Seeking The Silent Song

There was a special sort of feeling that danced deep between Maisey’s ribs. When she was young, it was a rhythmic, passionate tango. Every step echoed through her body, swirling down to her gut, then up and around in time with the beating in her chest. 

With every passing year, the dance turned slow and refined, a waltz spinning elegant circles all the way up from her toes.

The older Maisey got, the slower the dance became, and the harder it was to hear the melody behind it. Now, the song had gone silent. 

Sometimes, she could almost catch a stray note. The sound fluttered at the edge of her consciousness like a butterfly flapping its wings against a wicked winter breeze. It was the taunt of afternoon sun peeking through rustling leaves, skating across gooseflesh-covered skin, never strong enough to share its warmth. 

Her fingertips brushed the soft edges of this feeling, and then it was gone.

Maisey wasn’t sure she remembered it right, either. Was the tango really that vibrant? Was the waltz truly so hypnotic?

The feeling she’d lost, it used to bloom on Christmas morning. It filled her on birthdays and vacations and Halloween nights. What was it, exactly? Joy didn’t seem big enough a word. Excitement? Delight? Where did it come from? Was there really some magic people lost as they aged? 

It was a bittersweet nostalgia, now, technicolor memories dyed sepia and frayed at the edges. 

She wanted to find it. She needed to find it. 

__

Rain had a way of lighting up her senses. Maybe it wasn't the rain, exactly, but the sweaters and tea and overall coziness that befell those moments where it came pattering across her roof’s time-worn shingles. 

Tonight, the rain was a backdrop for something else entirely. A circle of candles flicked warm light around the bare living room floor where she’d spent the last hour painting an intricate design. She found the book at an estate sale, its leather cover worn and its pages brittle. The symbol now forever splayed across her hardwood was on one of the last pages, printed under the heading: For Wishes Made True. 

Maisey didn’t believe in much. No god had ever answered her prayers, and no waft of incense made her feel any more connected to her inner whatever. Still, she’d unturned every other stone and had yet to taste that youthful bliss again. The worst part was that no one else seemed to understand why she wanted it so badly. Why didn’t they? Were they all really content in their gray monotony?

Maisey missed color. She missed the dance and the flutter in her chest. That’s why a plate of her blood sat at the center of the circle. It’s why the words flowed easily from her lips.

“Prodi, princeps desiderii. Votum meum exple.” Come forth, prince of desire. Grant me my wish. 

She expected nothing, and for a moment, nothing was what she got. Then, flames burst upward from the candles in columns of heat and light. Smoke pooled from the center of the circle. Maisey strained her eyes against the thick tendrils, but she managed to witness the moment he rose from the ground.  

He wasn’t like the demon sketched on the opposite page of the book. There were no horns, no hooves or red eyes. Wreathed by warm light stood a normal man. 

On second glance, he wasn’t exactly normal. Maisey had never seen anyone quite so alluring strolling down the cereal aisle. He was lithe and at least two heads taller than her. His dark skin was somewhere between umber and gold, and it shimmered in the glow of the candles. A long, immaculate braid of deep black hair cascaded over his shoulder. He wore a tight navy sweater and dark gray trousers, and as he stretched out, she caught the glint of several gold rings on his fingers. 

His eyes found hers. She expected to be frozen, but it seemed tonight was meant to defy expectation. Instead, she was drawn forward. This man, this demon, seemed to have his own gravitational pull, dragging her closer and closer until she breached the circle. 

Long, ring-clad fingers reached out and plucked a strand of hair loose from behind her ear. He ran it through his fingers. “You reek of desperation.” His voice was an abyss, dark and low and all-consuming.  

“It’s not nice to tell a lady she reeks.” Maisey spoke before she had time to consider who or what she was talking to. 

A smile curled across his face with the same silkiness as the smoke licking at his feet. “I mean no offense. Your yearning calls to mine.”

Maisey cleared her throat and hoped the candle light’s warm gleam was enough to hide the redness on her cheeks. “Well. That’s better.”

