Chapter 40: 39 – Trace

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The acoustics of the great hall, or at least from a position centred on the upper half of the stairs above the landing, were spectacular. Trace wondered whether Richard knew that.

It had been an accidental discovery, after all.

Ophelia’s most recent potion had changed him into a rather petite girl with rainbow-coloured wings for arms; at least she’d warned him to take his t-shirt off as soon as he’d swallowed it. Cosmo had helpfully found him a simple white dress with sleeves wide enough to accommodate that change, though they might not have been before Cosmo’s adjustments.

The wings were strange. Being relatively small felt strange. Long hair, actual if small breasts, and a wider pelvis with a lower centre of gravity felt strange.

But having a crystal-clear soprano voice, that felt different but sounded hypnotically beautiful. He’d been singing to himself while wandering, and had stumbled into this perfect position.

“Trace?” Neon said gently, the next time Trace paused. “You have no idea how much I hate to interrupt. I think the whole house has come to a halt to listen, because man, does that carry from here and it’s gorgeous. But I really need to drag you down to the great hall.”

Trace felt everything inside tie itself instantly into knots. “It’s sunrise?” He slid his hand—he did still have hands, midway along those mad great wings—into her offered one and descended the stairs with her.

“Pretty close to it. Everything is going to be fine, I’m sure of it. I’ve been sort of keeping an eye on you all night, it’s who and what I am, I always do, and believe me, you’ve got absolutely nothing to worry about.”

“Who and what you are is babysitting guests?”

She smiled. “Not babysitting, just... sympathizing and supporting. I can feel what everyone in the house feels, and thanks to Fifi and Thalia—sort of, but not exactly—I can be what anyone needs. But it’s all me anyway. Did you think there was one regular human being living here among the monsters?”

“It seemed odd,” Trace admitted. “Even a regular human with a shoulder octopus.”

She chuckled and gave Banana a tickle with one finger of her free hand. “I just got lucky with him. He came back from a book in the library with me after I lost a bet with Wanda.”

Trace was certain that the entire household was in the great hall.

Neon stayed next to Trace, though most were sitting down except Ségolène herself, with a black-and-white cat, the kind he’d heard called cow-cats, at her feet. Behind her to one side was a set of shiny armour with a lot of complicated gold and copper and silver decoration on it, not moving, the metal face expressionless which would be a given anywhere else but not here. Was it a person? He hadn’t met them, if so. But it would be a weird place for a decoration and he hadn’t seen it there earlier.

“I think this will be very brief,” Ségolène said with a smile. “Richard, you have made your feelings on this very clear already, as have you, Dora, and I believe you agree, Neon?”

“That Trace is happy here and fits in very well and has no life to speak of outside of here?” Neon said. “And here where it’s safe and supportive he could really explore who he is and where that musical talent can take him? Yes, absolutely.”

Ségolène nodded. “Does anyone have any objections? Anything you have seen suggesting that it would be a bad fit in any way or on any level for Trace or for the household? You know that is important.”

Not a word, but he saw a lot of smiles and several people wriggling in their seats in what might be excitement or impatience.

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“Trace. Unless you request it, you will not forget tonight. You are free to leave if you wish. There are, however, at least two members of this household who are very much hoping you will choose to stay here with us, and the rest of the household is quite willing to accept you. You do need to understand that there is one price, which is not always a price to everyone. This house straddles two worlds and that is not healthy for humans. Everyone who stays changes in some way that cannot be predicted but has always been well-suited and as often as not feels like completion.”

“It’s worth it,” Trace said with no hesitation, while several heads nodded vigorous agreement. “I’d like to stay please.”

“You can take time to think—a little, at least. Or ask questions.”

“I don’t need to. It’s a really easy decision. I know the part that matters.”

“Told you, my love,” Richard murmured, but he was smiling.

Ségolène spread her hands. “Maggie?”

The cat yawned and paced towards Trace. Neon gave his hand a final squeeze and backed a few steps away, so the cat had space to walk circles around him. Three circles, in fact.

The bird-girl change reversed with dizzying speed, though not his clothes.

He recognized the sensations that followed: the wanting to stretch but not being able to, the stiff numbness that wasn’t actually either of those things. He looked down at his hands.

The colour had shifted to more of a rich golden oak than before, with stronger ring-markings, but it still looked... normal. Right.

The white dress that now fit very poorly, not so much.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

Ségolène smiled. “Sunrise no longer matters to you, dear. Cosmo, could you...?”

“Absolutely,” Cosmo said enthusiastically. “So much I can do on that lovely colouring!”

The cat changed to the cat-girl in the maid outfit with no transition between. “From what I can sense,” she said, “it’s a more complex change than it looks like on the surface. Once you sort out clothes and such, I suggest you visit the music room. There’s some connection there with the harp.”

“I’ll do that,” Trace said.

Dora bounced to her feet and wrapped both arms around him in an unexpected but very pleasant hug. “Now we have plenty of time for music.”

“Somewhere you can be appreciated,” Neon said in satisfaction. “And have a family again.”

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