Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
I played a few strums, bringing the shields down and hopped off the platform to stand next to the ogre that I was going to cook a meal for. “Lanise, you can stop strumming,” I told her, shooting her a smile before I went to the first leg of the platform and started taking it down. The enormous ogre kept close to me while I moved around the structure, trying not to notice the half dozen stone artisans from my hall with him who looked like battle ogres in this situation, particularly the way they created a perimeter line to keep anyone from snapping at my heels. Disciplined ogres were worth their weight in gold, and they were extremely heavy.
“Music Master, you go to Arrook,” the enormous ogre said once the platform was collapsed and Lanise picked it up, ready to carry it back.
“Ah, that is a good idea that I have a conversation with him, but…”
“Car is here,” he said, gesturing at the car pulling through the crowd. It was gorgeous and looked more like a sculpture or a musical instrument than a vehicle for transportation. The driver got out and came around to open the back door for me. In this neighborhood, he left the car running, but apparently ogres with that many scars on his face and neck and those creepy white eyes didn’t need to worry about crime, because everyone gave him an extremely wide berth. I stared at him before I glanced away, trying not to be rude. If that was the guy I thought he was…
The goblin authority gave a short laugh, like the crack of a whip. “Seems like your ride is here. You will have what you’ve asked for. Hopefully Singsong City survives this Jubilee and you.” He turned and strode away until he melted into the shadows, leaving my stomach twisted in a knot. It was normal to have a lot of issues after a battle, but I hadn’t used that much music magic for a long time, so I wasn’t used to it. At least I wouldn’t be crying from all the dead. Not a single fatality in this battle. And that’s why this was a better place for me to be. Even if I was walking between the largest ogre and Lanise.
I hesitated at the door where the guy with white eyes looked above my head. In his extremely long career, he’d been a general, an assassin, and an ambassador who brought missives to my dad. And now he was a chauffeur?
“Thank you,” I said as I ducked in, and then had to scoot rapidly over as the enormous ogre in exercise shorts followed me in.
I sat there feeling awkward while outside the tinted windows, the other ogres struggled to attach my platform to the roof of the car.
“So, what are your favorite ogre dishes?” I asked, trying to ease some of the tension that he buzzed with. He was angry at me, probably for putting myself in danger when he and the rest of his artisans had to report back to Rook. I owed him a life-debt. I’d agreed to that, but I’d never been in any real danger, except that eventually I’d run out of magic and strength, and the shield would come down. But this was Song, and Libby’s husband was The Scholar. Eventually, he’d hear about it and send reinforcements. Maybe.
“Ogre dishes?” he growled.
“Yes. I’m going to cook for you. I will do my best, but I’m afraid that cooking isn’t really one of my talents.”
“You will cook for me when you…” He glanced at me with brows furrowed over his quite pretty blue eyes. “Eel soup for first course, live eels, then bone salad, a side of brain and yam pudding, and the main course, lamb on a spit.”
I stared at him while I tried to get over the idea of brain and yam pudding. “Bone salad?”
“Bones gives a good crunch, like you’d use croutons.”
I nodded, hanging onto my smile. “Makes sense. The bones would have to be well-dried to have a truly good crunch, though.”
His eyes crinkled as he gave me a truly terrifying smile. “And seasoned well when they’re wet.”
“Wet bones can be so difficult to process.”
“Yes.”
“Live eels in the soup? I take it it’s more of a gazpacho then, since the soup would have to be cold or the eels would cook.”
“It is a delicate dish.”
I swallowed hard. Yeah, it sounded delicate. “And do you have a preference for the kind of brains that go best with yams?”
“Purple yams.”
“Of course. You wouldn’t want orange with pink brains. It would clash horribly. So the brains don’t matter as much as the yams?”
“Fresh.”
“Of course. I’m not a complete barbarian.”
He laughed, a rumble that was the most rich and deep tone I’d ever heard. For a second I just sat there frozen while the sound went through me, shaking me from the tentative grip I had on my nerves. Attacking the goblin stronghold with nothing but my magic and Lanise had been a gamble that I’d felt I had to make, but it had still left me a wreck. I also wasn’t entirely recovered from the shrapnel that had been embedded in my body.
I gripped the leather seat and put my head on my knees.
“Music Master?” he rumbled, touching my shoulder, only for a moment, the barest brush of connection before he pulled away. He growled at someone, and the car almost immediately jerked forward.
It took a few minutes for me to get it together enough to sit upright. I looked out the window and saw that we were nearing the neighborhood that was respectable for Song, heading for the Luthier’s shop. Perfect. I needed to talk to him about this incredibly weird situation, but at the moment, I just wanted to fall into his arms and take a nice nap in his even nicer bed. With him.
The car pulled to a short stop and the enormous ogre got out immediately, closing the door behind him, walking off with the bag of loot in his hand as the car continued.