The demon tugged lightly at the hair still pressed between his fingers. “I’m glad it suits you, Maisey.”

Right. The demon knew her name. That was fine. Good. Was it the blood thing? It was probably the blood thing. 

“It seems you know me, but I don’t know you.”

He gave a little bow of his head. “You may call me Deus.”

“Right. Deus. Wonderful to meet you. Uh. I’m gonna be honest, I wasn’t expecting success here. I feel a little unprepared.”

That dangerous smile only grew. “I know what you seek. I can give it to you.”

Maisey bit her lip. “What’s the catch?”

Finally, Deus dropped her hair. The relief was short-lived as he closed the remaining distance between them. He didn’t breathe, nor did he have body heat. If either were true, though, Maisey would have felt it with how close he stood.

“You will face no consequences.”

“This feels too easy.”

Deus’s thumb found her cheek and stroked it softly. He tilted her chin up with the rest of his fingers until their eyes met. “All you get is what you desire.” He leaned in until their noses touched. “And you desire so much. I can taste it. Your want is like drinking the dew of morning grass. It quenches something within me.”

“So, this is sort of a symbiotic thing then? I get what I want and you… eat my desire or something like that?”

He hummed. “Something like that.”

Maisey swallowed. It was still fishy, but… stones unturned and all that. She breathed in and let it go. Once. Twice. After the third, she met Deus’s eyes again. “Deal.”

___

The word she had been searching for was euphoria. The sensation consumed her, rolled over her body like the tide and pulled her down into the undertow. Maisey let herself drown. 

Everything sparked long-forgotten bliss like heat under her skin. The candle light that had returned to normal after Deus disappeared was so… captivating. How could something inanimate be so alive? 

The rain pittering on the roof were the first beats in her long-lost song. Hours later, when morning broke, the caws of the birds added to the rhythm. 

“You’re in a good mood.”

“Thomas!” Maisey ran to him, throwing her arms around his shoulders.

Her brother’s face was far older now than the last time it had brought her this degree of joy. It had to have been when she was in elementary school when he would walk her home. Back then, the sight of him was enough to send butterflies flitting around inside her. “This is my brother,” they said. “He’s kind and safe and here for me.”

Over time, those things became a given. Thomas was kind. He was a safe haven from the outside world, a place Maisey could go to complain or crash or cry. After years of failed relationships and a dead-end job, she visited Thomas often.

“Woah, a really good mood.” He returned the hug. After a full minute, he shoved her back by the forehead and looked into her eyes. “Too good a mood. Are you on drugs? Are you dying?”

“Why would I be this happy if I was dying? No, I just have this feeling things are going to go my way for once.”

Thomas stared for a beat more, then let her go. “If you say so. Come on, we’re burning daylight.”

He drove her to the old river like he did every Saturday morning. Unlike those other trips, this one set Maisey alight. The water was the perfect temperature, and its babbling was a song all its own. The wind embraced her like a long-lost lover. Even the flowers seemed to brighten as she walked by. How had she never noticed just how beautiful this place was?

Maisey looked to Thomas, hoping to see the same delight. Instead, his face was twinged with something she couldn’t place. It was almost a void of expression, a moment of illfitting blankness.

“You alright?” Maisey asked. 

His expression evened out and he shot her a small smile. “Just fine.”

___

“You’re canceling again?” This was three weeks in a row now. 

Thomas sighed on the other side of the call. “Sorry, Mais. I just haven’t been feeling it lately.”

“But you love the river walk.” 

“Yeah, I don’t know what’s going on with me lately. I’m sure I’ll be back to it next week.”

Maisey said her goodbyes and sank into the sofa. It wasn’t just Thomas. Something was up with her best friend, too. Lots of teachers had one of those World’s Best mugs on their desk, but for Janine, it was true. Maisey dropped by her classroom once to bring her lunch, and she’d never seen such attentive, happy third-graders. It was like they felt Janine’s kindness as they would the warmth of the sun. 

