Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
T he next few days passed in a rush of rehearsals as citizens from Sing and Song showed up to represent. Tiago, genius devious elf that he was, had managed to infer that it was a challenge between who was better, Sing, or Song, and since I had ogres and goblins in my lineup, local elves and fairies took the challenge personally. And then there were the local businesses who wanted booths at the festival. I should have started planning this six months ago. I needed to call the city about restroom facilities, as well as the sun shade for the vampires.
Apparently, the mayor was also getting calls, because he sent a city man to come and bother me about it a week after my archangel visitation. I felt like my whole life had restarted from that dreadful day, and now I was caught in this limbo of uncertainty. Happily, I had fifty million things to worry about, so I didn’t have time to dwell on the questions, who I was, and who wanted me dead.
“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” I said, sweeping into the small classroom where Tiago had directed the mayor’s man, an elf with an air of calm serenity.
He stood and smiled at me demurely. “Not at all. You’re very busy, so I won’t keep you for long. It seems you have ignored the many summons the mayor has given you.”
“He’s not my king. You can’t summon someone in this city unless you have a circle of virgins. All the same, I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been puzzling over the location. The park is lovely, and having meandering paths between musical events sounds charming, but the logistics just don’t work. We don’t have that many platforms, the audience is scattered, so fewer people will be able to appreciate fewer events. It does work for the booths, but this is a musical event, or the mayor wouldn’t have asked me to take charge of it.”
He cleared his throat. “That is an excellent point, Music Master. You have indeed taken charge of this event in ways the mayor never foresaw. I believe I heard a werewolf troupe in the hall outside. Remarkable that you have them eating from your hand, but surely they prove a liability in a crowd of tourists. If you had fewer musicians, you wouldn’t need so many platforms. There are always natural limitations to the space and time that can be given to any one group.”
I stared at him. He was here to cut all the musicians from Song. I smiled and leaned back. “The stadium would be the best option, to open up the space and time limitations. With four smaller stages and one large one, we could have a much better chance of serving the musicians and tourists. There are already booths built in on each level, so that will cut down on the traffic down on the floor.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Bringing inhabitants of Song up to mingle in throngs of tourists is a huge liability. The mayor’s office cannot be responsible for it.”
“Is the mayor’s office responsible for anything? I suppose it would be safer for infernal creatures to play their pieces in the mayor’s office instead of in the ridiculously overpriced stadium that the tax payers paid for when no major sports teams are in Singsong City. Song pays taxes. Were you aware of that? Every single shop I visited, and it was most of them, charge tax, which goes directly to the city, which does so little to maintain Song, but it can build parks and stadiums in Sing that they aren’t allowed to use.”
His smile was meant to be calming. “Music Master, I think you’ll see that Song’s inhabitants would prefer their own jubilee in the darkness where they don’t have to fear the bite of the sun. You’re putting them in danger, as well as the tourists.” This guy was incredibly stubborn and clever.
The door opened and Driver came in, handed me a note and then turned as if to go. He stopped, sniffed twice, then leaned over the elf in his chair and roared, right in his face.
The elf gasped and sputtered while he wiped his face, trying to get ogre saliva off it, while Driver turned to me, bowed, and then exited the room, leaving me blinking after him, wondering what in the world that had been. Was he going mad? Was this arrogant elf right that I was putting all the tourists in danger?
The elf was up out of his chair, brushing off his suit and face while I sat there, frowning because the note he’d given me was list of groceries we needed to get along with words at the top, “Bones dried good.”
“And you want to expose the world to that?!” the elf burst out, finally shaken.
I straightened up. “Yes. You make an excellent point. In spite of the possible danger, having ogres to maintain crowd control will prove once and for all that Singsong city is indeed a haven for tourists. Seeing the undercity in its most civilized clothing, no one will be able to say that Singsong isn’t entirely noble and great, not in spite of its diversity, but because of it.”
“You can’t say that ogres aren’t the most dangerous of them all!”
“What I’m hearing is that the elves are feeling insecure in their abilities to hold their own against the infernal creatures. Perhaps you should encourage them to practice more and complain less. You may inform your mayor that I plan to set up in the stadium. If he has any further concerns, he’s welcome to personally come and speak to me about them.” I stood up. This interview was over. Apparently, the bones were dried, and it was time to go shopping.
On my first day back from my archangel visitation, I’d spent hours in the kitchen of the music hall with Driver, seasoning bones. It had been mostly a blur, but it had been therapeutic to mix spices while the steam from the boiling bones made my hair curl like crazy. After another week feeling like all of me was insane, running from music emergency to musical disaster, it was time to make dinner for Magr, who was at least a chieftain, but I was putting my money on him being the prince heir, if Gavriel’s intel was any good. First, I had to go shopping.
