a satchel slung at her side. "I finally found you!"   "Vinyl?" I twitched as she skidded to a stop, sprinkling me with crushed granite. "Please don't call me that."   "Yeah, yeah, whatever." Vinyl flipped her satchel open, fumbling and drawing out a rough ceramic bottle. "Took you long enough! It's good you left with Lyra, or I might have missed you completely. I've got what you need. How are you doing?"   "Oh." I flinched as memory avalanched through my brain, and I fought the impulse to curl up and whimper in shame and frustration. "Right." I drew a deep breath. "I, uh, Silver gave me a drop, and—" And the speck of heat, the power I'd kept bottled in the back of my brain, suddenly surged with my returned attention. I squeaked, bit my lip, and squirmed as heat writhed across my coat.   "Octavia, are you—"   "Is anypony watching?" I cut Lyra off brusquely, my tail twitching with repressed energy.   "What do you—"   "You're clear," Vinyl interjected.   I sighed, and finally, finally relaxed my hold on the power I'd borrowed. There was a dull poomf as wings burst from my sides, stretching, growing, reaching for the wind. My senses suddenly expanded, and I could feel the night air drifting past, measure its coolness and humidity. I shivered as unbound energy crackled through me, and it was all I could do to keep my hooves on the ground as Silver's sky filled my mind with wind and rain and deep, bright blue power.   "Holy hail that feels better." I sighed, drooping as hidden tension melted from my back and shoulders. "You have no idea how much I needed that."   "Yeah." Vinyl circled me slowly, inspecting my wings carefully. "And it looks like a good transformation. But can you change back?"   "I'm not sure." I nibbled my lip nervously. "It would be like squeezing into a dress two sizes too small. Even if I could, I wouldn't like it. I think if I had some earth pony magic, they might balance." I glanced at the bottle she had. "Is that…?"   "Pegasus." Vinyl frowned. "Sorry."   "Drat." I kicked the dirt, sagging a little more.   "But!" Vinyl grinned suddenly. "I need to visit my supplier, and I should take you along sooner rather than later. We could go now if you like?"   "Oh." That perked me up. It sounded interesting, and I'd been wondering about Vinyl's supplier. "But…" I glanced at Lyra. I didn't like ditching, and we had been leaving together.   "You can come too." Vinyl turned to her. "It won't be a problem, plus we should get some supper. We could jam after!"   "Jam?" I tasted the strange word.   "Improvise music." Lyra glanced back at the music hall. "It might be odd, right after performing, but I like working with Vinyl. It's fun."   "No, I think I get it." I felt the music swirling in my mind, with the memories and events of the day. "The more music I have, the more I want." I grinned. "And after today, I wouldn't mind a little more."   "Exactly." Lyra and Vinyl mirrored my grin. "So, we jam?"   "We jam." I nodded to them. "But first… supper."   "And a drink." Vinyl grinned wickedly.     "Vinyl?" I examined the street. "Where exactly is this supplier of yours?"   We had left the music hall casually enough, trotting easily off the university grounds and through the thin belt of satellite stores and apartments before plunging deep into downtown Canterlot. It was dark and the stars were coming out. The streets were quiet-ish on a weeknight, but some traffic trickled through.   The buildings around us now were more… ostentatious. Much of the city's administration happened at the palace, but everypony who wished they were official–lawyers, accountants, bankers, and the like–clustered in the narrow streets of the old downtown. Ponies had been pouring time and money into this part of the city for as long as the princess' had lived here. Maybe longer.   "The hospital." Vinyl gave me a bright grin in the streetlights. "Where else would I get blood?"   "No idea," I admitted easily. "Barber shops?"   "Blech." Vinyl pretended to retch. "Bleeding is barbaric. Nopony does that anymore, Octavia."   "Would you eat a leech?" Lyra interjected suddenly. "I mean, if it had bitten somepony, it might be like a crème-filled—"   "Ew!" Vinyl redoubled her gagging.   