Janine called a few nights back. Apparently, she wasn’t as happy with her work as usual. Nothing had changed, but every time she entered her classroom it felt duller, she’d said.

Even her parents were in some sort of funk. They weren’t arguing, exactly, but the few times she’d stopped by, the house felt… empty… even though they were sitting right in front of her. 

“What the hell is going on?’

A cloud of smoke blossomed at her feet. Slowly, Deus rose from the ground and smiled that silky smile of his. “You called.”

“I did?”

Deus hummed. “In a way. You asked a question. I’m here to answer.”

“Talk about customer service,” she said under her breath. 

“You desire to know what’s going on. I deal in desire.” He prowled across the living room and sat in her ratty leather chair. He propped his chin onto his fist and eyed her through long, dark lashes. “What do you know of physics?”

“Well, shit. I wasn’t expecting a quiz. I didn’t study.”

He waved a hand. “No matter. Say you desired money. I can do that. I can make you rich beyond belief. However, if millions of dollars suddenly went into circulation every time someone wished for riches, the economy would collapse. Personally, I don’t care if it does, but there are other powers in charge of that, so I follow the rules.”

“Demons have rules?” Maisey asked, incredulous. 

“The reason I inquired about physics is that, like the Law of Conservation of Mass, we cannot create something out of nothing. Those who gain wealth through our power take it from someone else’s wallet. Those who seek love take that romance from another. You took joy from everyone around you.”

She sucked in a harsh breath. “You said there were no consequences!”

 “I said you would face no consequences.” Maisey gritted her teeth. Bastard. “Do you wish to be rid of this gift?” He snapped his fingers, and the world lost its color. The song died out. Maisey’s own heartbeat felt like a dull throb in her chest. He snapped again, and it all came rushing back. 

As the bliss thrummed through her body, the song rang out even louder. Deus offered his hand, and she took it. Together, they danced around her living room to the rhythm of her ecstasy. His hand was a heavy pressure on the small of her back as he led her in circle after enticing circle. The pleasure of it sent heat rolling through her. 

“I don’t want to get rid of the gift.”

Deus just smiled. Then, he was gone. Maisey danced alone until night fell.

___

For weeks, euphoria blazed in her veins, but it was… different. She took the Saturday morning walks alone. At first, it was just as wonderful as that first time. After a month, though, the babbling water and bright flowers seemed ordinary. It wasn’t enough. She pushed further downstream until she reached the little waterfall that fed the river. There it was, that rapturous delight. 

Slowly, the people around her faded. The light in Thomas’s eyes was so dim it was basically extinguished entirely. Her parents were ghosts haunting their big, empty house. Janine stopped showing up for work. Maisey’s coworkers, her favorite barista, and even her convenience store clerk looked pale and hollowed out. 

The word she was looking for back at the river was apathy. Everyone around her was an emotionless husk. It was her fault. Maisey knew that. She could call Deus, but then what? He would take back the gift? The thought had her fingers digging bloody crescents into her palms. It set her heart racing and her gut sinking down to her feet. No, she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t lose the song again. It was like a drug, and she couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop. 

Another month passed. She hadn’t heard from Thomas at all. Her parents stopped inviting her around. Janine had dropped off the face of the earth after she lost her job. Maisey couldn’t find the energy to call any of them. Like the river and the flowers, all of her little joys had faded away. 

She sought greater pleasure. New experiences always seemed to light the spark, so she tried everything. Skydiving was a favorite. It was something in the icy slap of wind on her cheeks and the fierce fear of the fall. 

Week after week, the euphoria burned hot and ravenous until it burned itself all the way out. Nothing brought her to life anymore. She tried everything she could afford, skimmed a little from her parent’s rainy-day fund for the things she couldn’t. Now, even that was gone. Maisey ached for a grander joy. Bigger thrills. 

For that, though, she needed wealth.  

Deus appeared in a slow, unfurling cloud of smoke, a smile on his face and ringed fingers reaching out for her hand.  

“Do you want to make a deal?”