The Belly of the Beast

Ch. 59, Starlight Itself

A hush fell over the room as she walked across the stage.

Xyla was alive. Xyla was here.

She was beautiful in a shimmering midnight blue dress, her hair starlight itself. Xyla! Xyla, I'm here! Everything inside me screamed to run to her. I half stood, and then suddenly felt Iker's eyes. I sank back into my chair. My heart tried to beat out of my chest, but I forced my face into a mask of disinterest. The announcer had called her Lyla. Which meant however she was here, she was buried in secrets as well.

My throat burned, as I kept my seat, watching her every movement, drinking it in, willing her to look at me. Iker said he collects people... how did he collect Xyla? The watchful stares of an entire crowd held me in place as my heart pounded out: Xyla, Xyla, I've missed you.

Xyla crossed the stage, and smiled at the announcer. The lights dimmed, a single spotlight centered on her. She stood head bowed, arms at her side. Her hair gleamed as it never had in the Belly, and a strange emotion shifted in my stomach— a sort of pride, but also something else, something I couldn't name.

She began to sing a slow, haunting song and if the crowd had been captivated by her beauty, now it was as if a spell had been cast and the world lived and died by her voice alone. I recognized the tune. Some of the other engineers' sang it, a song about a man who'd lost his love to the Belly, and no matter what he did, he couldn't bring her back. Too soon her voice drifted away, and applause scattered throughout the room. Xyla smiled at the crowd, gave a slight bow, and then walked off stage.

Straight towards our table.

I felt myself rise, saw her walk towards me, and then felt her arms wrap around me. She pulled back far too soon.
"Z, thank you so much for joining us! It is so wonderful to meet you!"

No one else would have seen it, that brief flicker of a warning in her eyes. But I did. Xyla and I had played this game a thousand times. Hell, we'd practically invented it.

So I buried every bursting emotion and gave her a graceful, beaming smile, then sat like I was a lady and not some trussed up belly rat. "You sing so beautifully. Lyla, was it?"

"Yes, Lyla. You're too kind."

Iker cleared his throat and Xyla giggled, taking the chair next to him and draping her hand over his. My smile became a bit more fixed.

"And I'm assuming you've met Iker?" She turned to Iker, giving him a playful shove on the shoulder. "Please don't tell me you gave her the 'collection' speech?"

Iker's cheeks went pink, and I could tell from the way he looked at her that Xyla had him the same way she'd once had Wesson: totally and completely. "Well, now darling, I thought you would understand—"

"I do understand. Which is why you need to let me speak to her alone. Woman to woman."

His eyes pinched, his voice dipping to a whine. "I only paid for an hour and it cost me a pretty penny."

She bent forward, giving him a clear view down her dress. "And you'll make it all back this next Trial when I win with her. Now please, can't I take her to the back? There's so much smoke and testosterone out here the poor thing is prolly scared stiff!"

I tried to look like a poor scared thing, not really my specialty, but it didn't matter. Xyla's lips were pouted, her body pressed into his— and even if he didn't know, I did. He'd already lost.

He sighed. "Fine. But you know what I want."

"Of course I do." She planted a kiss on his lips, next to his prickly looking mustache, and then rose. Her hand took mine and suddenly nothing else mattered. It was like I'd dipped into some daydream, like I'd left my body in the chair and now Xyla was pulling along my soaring spirit.