I tuned out their friendly bickering and hefted my cello higher, wishing I didn't have to carry it along. The strap rubbed against my new wings, and I didn't like how my new feathers were twisted and pulled.   I spread my wingtips, feeling magic flick across the feathers. For some reason, these wings felt more strongly attached, integral, than when I had drunk pegasus blood last time. The surrounding town suddenly sprang clear in my mind: the sharp edges of the buildings as the night wind licked around them; the eddies and swirls left behind by ponies pacing from one pool of light to another; the wind-shadows of streetlamps and benches that trapped litter and drifted dust devils across mostly empty streets. I blinked.   I could feel Vinyl and Lyra walking just ahead of me.   I could feel the walls on either side.   I could feel zephyrs and stray twists of air curling overhead through the night. I knew that if I spread my wings, I could flit from one to the next with a soft flap and flutter, slipping between the buildings like a thrown dart. These instincts called to me, and a soft rumble of thunder in the distance called softly.   "Octy?" Vinyl's voice cut through my reverie.   "Huh?" I jerked back and dropped a hoof’s length to the pavement, jarring my knees.   "You were floating." She gave me a bemused smile. "It didn't look safe."   "Sorry." I grinned sheepishly and folded my wings. "Silver's blood… I didn't have much of it, but it's been affecting me oddly, more strongly than I expected."   "Well, he is strong." Vinyl shrugged, but something shimmered behind her eyes as she smiled faintly. "But we're here." She waved grandly at a tall, blank wall with a small door, next to a dumpster. "I present Equestria General Care, Canterlot's second most prestigious hospital, where the very nearly best medical care is available at many times of day!" She swung the door wide, disappearing into a brightly lit corridor. Lyra and I shared a wry glance but followed easily enough.   "Vinyl?" I called, instinctively curling a breeze to carry my voice down the hall. She twitched and glanced back, grinning as she realized I was employing one of Silver's tricks. "Are you sure this is…" My voice trailed off as a non-descript pony, wearing a white coat and carrying a clipboard, came around a corner. He made a note, nodded once to each of us, and continued as if nothing was strange.   "Heh." Lyra shrugged. "Silly of me to worry, huh?"   "Ridiculous, apparently." I shrugged and we trotted after our fearless leader. "Vinyl, what's going on here?"   "Well! Lots of places in Canterlot are 'weird'." Vinyl adjusted the sunglasses on her head and led us deeper into the antiseptic, nondescript depths of the building. "Lots of ponies get hurt. They need treatment, right? They're not all as… resilient as we are. Or as normal as Minty Fresh here." She waved to Lyra.   "Hey!" Lyra sputtered. "I'm not even related to—"   "Yeah, yeah." Vinyl waved her quiet, stopping at a door labeled 'Lab 17'. "Anyways, Octy—"   "Don't call me that."   "—some doctors are willing to see an unusual specimen. A few are even willing to recommend medicine, give treatment, perform surgery, and attempt other adventures that might not end with somepony six feet underground or split into a dozen different specimen jars. Many of them work here and receive their clientele through the backdoor at all hours of the night. But we're not here for them." She knocked on the door, listened for a dispirited mumble, and swished casually through.   We followed slowly. Inside, charts and posters adorned blank white hospital walls. Beakers, flasks, pills, and powders strained metal rack shelving, while every flat surface was sprinkled with curly glass piping and tubes of varicolored liquids. Nameless paraphernalia and gadgets filled the desks and counters to bursting and overflowed onto the floor. It felt like a fever dream of "SCIENCE!", a madpony's lair or special effects set.   "Is this for real?" I gazed about in consternation, half-convinced nopony could actually work here. I reached for a nearby flask, wondering at the mauve gas filling the top half.   "Don’t! Touch!" A figure surfaced from the confusing mess, slipping past stacks of textbooks and shouldering Vinyl aside to arrest my hoof. "Not that! Or that either!" They whirled to where Lyra was holding a cork, her eyes wide in the very picture of innocence as something blue bubbled on the table.   "Mares, I'd like to introduce you to my most reluctant friend, Change-Of-Heart!" Vinyl waved to the figure, who sighed in relief as we stepped away from the counters and lowered our hooves. She was small, shorter than any of us, and a mild shade of blue with a mane just lighter than fuchsia. "Or, as I like to call her, Changey!" Vinyl pulled the small mare into a hug, ignoring her protests and struggling. "Come on, Changey! You know I love you!"   "Gah, get off!" The smaller mare seemed to literally shift, slipping out of Vinyl's grasp with an impossible writhe and wriggle. "Stoppit, Vinyl!" She backed away, picking up a nearby bottle and waving it threateningly. "I mean it! I'll pour, um—" she paused to read the label "—sodium bicarbonate on you! I mean it!"   "That'll get a rise out of her," Lyra deadpanned. I snorted, and Change-Of-Heart seemed to recall our presence. She froze mid-gesticulation, before calmly replacing the jar.   "Vinyl," she said softly, "who are these ponies?"   "Ah, yes!" Vinyl shook her head and resumed her introductions. "These are my good friends! Lyra Heartstrings, the luckiest pony alive, and Octavia Philarmonica, who may very well be a daywalker! Say hi, mares!"   "Vinyl?" I questioned, suddenly tense. "Is that okay?"   "Oh, don't worry about Changey." Vinyl smirked. "She won't go spreading your secret. If she did, somepony might find out that Change-Of-Heart, best lab tech at Equestria General, isn't quite what she seems." She grinned at the smaller mare.   "Hmph." Change-Of-Heart grumped and pouted, pursing her lips and adjusting her lab coat. "You meanie, Vinyl! You're not supposed to tell ponies!"   "Aw, come on, Changey. Lyra's cool, you know I've wanted to bring her over before. And Octy—"   "Please don't—"   "—would need to meet you sooner or later anyways." Vinyl put on her most winning smile, which was only a little smug, and patted Change-Of-Heart on the head. "Don't be like that."   "Blech." Change-Of-Heart spat. "Don't patronize me, Vinyl. It's disgusting."   "What's this about?" I finally slid my cello off my back and stood it by the door, carefully distant from a pair of nondescript metal cylinders.   "In case you haven't guessed yet, Changey is my supplier." Vinyl shrugged. "We have a symbiosis. She saves me expired blood from the hospital blood bank, which is still good to drink."   "And in return?" Lyra gave the lab tech a curious glance.   "Love!" Viny glomped onto the smaller pony again.   "Blech!" Change-Of-Heart shoved her away. "I keep telling you, stop!"   "You're a changeling?" I gave the tech a sharp glance.   "Oooh." Change-Of-Heart grinned. "This one's sharp, Vinyl. She's going to cut herself one day."   "May already have." Vinyl shrugged. "But aren't you going to deny it?"   "Why bother?" Change-Of-Heart waved the idea away. "After all, you planned to introduce us." There was a spiral of green fire, and her blue coat and pink mane burned away to reveal a black-shelled bug with crystalline green eyes, speckled with yellow. She buzzed lacey wings and lit her horn, shoving Vinyl back as the unicorn made another enthusiastic grab for her. "And for the last time, stop feeling like that at me!" She planted one hoof firmly in Vinyl's face and shoved. "You know I don't like it!"   "Fiiiiine." Vinyl heaved an aggrieved sigh. "But you're adorable, you know that?"   "I don't want to be adorable," Change-Of-Heart snarled, before turning to us with a charming smile. "Sorry for the bother, you two, but would you please reign your friend in?"   "Vinyl," I drawled, "you're being embarrassing."   "Fiiiine!" Vinyl threw her hooves in the air and sat down. "Anyways, Changey, you know why I'm here."   "Yes, yes." The bug turned away, wandering into the lab's depths. I heard glassware shifting, cabinets opening and closing. The… feel of this lab was different from Syzygy's. His was just as packed, but still had an air of organization. I’d gotten the feeling the Hunter could find whatever he needed without even looking, but that was distinctly missing here. This place was just… messy. I shook my head, pushing the thought away. Change-Of-Heart reappeared, carrying a small cardboard box which clinked glassily and gurgled liquidly. She placed it before Vinyl, but when the unicorn moved towards it, she pulled it away.   "Hey!" Vinyl pretended offense.   "Come on, you know how this works. I scratch your back, you scratch mine." The bug cocked her head, staring at the unicorn.   "Um." I stepped forwards. "Vinyl, what do you… trade?"   "Aw, don't worry about it, Oct—"   "—don't—"   "—avia, it's fine, I've got this." She drew herself up, and fixed Change-Of-Heart with a nasty glance. "This dumb roach is just being difficult."   "Hey, don't be so…" I paused as Change-Of-Heart smacked her lips.   "Not bad." She shrugged. "A little more vehemence, please."   "Filthy dung beetle?" Vinyl hazarded listlessly.   "Are you even trying?" the changeling retorted.   "I, uh, think you smell."   "Really!" Change-Of-Heart threw her hooves in the air. "It's really not that hard! Can't you at least try? For me, Vinyl?" She tipped her head cutely, and Vinyl groaned, making little grabby motions with one hoof.   "Um, excuse me?" I stepped forwards, now thoroughly confused. "What… What's going on here?"   "She's a deviation," Vinyl groaned. "A sport."   "Mutant," Change-Of-Heart agreed cheerfully. "Absolutely disgusting abomination, if you please." She grinned. "Please?"   "Um." I considered that for a moment. "You absolute abomination!" I tried to inject a touch of loathing.   "Ooo, that's a good one." Thin spirals of darker green crossed Change-Of-Heart's eyes. "Yes, that's the spirit."   "You don't feed on love?" I cocked my head. "That's why you're still in the city, even after all that…" I waved a hoof. "The other year? At the wedding?"   "Well, sort of." The bug drew herself up, taking on a lecturing tone. "As a matter of fact, I do feed on love. I just happen to have an… unusual idea of what love is." She smiled. "It's different for different ponies, you know. How it's expressed. Some like gifts, some like quality time, some like kind words. I happen to like—"   "Insults," Vinyl sighed. "It's all she'll take as payment. A heaping helping of disdain, topped off with a serving of abuse."   "You hurt her?" I asked, slightly horrified.   "No!" Vinyl recoiled at the idea.   "I wish," Change-Of-Heart sighed. "A few shoves would be nice. Maybe a light slap or two. Just a little pain is all I ask! Safe and sane, of course! It’s all in the expression, you see. Even if the emotion is there, kisses are just so bland. But this unicorn is convinced I'm 'adorable.'" She sighed. "It's not like I want much, is it?"   "Oh, I don't know. You seem awfully needy to me." I shrugged coldly. "As if something like you deserves that much attention." I sniffed and threw my nose in the air, giving Change-Of-Heart my best cold shoulder.   "Oooo." The changeling shivered and tiptoed closer, but I resolutely pushed her away. "I think I like this one, Vinyl." The DJ's lip wobbled at that.   Lyra sighed, and rubbed her forehead. I glanced at the box, reminding myself that I really did need the contents, and steeled myself, dredging through my mind for sneers, snubs, put-downs and jabs.   If this was the weirdest thing that happened all week, I might start getting bored.     "That… was strange." The door closed behind us. I looked back, the bottles jingling quietly in Vinyl's grasp as we walked into the street.   "This town is fascinating." Vinyl looked up at the sky. "No matter how deep you dive into the weirdness, it just keeps going deeper and deeper. You're only at the fringes, Octavia, but you're not staying there. Don't worry though. Ponies are the same, top to bottom, just as friendly and angry and hurting and joyful and alive, up and down the whole weird spectrum."   "Good to know." I adjusted my cello and spread my wings. I lifted off shakily, relying on half-imagined instincts to pull myself up by my feather-tips. "I'll meet you back at your apartment, okay? I'm going to get a little use out of these while I have them."   "You sure that's safe?" Lyra gave me a speculative glance.   "They're telling me it's fine." I pulled a few tight circles and spun to a stop, whirling precisely. "I've got these instincts… I dunno, I think since it's Silver's magic…"   "Could be." Vinyl shrugged. "Anyways, a crash won't kill you. Have fun!"   "Hey!" Lyra stopped me. "Pass me your cello. If you're going to be flitting about, get us some supper, alright?" She dug a few bits out of a purse and tossed them to me. I snagged them and tucked them away. "Head over to the Gallery and order takeout for three. They'll do you a box."   "Right." I let her take my instrument, swallowed a lump of nerves, and flapped once. I suppressed a giggle of delight as the night  air knotted and flicked me skywards.     I was still laughing with delight as I touched down on the landing before Vinyl's door. The stars seemed to laugh with me, twinkling where they shone through the glow from the ground. I knocked once and stepped in, hefting the savory-smelling carton at my side. Inside, it was an oasis of light and warmth.   Vinyl had her synths set up, and Lyra was plucking strings on an oddly skeletal harp of some sort. My cello was leaning by the door. The furniture had been herded to one side of the small room, and speakers and mixers were arrayed around the two in a sort of musical nest. I heard a few brief bars of music as they turned towards me, a few multicolored lights flashing in time, briefly casting them in an otherworldly hues.   "Octavia!" Lyra grinned. "You got the grub?"   "Yup." I lifted the box, and she levitated it carefully over the cords and blinking boards. Vinyl took it and vanished for plates.   "Stew?" She sniffed once.   "Cream of turnip and celery soup with rosemary." I shook my wings out, losing a few feathers. I shucked my horseshoes, reveling in my suddenly light hooves, and pranced over to the beat-up old couch that leaned below the window. I slumped down, practically melting. "And cabbage salad with noodles. There's also chocolate pound cake with vanilla ice-cream for dessert, so we'd better eat." I rolled over, enjoying the feeling of stillness for a long, quiet moment.   "Have a good flight?" Vinyl called from the kitchen.   "It was great." I remembered the feeling of the wind beneath my wings. "You should see the city at night! It spreads in this glittering carpet of textured light and shade, rolling with wisps of fog and sweeping cloud, and it just sings with energy and life!" The memory tickled my mind, and I hummed a few bars.   "Oh?" Lyra paused from her tuning, and plucked a few strings, echoing the phrase back at me. "It sounds that good, does it?"   "It's wonderful," I assured her, scrabbling to my hooves and stepping for my cello. I uncased it with practiced movements and leaned back on my wings to draw the bow over the strings. I laid a few notes in the air, hanging them to catch the city lights. They sparkled and hummed before me, clear gems of sound. Lyra swiveled an ear and her grin widened. She plucked her electric harp, twisting my song through the nest of wires and mixers Vinyl had set up. It surged back, filling the room with power, wind under my wings, a rush of freedom.   "Hey, don't start without me!" Vinyl came back, passing out plates and bowls. "Anyways, eat first." She passed me a mug. I smelled cinnamon, apples, vanilla, warm cedar, and long autumn days. It was familiar magic, and I was suddenly starving. I lay my bow down and returned to the couch.   We all tucked into our food with gusto, exchanging small talk and pleasantries. I heard Silver and Syzygy had analyzed much of what we stole from Auric, but didn't know how to act on it. I filed that away for later investigation. Lyra and I tossed our performance at the orchestra back and forth, trading tips and analysis as best we could. I told them how the run on Auric had gone. At the end though, Vinyl put her spoon down and fixed me with a stare.   "But," she said, "what happened after?"   "A-After?" I hesitated, a spoonful of soup halfway to my lips. "What…" My voice trailed off, as I tried to hide a cringe and think up an excuse.   "You know what I mean." Vinyl grinned. "Afterwards, when Silver lifted you home. What went down there, Octy? He came back and said you were all like 'just one drop, Silver,' and stuff."   "I, um, I don't…" I fumbled and mumbled, feeling my face flush, poise broken, not even able to raise my customary objection to the nickname. I couldn't very well lie to them, but giving them a full explanation was absolutely out of the question. What could I say? I had pushed him into a corner, pleaded with him to let me bite him, and very nearly attacked him like a wild animal?   "Ah, give her a break, Vinyl." Lyra waved her spoon. "You've been under the influence, and it's bothered you just as much."   "I could have hurt him!" I said, suddenly overwhelmed. "What if I had bitten him? Then we'd both be infected, and, and…" I trailed off, breathing unsteadily as I remembered how completely out-of-control I'd been. I resisted the urge to curl up and hide my face.   "You? Hurt him?" Vinyl laughed. I gave her a confused look, turning to Lyra who just shook her head slowly.   "Listen, Octavia, that's probably the last thing you need to be worried about." Lyra shrugged. "Silver's tough, even tougher than he lets on to his enemies."   "But if I bit him?" I tried to keep my voice level.   "He'd be fine." Vinyl waved a hoof dismissively. "He's been bitten by nightwalkers before. He had a bite when he brought you in. I don't think you could turn him if you tried."   "Oh." A great sigh of relief whooshed out of my chest, and a knot of worry untied itself in my throat. Was it really that simple? But I remembered how I'd acted, and my face flushed. "That... That helps a little."   "Ahahaha, I knew you liked him!" Vinyl sipped from a bottle, shaped suspiciously like a laboratory flask, as she pointed and leered. "Come on, admit it!"   "I…" I paused, all my excuses, equivocation, and misdirection brushed away as her words totally floored me. "I… like him?" I murmured. Suddenly, my actions, feelings, even my thoughts snapped and re-formed, framed by those three words to take on a whole new meaning. "But that can't be right." I shook my head, trying to dislodge the idea. "No, that can't be right. I can't do that."   "For such a smart gal, you're not very good at this, are you?" Vinyl huffed and dismissed my rambling. "What's the matter? Why hold back?"   "B-But! He's saved my life. I'm relying on him for protection, and information, and so, so much. How can I ask him for more?" I squeezed my eyes shut. "It's not fair to him, and it's not like—"   "Aw, cut that!" Vinyl touched her keyboard, silencing me with a great, thrilling note. "You're allowed to have feelings, and don't ever tell yourself otherwise. You don't have to act on them, sure, but pretending they're not there isn't any good. And you know what? You're not the one who gets to decide whether it's fair or not. If you care about him, you'd better give him the chance to care about you. If you hold back because of what you think is 'fair’, you’re not doing him a favor."   "Don't be so hard on her!" Lyra bopped Vinyl on the head and swept our dishes up in her magic. "She didn't even realize it. Let her think, and let's have some music!"   Vinyl nodded and plunked a few keys on her synth. I shook my head clear and stood, picking up my cello and drawing out a few notes.   "Play that thing from earlier," Vinyl called.   "You mean…" I considered. "The sound of the city lights?"   "Yeah!" The DJ grinned and spun something, conjuring the phrase Lyra had plucked from her machine, roaring it at me again. I heard the city unroll beneath me, and I drew my bow across the strings.   Lyra hurried back to settle by her instrument. The clock chimed, late, but I ignored it. Notes throbbed in the air, flowing from my bow, to Lyra's strings, to Vinyl's keyboard in a circle of sound. We lifted each other higher, grasping at greater and greater heights until we soared on wings of sound, supported on silver strings and ivory keys. Outside, the city slipped into slumber, but in here there were friends, and good food, and…   Maybe I did like him, after all.   And there was music.