o1

...When Down Came a Little Bird and Snapped Off Her Nose

No one really talked to her that day, except when they needed something or had a job for her. That didn't bother her too much. She was used to it by now. Even thought the rest of the crew-the roadies, the tech guys, the security guards, the merch kids-had all become like another family, they still treated her with like a little child. Actually, now that she thought about it, they treated her exactly the same way her real family did.

'So much for a tight knit family,' Jess thought a little sardonically. She felt bad for thinking it. It wasn't their fault. They weren't used to dealing with someone like her. The young sphinx (only three centuries old) stretched lazily, spreading her wings like a vulture to catch the noon day sun. She was glad the venue was an outdoor one. Even though she was young and the runt of her litter to boot, she was still the size of a full grown draft horse. All of the backstage areas in the indoor venues were either a tight fit or too small for her to get into with the rest of the crew, the bands and the equipment. It was nice to have wing room. She especially liked being out in the sun and the fresh air again.

"Hey Jess," called one of the roadies, a tan kid with a tall mohawk, "Any disturbances up there?"

"No, Mick, nothing yet," she said, lowering herself so she could look the six-foot-two roadie in the eye. Mick looked a little disappointed. He shifted the bundle of cables he was carrying from one arm to the other.

"Ya know," he said, looking up at the overcast sky, "This wouldn't drive me so crazy if it weren't for all the suspense."

"It's hard for humans who've been through attacks," Jess said sympathetically, adding in a deep purr to emphasize the sympathy of her words, "Your kind aren't used to things like that yet."

Mick kept looking at the overcast sky. Out of all the crew, he was the one who talked to Jess the most. He had been caught in the middle of a shadow attack at the beginning of the tour, when Jess had been just a concert patron and not a part of the tour. He carried several long scars down his back as proof. If it hadn't been for Jess and a healer who'd been in the crowd, he would have died. "It's weird," he said, "Going from the top of the food chain to...well."

"Shadows have always been apart of the human world," Jess said quietly, "It's because humanity's widen perception that they've become more volatile." She stretched her wings, shading the young man. "You should be flattered in a way. In the past only a select few humans with concentrate power could attract them. Now it only takes the combined passions of a couple hundred hurt children to draw them out."

"Is that really how things like you see us?" snapped Mick, glaring over his shoulder at the calm female face just a little above him.

"Even your oldest human nothing but a toddler to me," said Jess with some amusement, "There's not a human soul living that was present at my conception. To me all the humans that attend these rock concerts, even the musicians themselves are not more than sad, lost little children."

Mick was quiet for a long time, leaving Jess to purr softly to herself. It wasn't a true feline noise, more of a deep throated hum. The affect it had on the humans around it was the same as a cat's purr, though. When Mick spoke again, his voice sounded almost like a real child's. "Are you going to sing again tonight?"

"It's not really singing," hummed Jess, "But if there are no objections then yes, I shall."

"I think some of the other guys, 'specially Liam...I think they're having nightmares again."

Jess's heart softened. Liam was the vocalist and front man for the headlining band, The Open Cut. A tall, slim youth with a mop of black hair and pale skin. He too had been in the shadow attack, but at a far deeper level than Mick. Nightmares were common among shadow victims, but Liam, an already dark young man, had slowly progressed into night terrors. Jess had taken to softly chanting in her deep hum after shows, a little ways away from the humans. It eased her home-sickness, quietly reciting legends and stories in the old tongue. After the attack, it wasn't uncommon to find humans dawdling close at hand. The magic of voice and words meant to comfort sphinx-sized loneliness had a similar, stronger affect on human-sized sorrow and pain. She had taken note long before they started asking her if she was "going to sing again tonight?" She also began to put more comfort behind the songs, strengthening the empathy of the magic and the effect it had on it's human audience.

She did wish that there was a nightingale or even a siren about to help. Siren songs were far more powerful than any human drug and, like human drugs, could be used in a constructive manner. Really though, she would have preferred a nightingale. They had kept their humble and compassionate natures from the old fairytales and were a great help in long term care of clinical depression cases.

"Jess?" Mick's slightly anxious voice shook her out of her thoughts.

"Yes?"

"I just wanted to say thanks," he said softly, almost shyly, "For, well, for everything. I mean it's not like you're even getting payed for any of this and..."

"I am a sphinx, Mick," she said, standing slowly, "My reason for existing is to protect the lives entrusted to me. That includes protecting you from yourselves." She cast timeless gold eyes down on him, "You had better take those cables to Eddie before he pops a vein."

"Uh, yeah, yer right," mumbled the suddenly shy roadie, "I'll see ya later, Jess."

No one ever really talked with Jess for very long, but it didn't bother her. After all, the sudden presence of an archaic, omnipotent creature amongst so many lost and lonely souls was enough to banish any and all forms of friendly, pointless chatter. She really should have found a nightingale to come on the tour. They were so much better with people.

TBC

A/N: See if you can identify all the lullabies the titles came from (cuz I like stupid little games:B).