Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
I could have stabbed him, but it didn’t seem like the thing to do. Then again, maybe I couldn’t, because one of my arms was pinned across my chest and the other beneath his bare forearm above my head.
Bare.
In the darkness, his warm, raw, beating flesh was covering me like a massive ogre blanket, but the other ogre had been wearing clothes, and no one would get naked in the mayor’s courtyard just to catch a stone roof. His chest was definitely wearing nothing other than my long hair, although I couldn’t see anything beneath the pile of rocks until he opened his eyes, showing a flicker of glowing gold with specks of neon blue. The golden lines spread across his cheekbones like tears to his temples. On his forehead, an outlined circle came to life with threads of glowing gold flaring out like sunbeams.
A battle ogre who could manipulate magic was on top of me under a mountain of stone, and I was on top of my harp. That’s when I panicked.
I pushed up towards him, trying to twist around and get my weight off my harp, but he grunted and didn’t move, almost like he had nowhere to go, and I just ended up plastered against his chest pushing into the muscles while I wriggled.
Stone shifted above us, and he grunted. “You might wish to remain still. Not crushing you is difficult enough without your movements.” His voice was low, deep, but the pronunciation was precise even if the words were spoken slowly. Ogres didn’t usually bother to learn words that didn’t have direct meaning. An ogre would say, ‘no move’ or ‘crushed’ instead of all those extra words that had no real purpose other than to keep linguistic rules.
I held still, but my harp was the first instrument I’d ever had, the thing I’d taken home with me when I was a kid and had my first ogre encounter, and this monster had magic similar to the top ranking warrior ogres. “Yes, thanks, but my harp…”
He took a deep breath that I felt on my skin, a long inhale that brought back a rush of horrified memories. I’d been smelled by ogres so often on the battlefield. It’s like they could tell I hated it and did it just to infuriate me.
I shoved my elbow into his throat and tried to get space between us, almost forgetting about my harp. “Are you smelling me?!”
The gold flickered brighter before fading into complete darkness. “If you’d prefer I breathe through my mouth, that can be arranged, but ogres can taste by tongue as well as nose, so if you are trying to protect your scent, it will not work either way. If I lose consciousness from not breathing, you will be crushed by me as well as the stones covering us.”
I took a shallow breath and tried to hold still and not panic and not put too much weight on my harp and also not press into his raw, muscular body. “Right. Breathing is necessary, but do you have to be naked?”
He rumbled a low laugh that I felt from his belly into mine. The sound was so powerful in spite of how soft it was, barely anything more than a breath, but that diaphragm could move mountains when it wanted. Which was interesting musically, because I’d heard ogres roar in battle and it wasn’t easy to forget. And now one of them was on top of me. And he had magic. And he’d saved me from the collapsing arch.
“I am wearing shorts,” he finally said. “Relax. They will dig us out soon enough. We aren’t on a desolate mountain or a lonely trail. They’ll probably even rescue us before I run out of air and lose consciousness and crush you to death.” He sounded so pleasant about crushing me to death.
“Then you shouldn’t talk so much. Try to conserve oxygen.” Where was my chicken? She must have flown off when I fell, transporting to safety. Could Yaga get help? Who would be the best person to rescue me? My brother would get rid of the stones, but he’d probably kill both of us in the process. Libby was a librarian, had married a powerful vampire, but I wasn’t sure how good she’d be at getting rid of rocks. Anna. Anna the healer, was also a sorcerer. She’d be able to get us out of this mess, no problem.
“Yaga, get Anna,” I whispered, frowning in concentration and pulling on the bindings that I had with the pretentious fire-chicken.
“What god are you praying to?” he rumbled in my ear, sending goosebumps over my skin. Ogres had very low voices, deep bass that could range lower than human hearing. His breath smelled like mint and wild wind as his cheek brushed my nose.
“Save your breath,” I responded because we really needed to conserve oxygen and I didn’t want to give attention to what that small contact with my nose had done to me. How many tons was the ogre holding up? Where had he come from? I would have noticed an enormous, mostly naked ogre in the town hall square, but I’d completely missed him.
