Eleanor bobs her head to the rapid bassline, oblivious to Michelle’s fright. Michelle is unaware of the skilled control of the woman at her side as René’s power snakes through the throngs of show-goers, heightening their most benign desires. Bottles clink, and to their left, but not risking proximity to the devil, a pit begins to form as the most rough-and-tumble of the youth launch themselves into each other and hit up against a wall of hands reaching forward to shove them back into the center. Eleanor is fascinated. Michelle gulps. René is busy.

Outside of the crowd circling the pit, against the five-string bass racing with blastbeats and the double-picking of two down-tuned guitars, hands reach for hands, and arms loop around shoulders.  Extending his reach and finding so many alignments in desires, René goads increasing numbers to take their chances. The moon is bright, and aren’t they lovely? What if you leaned closer? What if they met you halfway? What if you told them? Wouldn’t you like to ask?

The band is unaware of no longer being the center of attention for most of those beyond the pit, whisper-shouting variations on the theme of “What are you doing after this?” and “Wanna take a walk?” into each other’s ears over the riffs and guttural shrieks they’d shown up for.  Fable watches from a branch high above as small bits of the constellation beneath him split off and wander into the darker trees together. With the throng splitting into smaller groups and pairs as the mood shifts, the shadows still as the agitation and unease they’d been fomenting dwindle to nothing, replaced by engineered euphoria.

From her spot in the crook of the devil’s neck, Jinx pinches his ear and says, “Are you serious?”

“It wasn’t my original plan, but it’s a plan that’s working,” he whispers back, shrugging gently so as not to unseat her.

“They are disappearing,” she concedes. “Now, don’t you think it’s time to get them out of here?” she sighs.

“Yeah, yeah, in a minute. One more thing,” he answers and, inhaling, smiles.

René leans down level with the girls, “I’m about to call it a night, my friends. Want to walk back to town with me?”

“Yes!” Michelle brightens instantly. “We don’t want to be alone, right Noni?” she asks, purely logically, certainly with no other intentions.

“Right,” Eleanor smiles at the name, not processing a word other than it.

René pats both of their heads. “Just stand here for two shakes of a tail while I say goodbye to someone. I will be three feet away.”

Michelle gripped his hand and shook her head. “No. We’ll come too.” Linking arms with Eleanor, she looks up expectantly. “Where to?”

“Oh, ok, sure.” He leads them four steps to their right. Eleanor is still looking back and forth between the pit and the band. Michelle watches as the nice big sister reaches up and taps the tall guy who looks like a bull. He slowly drags his attention from the lanky newt-shaped guitarist and blinks down, startled to see René beckoning him to bend closer.

“Tip from me to you, big fella, that one loves the gâteau du diable too,” René whispers into a silky black ear blending into his long, shaggy hair.

“Oh. I don’t…” he starts and stops, heat radiating from his olive skin. His tail swats the air, shooing away the thought before it can form.

“Mmhm,” René nods and slaps his massive shoulder swathed in a studded denim vest. “Have a truly excellent night,” he winks, “if you dare.” He turns with a wave as he herds the girls out of the assemblage of overheating youth.

Dodging teens plastered to each other, they make it to the treeline and slip out of the soundproofing charms. Engulfed in silence, Michelle freezes while Eleanor shakes her head and then tries swallowing to relieve what seems like a change in air pressure. René pauses and looks down at them, asking, “You girls ok?”

“Oh. I felt like my ears stopped working,” Michelle says, only now registering the crackle of leaves beneath them and the thunks of their feet on the forest floor. She looks at Eleanor and then in the direction she was staring.

“Why is it so quiet when all that is going on right there?” Eleanor asks, about to step back into the clearing for Science.

“Ah, just a neat acoustical thing with this spot. I guess that’s why they picked it?” René offers.

“Oh, something about the combe? But were we even in the combe?” Michelle asks.

“We were near the edge, close to the only good spot to descend,” he answers truthfully, walking ahead. Michelle grabs Eleanor’s hand and pulls her along. They walk in silence for a few minutes, three minds lost in different directions.

No longer content to keep her thoughts to herself, Eleanor begins, “Do you go to lots of shows?”

“Not so much these days, no,” René answers.

“That was my first show.”

“What did you think?”

Eleanor thinks for a moment. “I liked the band. I’m so glad we met you, or we would’ve stayed in the back. The pit was crazy!”

René laughs. “Very intense. I liked the band too. They were not what I was expecting.” He doubted they had anything to do with the trap. I wonder where they got the flyers printed. Guess I’ll find out when the big guy brings him in for a date. He grins to himself, unseen in the dark.

“I didn’t expect there to be so much kissin’,” Eleanor confides. Michelle gasped and giggled. “Yeah, what was going on? Is that normal?”

Shoulders shaking, he sends Jinx popping into the ether to keep from hitting the ground; his cackle spooking the tiny forest creatures and smaller glooms. “Teenage hormones are no joke.”

The girls exchange looks, their horror showing in the moon’s glow. “I think I’ll just skip straight to twenty,” Michelle groans.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s a better plan than just staying ten.” Eleanor decides.