Page 85 of The Music Demon

Lyric reached out to the water and it calmed so that it looked as still and glassy as an Austrian lake in winter. He then padded down the steps to the edge of the water. Shivaun remained on the stone landing above, waiting with eager anticipation to see what the demon had in his complicated and unpredictable mind.

Two dozen shadowy figures appeared on the water as blurry images just before they took shape as a herd of magnificent black swans.

Without monitoring her tone or dignity, Shivaun squealed with delight like a little girl and Lyric laughed quietly, thrilled to have pleased her with his gift.

A silver tray then appeared in his hand. It was stacked high with tiny yellow cakes the size of cheese cubes. He twisted his torso to smile up at her.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“Swan treats. You want to help?”

When he squatted at the water’s edge, the swans swam close and behaved like pets.

Not wanting to miss out on a minute of the fun, Shivaun hurried down the steps, raked half the treats into the pouch she’d improvised by gathering up her skirt, and began distributing.

The two demons quietly enjoyed handing out swan treats for some time.

“You like to feed things,” she said.

“Hmmm?”

“Cotton candy for dragons. Little orangey bits for swans. It gives you pleasure to please and nourish at the same time.”

He laughed. “Cotton candy isn’t really nourishment.”

“’Tis nourishment for the soul,” she argued. “More yours than the dragons’. It feeds the part of spirit that makes livin’ worthwhile.”

“A romantic and a poet, Shivaun. You’re a continual surprise. In the best way.”

“So what is it you find gratifyin’ in feedin’ things?”

After rolling that question over in his mind three times, he concluded that there could be a correlation to his divine purpose.

“When you talk about feeding in terms that transcend food, it could be said that music ‘feeds’. Some people need it as much as physical sustenance. It creates a stable chain of context for life. Imagine a celebration, of any kind, without music. Rites, like weddings, funerals, bar mitzvahs. Courtship.” He turned toward her and treated her to his sexy, lopsided smile. “Seduction.”

She shook her head. “No’ true. No music accompanied my seduction.”

“You’re so wrong. You provided the sound drop without even realizing it.” She looked blank. “The windchimes.”

“Oh.” She smiled. “’Tis a stretch.”

“Not at all. The chimes are the instrument. The wind is the musician.” She laughed silently. “What?”

“I think you’re much more poet and romantic than I, demon.” She turned back to the swans, who were becoming more demanding and beginning to fuss with each other. “Tell them to play nice.”

Lyric looked at the swans. “Play nice.”

The gorgeous creatures immediately broke away from the impending riot and, like a rehearsed ballet, glided into an organization of taking turns while practicing civilized social behavior that would serve as a fine model for humans.

She chuckled. “Seems so odd though. You have the soul,” she looked over at him pointedly, “andbodyof a lover. You speak like a poet. You are a romantic. You oversee the creation of thousands of songs about love and, yet, say you can’t love.”

Lyric thought back to the last conversation he’d had with Shivaun about the prospect of a bond formed by love. He remembered claiming that he could not, would not, love, but seemed to have forgotten why. Taking in the fantasy environment in which he stood, he marveled at the beatific perfection; and wondered if he’d ever attached feelings to such things before. Good Hades Horns. He might even have said he ‘loved’ what he was seeing.

“Whatislove?” he blurted.

After a surprisingly lengthy pause, “Funny thing is, before you asked me to define it, I was sure I knew. I guess the way I ‘know’ it isn’t in my head? But I’m stickin’ by what I told you before. One thing about real love? You have to care about what the other person wants and needs as much as you care about what you want and need.”

Returning to the joyful chore of treating swans, Lyric mulled that over and decided that, yes, Shivaun was probably the most glorious creature in all of creation. She’d given him a reason to look forward to the next time they’d spend together because in the course of his day those were the bullet points; the remarkable times of aliveness, maybe even bliss. And he’d give anything to have her as mate.

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