We spent a few minutes in quiet darkness with only his ragged breathing and my shallow breaths keeping us company. It seemed like I could hear distant shouts, but it was impossible to be sure. I’d just pretend I was under a blanket fort in my bed back at the music hall. A breathing blanket fort with teeth and tusks.
“How are you holding up?” I whispered when his body started trembling with effort.
“I thought we weren’t speaking. Also, what would you do to assist me?”
I took a shaky breath. What could I do in this situation? Nothing appropriate, which would be to keep my distance and ignore the ogre if I weren’t trying to defeat him. If I didn’t want to die, I had to give him the magic I had for healing. It wasn’t much, because I was much better at killing, but every bit of strength made a difference. “I could sing strength into you. I’m better with an instrument, but I can certainly—” I started to sing, because no sense spending air on words when music could actually do something to help.
I pressed my palm against his chest over his heart and relaxed into the angel song, strengthening, encouraging, supporting him in his efforts to keep us from getting crushed. By the time the song was done, I was dizzy, partly from the lack of enough air, but mostly because this kind of magic wiped me out, the healing kind. My whole life I’d been trained for war, hurting not healing.
“You have a fine song,” he finally said, so soft that it could have been a distant wave crashing on the shore.
I was worn out, and the world faded in and out until finally, with a deafening silence, the stones turned into feathers, and the weight was lifted. The ogre rolled off me and pulled me to my feet while fluff floated all around, making it impossible to make out his features clearly, but what I saw was nothing close to the ogre from inside, not when he was twice as large, with a jaw that could take a hit from a cannon beneath tusks made for killing, but his blue eyes were clear and crisp like a sky in autumn. His dark hair was tied back and covered in gray dust and fine feathers. There was no war in his eyes, even if I’d seen the gold marks of his battle magic.
"Come to the music hall and I will happily reward you for keeping me from getting crushed," I said, trying to look like I hadn’t just been beneath his mostly naked body. I waved away feathers so I could see all of him, but I only got a glimpse of his burly chest before he backed away towards the building, pushing through the feathers like a ship through the sea.
“You are the music master?”
I nodded and swept a feather off my face, but it stuck to my mouth and then my nose until I sneezed and a whole wave of feathers fluttered around, leaving me in a blizzard of white.
“Mirabel, is that you? Are you okay?” Anna waded into the mess of fluff with Yaga under her arm, looking like a mafia lord gone poultry. The low v of her tailored vest showcased her scars and gold chains, but it was the hat that tipped her over the edge into organized crime.
“Anna!” I lunged towards her, swimming through the feathers until I reached her. I threw my arms around her and held her tight while I tried not to hyperventilate. Although now I had enough air, I could hyperventilate if I wanted to.
I pulled back and took Yaga, cooing at her while she looked very proud of herself for being a rescue chicken. “You both saved me! Thank you so much.”
Anna smiled and patted Yaga on the head. “She thinks she’s the raging end of the world. From where I was standing, it seemed like the ogre was on top of you. Is he running off so fast because he doesn’t want me to tear off his limbs for getting inappropriate?”
I turned around and saw the ogre climbing the building. He was enormous. I’d fought large warriors, and he wasn’t any smaller than the finest specimens that could easily throw a horse, but he was also agile, graceful as he climbed, his pale blue skin rippling over his muscles.
Anna whistled. “You know, I’m getting the vibe that you didn’t mind that body all over you.” She wiggled her brows and winked at me.
I didn’t know what to say, although I was pretty sure my cheeks were getting pink. He’d saved me from getting crushed by the stone. Whoever he was and wherever he’d come from, I owed him my life. Yes he was fascinating to watch as he effortlessly hauled himself over the lip of the roof and vanished from sight, but that had nothing to do with what I really thought or wanted. I swung my harp off my shoulder, pulling it out of the case to check it. It was in pieces, my beautiful harp that I’d learned how to play on so long ago by the one civilized ogre in the war camp where I’d been kept for days as a young child.
My heart sank as I lifted one piece and then another. I’d deal with this later. I put everything back in my case and turned to smile at Anna, even though it felt wobbly. Everything felt wobbly.
“You turned everything into feathers?” I asked, kicking towards the edge where a large crowd had gathered and was watching with a great deal of interest.