“Wait! He has…” I stopped talking, because the driver gave me a look, and I felt like if things didn’t go well, I’d end up his prisoner. He’d be worse than Lanise, and she’d been ridiculously impossible. I slumped down in my seat and spent the next few minutes working on my breathing and meditation so I’d have it all together when I finally faced Rook, if that’s where I was going and this wasn’t a different political party that I didn’t know about. I really needed to read the material on ogres that Libby had given me. I pulled out my harp and prepared a few defense runes, but my hand already throbbed from my earlier cut, and it would take some time for my magic to recover.
Happily, the car pulled up in front of the shop, and I could see through the window and past instruments, Rook behind the counter, working on something that gleamed with angelic gold. Was that my harp? He raised his head and the excitement about my harp shifted into this soul-wrenching aching to gaze into his eyes forever. Through a shop window.
I broke eye contact and wrapped my harp back up in its case, my hands trembling from the effort. My door opened and the scarred ogre with white eyes held out his hand, like he could see I needed some help. Seriously? Well, just because I knew that he was definitely one of the most notorious ogres in the world, didn’t mean I had to be rude. Also, I wasn’t sure I could get out without fumbling.
He helped me out with the care you’d expect from a master assassin, and I straightened up and gave him a nod before I headed for the front door, pushing it open with a jangle of the bell.
I stopped in the entry, glancing at the exquisite lute that Tiago would absolutely drool over. There was no price tag on it. Of course not. It was priceless. When I looked up at Rook, I kind of swallowed hard when I saw Yaga, my chicken, perched on his broad shoulder. She was so comfortable there, like she’d accepted him as my other half, even if I struggled.
I licked my lips while he watched me come closer. The goblin’s bag of loot was on the counter next to a pile of wood shavings.
“You owe me a life debt,” he growled.
You couldn’t deny that ogres had one-track minds.
Well, two could play that game. “You lied about why you wanted Lanise in my music hall. The goblin attack was the second on my life. What do I have to do with your politics if I was a target before you approached me? I’d love to think that an alliance to the Music Master could possibly be important enough to warrant two assassination attempts, but it doesn’t add up.”
He vaulted over the counter and took two steps until he was right in front of me, so I had to crane my neck to look up at him. “You could ask your father.”
I inhaled sharply and took a step away from him, but I’d lost track of the room and ended up knocking the back of my knees into the piano bench. I would have fallen on it if he didn’t snag my waist with one arm and pull me back against him.
I put my hands on his chest to push him away, but found myself sliding them up around his neck instead. My lips buzzed from the memory of the last time I’d seen him. No! I wasn’t getting lost in him when he’d just brought up my father. Absolutely not, even though his lips were so soft and his tusks so sweet and adorable.
I licked my lips because I couldn’t help myself, but I wasn’t going to kiss him. Not a chance. “What do you know about my father?”
“I have an extremely good nose for blood.” His eyes fell down to my throat when he said that.
Be still my beating heart. “Your nose is very good. Yes, no one’s going to argue that, but what does that have to do with two assassination attempts? What could you possibly have to do with protecting me from my father’s enemies? Did he hire you?” It was unfathomable that my father, commander of the HOSTs, would ever stoop to hiring ogre mercenaries, but I was running out of possibilities.
“It is a matter of politics.” He slid his hand up my back to curl around the base of my skull, the hand of an artisan with the strength of an ogre. He could crush me so easily, but instead those fingers massaged, like he knew that’s precisely where my headache was from overextending myself this evening.
“Ogre politics? That’s your story and you’re sticking to it?” I tried to resent him, but his fingers felt so good, and his mouth had the slightest smile in the corner, revealing more of his adorable tusk than usual.
“I am not working for your father. He would never hire ogres. You know this.”
“And yet…”
My words were cut off when his head bent and his lips brushed mine. Holy sweet fire rippled through me, and I grabbed him with both hands, leaning into him like a drug addict who had been resisting her fix for far too long.
He pulled back and frowned at me, his lips moist from my extreme resistance to his seduction. “You owe me a life debt.”
Ah. Ogres were tenacious. Of course, he’d come back to that. “Two of them, if the other ogre is on your payroll.”
He raised his brows in surprise. “On my payroll? You think…” He shook his head in bemusement. There was something funny about hiring the other ogre, but he was one of the stone artisans. Maybe he was hiring Rook. That was a thought.
I swallowed hard and then said, “Just as well. One life debt is enough. I was perfectly safe, and I took Lanise with me since my bodyguard, I mean assistant, would always protect me. Almost like she’s an elite bodyguard with extensive training who watches me sleep so no one can kill me while I’m at my most vulnerable.”
He took one of my hands off the back of his neck and held it horizontal to the floor so everyone could see the way that it trembled. “Perfectly safe? It’s a wonder that you didn’t burn yourself out using battle magic of those levels without a troop around you to draw upon.”
I winced. He officially knew not only who my dad was, but who I was and my whole dismal history. “How do you know me?”
“I’m Rook the Luthier. I know all the musicians that show exceptional potential.”