Driver and Lanise came with me to the dock market outside the city walls, along the riverfront. It wasn’t the nice dock market, if there was one of those. First, it was at night, and there must have been some tunnel into Song, because it was almost entirely populated by undercity occupants. Second, there were small craft pulled up to the dock, with various goods that weren’t necessarily legal.
“Are those lan pods?” I whispered to Driver, as we walked passed a particularly sketchy looking guy who wore a broad straw hat to cover his face even though he was already in the shadows, like he carried them with him.
“Sphinx not allow harder drugs. Lan pods weak.”
I shot Driver a look. “Sphinx?”
“Song’s Law.”
“That’s so comforting to know that Song has law. So, where are the live eels?” In my experience as a travelling musician, lan pods were extremely dangerous, but mostly to the lighter side of the coin. An opportunistic human had tried to drug me with lan pods, but it hadn’t worked as well as he’d expected. Almost like I had ogre blood in my veins. I shook my head and hurried after Driver. I wasn’t thinking about that right now.
The eels were at the end of the cement dock, past a floating boat filled with a variety of parasols that a vampire was trying to buy, after ensuring that they were indeed sunproof. That was an idea that might help some of the undercity residents deal with uncomfortable light levels.
“Pick,” Driver said, nodding down into the boat with its various tanks of freaky looking sea creatures.
“Which ones are eels?” I asked the vendor, who smiled at me, showing fangs. A vampire.
“The ones with teeth like a goblin,” she said with a sharp smile.
“Ah.” I bent down to peer into a large glass box and the creature inside shimmered as bright lines of electric blue went down its back. “Ooh. That’s pretty.”
“Electric eels are more expensive, but it’s worth it for the show. What do you need an eel for?”
“Eel soup.”
“I wouldn’t waste an electric eel if you’re just going to cook it.”
“No, it has to be alive in the soup. It’s for an ogre, not me.” Although who knows? Maybe I’d like live eel soup.
“Ah. In that case, take the electric eel. It will put on a better show, but make sure you serve it in dim light, or the effect will be spoiled.”
“Thanks. How much do I owe you?”
She said a very high sum and took the credit card out of my fingers before I could change my mind. I’d thought she’d require gold, because this whole setup, the night market, was very nightmare, scary fairytale, but apparently, they still took credit.
“Enjoy,” she said, hefting up the eel box and handing it up to Driver who had spent our exchange watching for signs of danger. He handed the box to Lanise, who took it without comment. I struggled to climb out of the boat and back onto the dock. I was tired. I hadn’t slept well for a week, and it was two in the morning. Finally, Driver grabbed my hand and pulled me up.
“Thanks,” I said, and wrapped my black robe tighter over the elven light armor.
“Now brains.”
“Don’t forget the purple yams.”
He smiled, showing his broken tusk. “Not forget.”
After we’d gotten brains, yams, and a variety of other strange vegetables as well as the side of lamb, and were on our way back from the dock, I spied a flash of platinum in my periphery, in a small boat that looked a little faster than the others, sleek, like it could get away quickly if necessary.
I’d had various jewelry when I ran away from my dad, because my elven blood brought enspelled objects to life. Elves wore a lot of jewelry as a race, and I’d worn my mother’s jewelry as a matter of course. I’d had to sell off everything I’d taken with me, piece by piece, except for my favorite bracelet. That was stolen. It had been such an excellent bracelet, with a spell of strength and focus that I definitely could have used as Music Master.
“You have elven jewelry?” I asked, crouching down on the dock’s edge so I could peer into the box that I’d seen the flash of silver from.
“You have a keen eye,” the man said with a charming smile, showing serrated teeth. Goblin.
I smiled back at him. “Do you sing?”
For a beat, his smile was frozen before he inhaled sharply, as sharp as those teeth. “You’re the music master. I have avoided recruitment so far.”
His voice was more than passable, a persuasive voice, which is no doubt why he was here, selling elven jewelry he’d gotten from stealing, or grave robbing, most likely. “I’ll take the entire lot.” I held out my card, but he hesitated.
“I didn’t tell you the price.”
“I’m sure the deal will be reasonable.”
“How are you so sure?”
I smiled at him. “If I have to find you because the price was not reasonable, we’ll have our first rehearsal then.”
He pursed his lips in thought. “What would you consider reasonable?”
“Stolen goods are always much less valuable than legal ones.”
His eyes narrowed. “You drive a mean bargain.”
“It’s the elf in me.”
“I would have pegged you for an angel.”
“Angels can be the most brutal of them all.”