“What can I say? Your chicken inspired me. What happened? How did the building collapse on you? Was it magically manipulated?” Anna pursed her lips. “I can’t check for residual magic because the stones are now feathers. Was your meeting with the mayor ominous? Do you think he wants to kill you?”
I sighed heavily and headed towards the street, past all the people staring at us. At least it had stopped raining. “He wants to kill me with work, not with falling buildings. The ogre really did keep me from getting crushed to death. What can I give an ogre that says thank you without inferring lifetime servitude?”
“A rock? Don’t ogres like rocks, or is that trolls? Oh, trolls turn into rocks! Now I remember. No idea what ogres like, but you could offer a kiss.” She wiggled her eyebrows again, and I felt unsettled because I really had been obscenely close to so much absolute and utter strength. It was hard not to notice it personally. Still, he was an ogre. I was a daughter of the Holy Order of the Swords of Truth, even if I was hiding from my family.
I glanced one more time at the building’s roof, but the ogre was long gone. It was time for me to be as well.
We got to the street and a big black car was waiting for us. “This is ours,” Anna said, opening the back door for me. “Come on. I’ll give you a ride. You need your harp to be functional to be able to protect yourself with music, right?”
Not really. I was a daughter of the HOSTs. I could certainly kill using angelic runes and a little blood, not to mention hand-to-hand combat. Pity I couldn’t dissolve stones with my magic. I smiled instead of burdening her with any of that. “Thanks. It might rain again, and that does terrible things to my hair.”
She nodded sympathetically and climbed into the car. I climbed after her, holding Yaga to my chest while my heart pounded too fast. I was trying not to freak out about everything, but my harp was broken. After trauma, I liked to go to my room and cuddle my harp and play popular commercial jingles. Being nearly crushed by tons of rocks wasn’t the best way to end my day, particularly when my meeting with the mayor had been a disaster.
What if he reported me to the music guild, and they notified my dad before I was established? My father was the Commander of HOSTs, so while he probably wouldn’t have me put to death for running away from my guild, I’d be publicly humiliated and then serve my penance, which would probably include marrying some lion like one my brother’s idiot friends. My life would be over. That was overly dramatic. It wouldn’t be awful because my father would make certain I was treated well, and after I had one child could pursue whatever hobbies I wanted, but I wanted to actually make a difference in the world, starting with saving Singsong City. I’d thought that I could follow in my dad’s ex’s footsteps. Hope was the Lieutenant of HARPs, and I’d begged my father for so long to let me join them once I realized I couldn’t put music away as a harmless hobby and become a true lion like my brother. But it turned out that slaughtering thousands with song wasn’t really my calling. It really, really wasn’t.
I’d planned on living Hope’s kind of life, working my way up the ranks until I took a husband from the HOST’s ranks and had the expected child before returning to active duty, but my dad’s second wife, my mother, who had died in childbirth, hadn’t given me the right kind of genetics for that. I’d always struggled to be the perfect soldier who never asked any questions, but my half-brother, Richard had always covered for me so I’d made it through my first sixteen years as an acolyte. My aim changed to the HARPs division because music was my true obsession. Hope had taught my brother music, the only thing they did together, so he’d taught me even though he wasn’t nearly as interested as I was, which was sad since he was twice as talented as me. He was a lion all the way. He’d probably eventually become the next Commander of HOSTs and he’d be perfect if he could stop being quite so dramatic. Then again, being a commander took a certain level of dramatic presentation.
Richard knew that I was in Singsong City, but so far he hadn’t told my dad. If he had, I wouldn’t be here, not when my position at the music hall was just me showing up and saying I was the new music master without actually being elected by the music guild. Details. It would all work out. After I’d died from ulcers. And now I had rocks falling on me along with ogres, my least favorite infernal breed. There weren’t a lot of ogres in Singsong. I would have noticed. But I’d managed to run into two.
“You seem kind of upset,” Anna said, bringing me back to the car where I was squeezing Yaga too tight. I released my hold on the fowl and she shook herself and settled down to preen while I leaned against the backrest and shot my friend a glance.
“I thought I was handling the trauma with an extreme amount of composure.”