I would not be distracted by flattery. “Even enemies of your kind?”
“Particularly enemies of my kind. You’d be surprised how many wars I’ve averted with the timely gift of a fine instrument.”
“No, actually, that makes total sense. And you were watching me in case I became one of the leaders and could be manipulated by your incredibly skilled hands.” Hm. His incredibly skilled hand was still at the base of my skull, massaging the stress out of me. Maybe I shouldn’t have used those exact words.
“You owe me a life-debt.” His voice was so low, close, and I really, really wanted him to sing something. ‘You owe me a life-debt,’ could be his refrain.
“Um, yeah, but I wasn’t actually…”
He lowered his head and took my neck in his jaws.
I tensed up and then relaxed as he picked me up and carried me somewhere I didn’t care about because I lost consciousness from the pressure of his mouth. Not teeth, because he didn’t so much as scratch my skin, and his teeth were as sharp as you’d expect an ogre’s to be.
I expected to wake up tied to his bed with Lanise glaring at me, but instead I woke up back in the Music Hall, with Lanise glaring at me. Also, Yaga squawked as I sat up, fluttering her wings at me for being rude enough to wake her up from her peaceful night’s sleep.
The tap tap tap was distant but audible in spite of the darkness outside the window.
Lanise stood up and placed her large fists on her generous hips as she scowled at me. “You stay.”
“Tell me what you’re really doing in my hall.”
“Learn music.”
“And keep me safe. Why?”
“You want die?”
“No. You were there when the goblin asked me that. Surely you know better.”
“You stay.”
I raised my hands in defeat. “I’m just going to the bathroom and into the sitting room to get my books. Okay? Tomorrow I’m going to Song, but in the district near the Luthier’s shop, you know, to talk to some more civilized musical options.”
Her brows lowered in a scowl. “Stay.”
“I can’t stay here forever, Lanise. I’ll take a bunch of ogres with me, okay? The big one I’m making a dinner for, and the driver, the one with white eyes.”
She shook her head, no. “Magr not here. You cook for him?”
Magr was the name of the big ogre? It sounded more like a title than a name. I only smiled brightly. “Of course. Eel soup where the eels are alive? How hard can it be?”
She snorted, but she didn’t stop me from retrieving my books from the sitting room and taking them into the bathroom. I was going to take a nice long bath, so the headache I got from reading angel runes would be mitigated by the warm water.
By the time the water was cold, I knew slightly more than I had previously about the ogre society as a whole. There was a king, but he delegated most of his responsibility to various chieftains who organized the selling of armies as well as managed internal disputes in the kingdom. If the book I was reading was correct, it didn’t seem like the king actually did anything.
I didn’t find any mention of shirt taboos or the tendency to strangle people with your mouth.
I touched my neck for a moment while the memory of his breath, tongue, power made me shiver before I shook it off and got out of the tub. It was the cold water making me shiver, not the memory of Rook, of his voice, his eyes, his hands, and his mouth.
I shivered again as I hurriedly dried off, then carried the book with me to bed, wearing my nightshirt, the one with the pun.
Lanise had a plate of now slightly stale sausage rolls that I took with a smile. “Thanks. You really are an incredible musician, the way that you kept the beat steady no matter what else happened. Impressive.”
“What book?”
I glanced down at the book I had, the one in angel runes, so no ogre would be able to read it. If I had angel blood on both sides, instead of my mom’s human/elf blood, it wouldn’t give me a headache. “History.” I opened the book to a random page and frowned down at it until I could make out the meaning in it.
Ogre Courtship as a whole seems to be based entirely on scent. Once a male compliments a female’s scent, they seem to continue with the other courtship traditions, which vary depending on the various tribes, until they are mated. There are many different traditions, such as in the tribe of the Alabaz, where they must make each other clothing from skins of creatures they personally captured, or the tribe of Milza where the female dresses herself in the male’s clothing, or the tribe of Hirtox which I find most interesting, where the male creates his heart song, and the female plays it for him. Courtship for ogres is rare, since many ogres breed without anything as civilized as marriage, but once they are mated, it is for life, and it only happens once.
I dropped the book on my lap and looked up at Lanise, my head spinning like a top. “History of music in marriage traditions. What are ogre wedding traditions?” Is that what he’d thought I was doing when I’d put on his shirt, that I was trying to court him? What about the neck thing? Was that another courtship tradition from another, very obscure tribe I didn’t know about, but Rook did? What tribe was he from? Did he create a heart song? Was that what I’d played?
No, I’d played the most elaborate, obscure, complicated elven song I knew. Elven, not ogre. But when he’d sung it, I’d felt like it was him, from his heart, and even now, the melody rippled under my skin like the tide, pulling me out to sea, where I would drown helplessly in the waves of love.
Her eyes narrowed. “Rest now. Read bad for eyes.” She shut off the light and left me blinking in the dark while my heart beat too fast and that song echoed in my chest in time to the pulse in my neck where he’d caught me in his jaws like he’d never let me go.