His eyes widened, and he ran the card, for a price that wasn’t nearly as high as I expected. He really had given me a reasonable bargain, and then handed up the box with a smile. “You’re truly getting the Goblin Authority to sing?”
“Truly. One way or another.”
“You have a great deal of courage.”
Or stupidity, but I only smiled, took my box, and turned to rejoin Driver and Lanise.
“No spells on them,” Driver said, when he saw what I was carrying.
“I know. The spells could be tracked. They strip them first thing.”
“You like pretty?”
“I like to return things that were stolen. Someone who’s missing their mother’s bracelet would be very happy to get it back.”
He was quiet for a moment before he murmured. “Ah. I forgot you angel. Honor expensive.”
“Yes, honor is expensive, but it can buy peace of mind, which is priceless.”
“You sleep well now?”
Lanise made a disgusted sound. “Sleep better when catch killer.” She patted my shoulder. “We find soon.”
I tucked the box of jewelry tighter to my chest, the cardboard pressing into my collarbone while the cold night air sent a chill through me. It would be so easy for something terrifying to come out of those waters and pull me under.
Driver stepped around me so he was on the outside, with Lanise on my opposite. It’s like he could hear what I was thinking, and wanted to reassure me even if the logical attack would come from the dock side.
Soon enough, I was tucked in the back seat with Lanise, Driver at the wheel, the box of pretty jewelry on my lap.
The kitchen was in the basement of the music hall, and it hadn’t been updated for centuries. At least it felt like it. We started first thing in the morning, with the soup, which you had to make before you cooled the water enough and put the eels in. The eels were only two feet long, so the pot was this massive cauldron that I could easily have climbed into. While I cooked, I sang, mixing this, stirring that, and all of them the most subtle setting up imaginable.
I wasn’t only cooking for Magr, I was spelling him. Subtlety wasn’t exactly my natural state of being, so it would take some effort, but to finally drag some answers out of him, it would be worth it.
The brain yam pudding was by far the most disgusting, but I tried not to really process what it was I was chopping up. Driver’s directions were very brief, as you’d expect, but clearly knowledgeable, so everything got on the heat and then off again before it burned. The scent of lamb roasting brought countless musicians in to see what was going on, but Lanise was the guard, so no one got through. Whew. Good thing I had her to protect me from the real dangers. Actually, the greatest challenge was Yaga. She kept poufing into the kitchen and start scratching in the brains, or the salad, and however barbaric ogres were, they didn’t want chicken droppings in their food.
It took all day, moving from one dish to the next, spelling with each stir, but finally, the eel was ready to go in the broth, and then all the dishes were carried up the stairs to be set outside my bedroom, on the roof balcony, which had a shield on it, for privacy as well as safety.
I sat in a chair in front of the blue yam and brain pudding playing my harp with the evening sky edging towards orange and pink when Magr climbed over the side of the hall, landing without the slightest thump on the stone deck, his enormous figure a shock, because I hadn’t seen him for a week. Any time I’d seen him in my periphery, I turned around. Why had I been avoiding him? I hadn’t been avoiding him as much as I had things to do, and he had things to do, because he had to direct the ogres that worked on my hall, more coming every day.
The musicians should have been terrified, but it’s hard to really freak out about ogres when they’re repairing walls and roofs and completely ignoring everyone else.
Magr studied the beautiful dinner before his eyes met mine. My fingers slipped off the harp, because his eyes were so incredibly knowing. It’s like he knew exactly the spells I’d put on dinner, exactly what song I was playing and its origins, as well as how sick I was of wearing elven light armor. And he knew who I was, and what I was.
He slowly settled down in the specially reinforced chair I’d brought for the occasion, then nodded at my harp. “Salida’s dirge? Is that really appropriate?”
And here he was, proving my point. It was an elven tune, not as obscure as the one I’d played for Rook, but still. “As appropriate as you knowing the piece. Do you play?”
He hesitated before he gave a short nod. “I play a little. Do you intend to play while I eat? That’s not very companionable.”
“You think I’d enjoy bone salad? I’d break my pretty little teeth.”
He flashed a smile that showed his enormous tusks. “How convenient that I arranged for your pretty little teeth’s well-being.”
The next moment, three ogres swung over the side of the building, carrying bags that they unloaded on the already full table, all the things I liked, including healthy options like salad, and mashed yams without the brains, but best of all and most impossible to resist, sushi.
I gasped when an ogre pulled the sushi boat out of the bag and set it next to the cauldron of live eel soup. I frowned at Magr. It would be a lot harder to cast spells while I was distracted by sushi, but like I could resist.