She snorted and grinned at me, making the scars across one cheek pull taut. “Sure you are. There’s a new sushi place in Song that Libby wants us to try it out. Are you free tomorrow? I’ll ask her to do research on ogres, specifically what would work as a thank-you.” She wiggled her eyebrows like a lunatic, because only a lunatic would find an ogre physically attractive. “She’s paying.”
When had I ever been able to turn down free sushi? I didn’t even try. I just smiled brightly. “I’m there. How are you doing? How’s the whole Grand Sorcerer thing?” She’d had terrible amnesia when we first met, but when she finally got her memories back, it turned out she was the Grand Sorcerer. Of the world. Usually I’d stay far away from sorcerers of any kind, but she was the sweetest person, even if she was filled with dark magic.
She pursed her lips thoughtfully while her eyes got kind of unfocused. “It’s a distraction from taking advantage of my husband’s body, but I delegate almost everything.” She shot me a grin while my cheeks heated up at the memory of the ogre’s very strong body holding up a building to save me. “You’re blushing. No doubt you’re too busy saving the music hall to have time for courtship. You could delegate some of that responsibility.”
“If I had the funds, I could hire more competent musicians that could take some weight, but as it is…” I slumped my shoulders. Now I had a Jubilee to do something about and that reporter to deal with. I did not need more responsibility without pay. Maybe it would be better to go home wrapped in chains than deal with the administration of an utterly corrupt city run by an evil fairy. The mayor was certainly nothing close to heavenly.
She patted my knee. “Don’t worry. We’re going to get sushi and we can talk about different ways to fund the guild. You’re going to be fine.”
After she dropped me off in front of the music hall, I was walking down the alley that led to the back areas, the big kitchen, and access to my quarters in the rear tower when Tiago, my classical guitar instructor, stepped out of shadows that had hidden him until he was right in front of me.
I gasped while my heart beat faster and I spread my hand, preparing a spell that would paralyze him along with a few bars of music.
I opened my mouth to lecture him for startling me, but he put a hand to his lips and nodded me back the way we’d come. We walked quickly down the cobbled street until we had gone half a block and were out of sight of the music hall before he turned to me, his eyes concerned.
“Music Master Mirabel, it seems that the music guild has sent a representative to make sure things are in order. Rather, they seem disappointed that it’s not as ruined as it was when you first arrived. When they didn’t send a new music master directly after our dearly departed Huckleberry died I wondered if they were withdrawing support through some deal with one of the guilds that would rather see Singsong City crumble to dust, but then they sent you, and you were so surprisingly and strangely competent that I put all thoughts of sabotage out of my mind, but this weasel poking around the music hall is Master Cutter. He’s the one they send when they want to shut down a hall whether it’s for political issues or whether it’s a falling-down wreck that is making the guild look bad.”
“He’s not bringing money?” I asked, while a flutter of panic stirred my most recent ulcers.
He narrowed his eyes. “Bringing money? Sometimes it seems as if you never spent any time with the music guild at all. You have to petition the guild for money, and they give it most reluctantly unless you have the means to threaten them with personal ties with one of the greater guilds, the Gray Society for example, or a position on the board cemented through years of political maneuvering.”
“It’s corrupt?” I blinked rapidly while all my plans crashed and burned. I sank down on the curb and Tiago sat down next to me.
“Most guilds are,” he said, patting my arm like he could see my panic rising higher and higher.
“Not the HOST.”
He shivered. “No, but only because they burn out any impurities of the soul with their angel magic. Whole guild is full of masochists. I heard that the current commander had to be forced to take the position.”
My dad was forced? What could old Tiago possibly know about it? He toyed with his monocle and studied the street while his long nose twitched. “Music Master Mirabel, I suggest that you avoid Master Cutter.”
“How can I avoid him when he’s at my music hall?” I should meet him and impress him with all that I’d accomplished, but if he was only here to destroy the hall… but why wouldn’t the guild not want all of their halls to be a success?
“Hm. He will finish his audit and then take his information with him back to the guild headquarters in Apple City. If he doesn’t see you, he can’t tell you anything you don’t want to hear.”
It was almost like he knew I wasn’t the real Music Master of Singsong City, but didn’t mind being deceived and bossed around by a pretender. I sniffed with another upwelling of emotions and stress. I really didn’t need more feelings right then, but it was so nice of Tiago to try to keep me from being found out by the guild, and I’d put him through so much, dragging him out of his partial retirement teaching private lessons to Elven debutantes so that he could do grunt musical maintenance and instruct the lowly citizens of Singsong without pay.
