The chord fades. They are very still, and very close. Then a harsh crimson flare from the wings, drunken laughter, the clash of heavy platters. The spell shatters. NABU jolts upright, the fear flooding back. NABU. The feast. It's — I have to go, I'm meant to be directing the fanfares. (he gathers his tablets in a panic, then stops, turns back to her with sudden intensity) Aviva. Listen to me. If the king calls for a song tonight — and he will — sing the counting song. Sing the praise of the gates. Give them the gold. (urgent, low) Whatever you do, do not give them the river. Promise me. Tonight is not a night to be brave. He rushes off with his tablets. AVIVA is left alone as the palace transforms around her into something darker and grander. Unsettled, she reaches for the one thing that steadies her — her mother's lullaby — humming it under her breath. AVIVA. (singing softly to herself) Golden in the morning, doves on the... (she stops. The next word is gone.) ...doves on the... Silence. She tries again and cannot find it. The forgotten line frightens her more than the king ever did. The gold is doing exactly what Daniel warned it would. ♫ REPRISE: "HUSH NOW" (broken) — Aviva (A fragile, half-remembered fragment of the lullaby, breaking off where her memory fails. She presses a hand to her mouth. The crimson light spreads and swallows the amber.)
