A Princess in exile. A King dethroned, possibly dead. A land ruled by a ruthless Lord Protector. Rebel leaders in hiding. A people crushed, longing for freedom.
A score of boys will rise and use music to inflame the hearts of the people and keep the rebellion alive. And through music the signal for the beginning of the end will come at last.
It is a beautiful day to be alive, the redheaded woman leaned casually against a tree to the side of the main crowd, looking up at the stage with a pretend expression of fangirl adoration. It was early summer and the feathery soft rain turned the warm air to shimmering silver.
On the raised stage, ten voices rose in perfect harmony, ten faces lifted to the heavens as the rain misted their faces, already glistening with sweat. Ten young men idolized by the screaming, cheering crowd gathered below them.
The song, an old ballad, ended and the singers bowed. The leader, broad shouldered Eagle, made a short speech to the crowd, thanking them for braving the rain and coming out to see them.
Guarded by their sturdy bodyguards, the FlyHy1 group made its way down off the stage. Fans thronged either side of the walkway and the FlyHy1 boys leaned past their security to shake a few hands. One of the hands Hawk shook was the hand of the red-head from the tree. He smiled kindly on her, as he had on everyone else who had shaken hands with him, and slid the bracelet she gifted him onto his wrist.
The red-head watched as FlyHy1 left. The slightest smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth. They had the message.
Once inside the carriage, Hawk slid the bracelet into his pocket. He said nothing until they were back at the house they all shared. He whispered a word in Eagle’s ear as the boys gathered for dinner.
Eagle said nothing until after dinner. He sat down before the piano and began playing a haunting melody. One by one the other boys left the room, and at last, Eagle stood up and left too, walking calmly and slowly to the observation tower at the very top of the house. He closed the door firmly, locked it, and looked at Hawk.
“All clear,” he confirmed.
“So, who gave the message?” Peregrine asked.
Hawk pulled the bracelet from his pocket and handed it to Eagle, “Bluebird.”
“She was there?” Magpie looked surprised and disappointed. “I didn’t see her.”
“Me either,” Flamingo sounded equally disappointed. All the boys were no end of curious about their rebel contact and hated to miss a chance of seeing her.
“She was a red-head this time,” Hawk said absently, watching Eagle pull a piece of paper from one of the links in the bracelet.
Eagle read it quickly, then handed it to Hawk, who also read it and passed it on around the circle.
“Is this bad news or good?” Flamingo frowned as he passed it on to Raven.
“I don’t know,” Eagle shook his head. “And I’m not sure she does either.”
“Good or bad, our task is clear, isn’t it?” Hawk’s eyes were glued to his leader’s figure.
Eagle turned from the window where he had been staring out at the city, now dark gray with the rain sheeting down.
“It is. We spread the word. Which means we have song lyrics to adjust and excuses to invent, so let’s get busy.”
This is my last plot bunny for the June Crusade. I enjoyed it immensely and want to thank Anne-girl and Wilbur for hosting it, and all of you who read and commented on my plot bunnies. I have no idea when I will actually begin writing any of these, but I will keep you posted when I do start.
Miss Melody Muffin