The street got blurry until I wiped my eyes with the back of my arm. “Thank you, Tiago. I can stay in the?—”
“Don’t tell me, and I won’t have to lie.” He handed me a handkerchief. “You’ll probably want to purchase a change of clothing. You look like a building fell on you.” His eyes twinkled and then he stood, brushed off his spotless pants and meandered back towards the music hall like he’d never had a guilty conscience in his life.
I wiped my face on Tiago’s handkerchief and noticed the amount of pale dust that came off. I definitely needed a bath and something to wear that would blend in with the usual citizens of Singsong City better than my now ripped, formerly black frock-coat.
The music hall owned several places in the city to house musicians, and the apartment in the Lydian hadn’t been occupied for some time since Libby married her vampire. I’d stay there, just across the hall from Libby’s two-world suite and if things turned worst-case scenario… No, if my dad came for me, I wouldn’t ask for help, because whoever helped me would be ashes. Richard would be the one who killed everyone. My brother was the lionest lion of them all. He had no compunction against ending a life. He believed in the continuation of the soul, that once a body was put to rest, the spirit could be at peace. I believed that, except that when I was the one sending thousands of souls to their rest, I couldn’t quite commit. Nope. I’d almost single-handedly destroyed my own division thanks to my hesitation. Hope would kill me if she saw me again, whether she thought I’d be at rest afterwards or not.
It was getting late as I walked towards the second-hand clothing store where the shop owner had an ever evolving stripes fetish. This month it was black and white, which went with her makeup and wardrobe and the black-and-white-striped suit that was next-level.
“Hey, Stripes,” I said, walking in and browsing the first rack by the door.
“That’s not my name, just my art. Also, no animals allowed. The last time you came in with your bird, you torched an original Dior.”
I snuggled Yaga, who gave Stripes a cold chicken-glare for not appreciating her magnificence. “I’m supposed to take the blame for the werewolf who decided it wanted to chase my beautiful magical beast? Fine. I’ll take my business to Oscar. I need a few outfits, something comfortable, spelled for defense, cheap, and machine washable. Have you considered coming down to the music hall to take part in the beautiful work that we do to serve our community?”
She snorted and came around the counter with narrowed eyes. “I serve the community just fine, giving Oscar’s Emporium some healthy competition. What are your priorities? You can’t have all of those things, particularly spelled for defense and also cheap. Also, do you know how hard it is to spell things that are machine washable?”
I blinked at her while I considered her coloring, her bright eyes and pointed features. Did she do her own spellwork on her clothing? She must have some strains of witch blood mixed with her humanity. “I can honestly say, no.”
She frowned as she circled me slowly. “I have a floral silk robe that is beautifully spelled and will be hard for traffic to miss, so you could consider that as part of the defense spell that you don’t even have to pay extra for.” She gave me a closed-mouth smile that managed to be diabolical and demure at the same time. Maybe she had some fairy blood in her, too.
“So it’s hideous? Figures.”
“But it’s comfortable and well-spelled. Although not machine washable, you can spell it clean, no problem, using your music magic. And for today it’s on sale, along with the rest of the floral department. We could do a whole floral theme for you. Think what a statement that would make.” Her eyes sparkled with her machinations. Definitely fairy blood.
“That I shop sales and have no sense of professionalism,” I muttered as I sat down on the bench against the wall under a billowing veil attached to a white wedding dress that would fit a giant or an ogre. Ogres. I sighed heavily as I remembered that massive chest that had been covering me for hours. I was too tired to fight the inevitable with my limited funds. I’d get back to my own place and my own clothes soon enough, but today Stripes would win the battle. Also, I secretly had a thing for florals, but I’d never tell a soul. “Do your worst.”
“Seriously? You’ll let me florify you?” She giggled and then went to work, running up and down the aisles with her arms outstretched like a mighty striped bat taking down her prey. I appreciated her enthusiasm. Someone should have enthusiasm. For me, the weight of the world was crushing me even if I wasn’t still literally buried alive.