Dara, Page, and the Secrets of the Multiverse

▷ 13.2

"Who are you?" the woman asked, her gently-sloped eyebrows creasing her forehead. In the dark, she never really lost the pale sheen rolling off her skin. She drew her arms around herself, glowering at Page's entire being. "What are you doing here?"

Page realized the broomstick must have spooked her, so he lowered it. A sigh tore off his lips, forcing him to relax. Whoever this woman was, she wasn't here to hurt him. Otherwise, he'd already be a rabbit in a hat in the middle of a troupe by now. Was he convinced she was magic? Well, who could pull off a look straight out of a medieval fantasy book, glow like a freaking lava lamp, and have a killer singing voice in a language no one understood? He could be dreaming, but right now, he stared at a magical woman who was lost inside Gary's studio.

He scratched the back of his head. "I'm one of the workers here. I was closing up for the night when I heard your song," he explained, omitting the important parts such as doing this for double pay or the potential genre-bending songs for the label. "Let's just say I was entranced by it."

The woman didn't look like she believed it, but she looked away, not pressing further. "I suppose you have come to tell me to find another place to stay?" she ventured.

Page opened his mouth to confirm it. Yes, Gary asked him to chase out whoever was disrupting the recording sessions...but he didn't say uproot the person completely. As far as Page was aware, the broom closet wasn't in use, nor would it ever. Gary was happy with the redesign of the rooms beyond. He didn't need a bigger room the size of a high school gym. That was, of course, until he did. Perhaps, it was Page's job to make sure he would never.

So, he clapped his hands together and gave the woman the nicest smile he could. The fact that she could speak a language he was conversational in was a huge, huge bonus. "You can stay here for as long as you like." He shook his head at the woman's statement earlier. "But I came to tell you about the songs...disturbing other people who use this building during the day."

The woman frowned. "Day?" She tilted her head to one side. "What is 'day'?"

Page blinked. "Oh. Um, it's the time of the...day where the sun is out, and it's bright and happy, and people are up and about." He scratched his chin. Why was his own language so complicated? "It can also refer to the entire cycle of sun and moon rising in the sky. But...I totally meant the hours the sun is in the sky until the time it comes down."

Much to his consternation, the woman's frown deepened. "What is a 'sun'?"

He glanced at his arm and noticed his watch peeking past the sleeves. An idea sparked in his head. The latches clicked off when he slid it off his wrist. Slowly, he approached the woman. She didn't scoot away in horror. Just...watching him with wary eyes. No claws unsheathed, no fangs bared, so it should be good.

"Here," he said, passing her the watch. He tapped a finger on the crystal face. "See those hands? The sun will come out the moment the long hand and the short hand point here and here. It sets around the same time, so you might want to wait until it comes back to its starting position. After that, you are free to sing to your heart's content, at least until the hands come back to the same position again. Does that make sense?"