“You didn’t have to do this,” I finally said to Magr, frowning at the enormous ogre, who had watched me watch the unloading with an intensity they usually saved for sharpening weapons. Well, I was kind of a weapon in his arsenal of propaganda.
He bared his teeth in a smile. “It is my pleasure.” His voice rumbled, low and melodic. Was that amusement? It felt like seduction, but like I’d ever been seduced by anything other than music. I wasn’t about to start now. Although the sushi was so pretty.
“Please, eat,” I said, gesturing at the table.
“For your thanks, for my saving your life? Or to enspell me?” He sniffed deeply at the bone salad in front of him while my skin went cold and I felt like I was going to snap. “It is a very subtle spell. Excellent work.”
I scowled at him as the fear morphed into irrational anger. “Thank you. What can I say? I was inspired by the fact that you’ve never told me anything, but you have how many of your people working in my hall? What is your plan? Some have asked if you’re intending to take Singsong City by force.”
“My plan? That’s what you want to know?”
I gripped my harp too hard, and I worried for a moment that the wood would crack. I put it down on the ground and leaned my elbows on the table while I glared at him. “Among other things.”
He took the large serving fork, stabbed it into the salad bowl that I usually used for popcorn, and took an enormous bite. Bones crunched, teeth snapped, and then he took another bite, eating steadily until the bowl was empty, and then he reached for the brain yam pudding.
“Are you crazy? You can’t eat food that you know is enspelled.”
He smiled at me and raised the serving spoon that he’d no doubt use as effectively to demolish the brain yam pudding as he had the bone salad. “I wouldn’t want to diminish your efforts.”
“So you think you can resist my spelling.” That was possible.
“Or I am willing to disclose anything you wish to know. Truth can be a burden, but they say it can also set you free.” He took an enormous bite of the purple yams and brain.
My heart beat faster in my chest as I watched him. He was talking about the ogre thing. Of course he was. Was I ready to ask him if I really was an ogre, and if he’d used me as propaganda, and who was trying to kill me?
I opened my mouth, because the truth spells should be sinking into him. “I…” I closed my eyes and then opened them, gripping a fork. I wasn’t a coward, and I needed to know what was going on and what my role was in this whole mess. If I was an ogre, fine. I’d deal with it, even if it changed absolutely everything about what I thought about myself and everyone else.
“Tell me, are you the prince heir?”
His smile was one of delight, like I’d thought of a question he hadn’t considered. He gave me a regal nod, then put the last spoonful of yams in his mouth. He ate really, really fast.
“That’s a yes?”
“Yes. I am the prince heir. You’ve been doing research. It’s not common knowledge that there is a prince heir.”
“Have you been using me as propaganda ever since your ogres kidnapped me when I was five?”
“Yes.” He pulled out a long knife and cut a sliver of meat off the lamb. “Would you like some? You haven’t eaten anything. You’re worried that I spelled it? I did not. Please, eat, Mirabel.” The way he said my name was so weird, like a growling caress. Did he try to seduce all of his pieces of propaganda? Rook must be his best one, so hopefully not. Thinking about the luthier made my stomach ache.
“I’m too stressed out to eat. Also, I’ll get distracted by the sushi and lose my spelling. I’m not good at subtle spells.”
“That’s the angel in you,” he said with another smile. His gleaming eyes showed me what he thought about my angel. That she was edible, but I wasn’t. I was toxic to him.
I shook my head. I was definitely misreading things if I thought some prince heir was hitting on me. “You admit that I’m a piece of your propaganda. Do you really think that I’m…” I grabbed a sushi roll, stuffed it in my mouth, chewed, swallowed, then blurted out, “An ogre?” before I could change my mind.
He blinked at me and held out a piece of lamb speared on the end of his knife. “No. You are part ogre. When you were five, do you remember them taking your tusks out? Driver put you to sleep, but your mouth ached for days afterwards. Do you not remember the spelling he cut into you?”
I swallowed hard. “Driver took my tusks?”
“Of course. Your father is absolutely weak when it comes to his Miracle. Driver is never weak.”
“You were there. You told him to do it?”
“No. I am also weak when it comes to Miracle. All children, actually. That’s why I’d make a terrible chieftain. I wouldn’t be able to throw the sickly ogre babies out on the mountain for the wolves to devour so that our tribes could grow strong.” There was something about the way he said that, not like he was too weak, but that the entire idea was beyond revolting, absolutely unacceptable. And he was going to change it.
“Did you save Rook when you saw him? How small he was?”
He laughed, a rumbling avalanche that went through me, sweeping away my thoughts for as long as it lasted. “Ah, sweet Mirabel, you’ve enspelled me so you will have truth you didn’t want. I am Rook the Luthier.”