Chapter 20
Chapter
Twenty
T he mayor’s box looked over the main stage very nicely. The room was catered, and the mayor was explaining through gestures that exuded grace and sparkles that the last night’s performance was an expression of the joy and freedom that all the citizens felt just by being part of our wonderful city.
“We are safe, with the finest guards, to make sure everyone’s comfortable,” he said to an elven girl who looked down her nose at him and his sparkly aqua wings. She looked familiar. Had she been at the mayor’s hall the first time I’d made the stupid mistake of trying to get funding from him?
“Only some people are comfortable around ogres,” she said stiffly. Not her, oh no, because she was a classy elf girl.
“Princess Tarilee, whatever you think about ogres, you must admit that they have been exceptional bodyguards with a focus and determination second to none. When I determined that we needed a task force to ensure the safety of everyone at my Jubilee, I decided to spare no expense and hired the finest ogre guards that money can buy.”
Ooh, a princess. No wonder her nose was so long and elegant, and she was so talented at looking down her nose even at fairies who floated slightly above eye level. She glanced at another elf, a male who was all silvery and pale green, pale hair, pale eyes, like a waterfall in spring.
“As if the mayor’s budget existed before you got that Rook fellow to sponsor,” Delphi, the reporter, murmured in my ear. She was supposed to have elf blood, but she didn’t look down her nose at anyone. She was rare indeed.
I shot her a smile. “No idea what you’re talking about.” I started edging towards the door. I needed to get back out on the floor. I somehow didn’t see the tall silvery green elf until I’d stepped on his slippers. His goblet of elixir spilled on both of us while I stood there with a smile pasted on my face.
“So sorry,” I said, offering him a bow and attempting to clean up. “You must excuse me. I’m just so impatient to get back to work. Being Singsong’s music master is a thankless job. The coffers are never deep and hungry musicians never sleep. I don’t suppose you’d be interested in donating to a truly noble cause, such as music.”
His brow rose, which was a lot of expression for some elf. “Are you shaking me down for money? What do you offer in return?” Interesting. Usually elves were much more delicate about tacky things, like discussing money.
“How about a commemorative bench right in the back courtyard?” I was never delicate about money, not when it came to my hall.
“A commemorative bench. Hm. Would it have my name on it?”
“Of course! And whatever design goes with your house. No expense spared for our donors.”
“Hm. I will consider it. Your concert last night was…disconcerting.”
“Oh. Thank you,” I said, holding onto my smile. That probably meant there would be no donation from the foreign elves. Oh well. It was worth a shot.
“The music of Luthiel Slandriil is always disconcerting. You played it with a particular level of emotional imbalance that leant itself to the piece.” Now he was speaking heresy.
I frowned at him. “You don’t like Luthiel Slandriil? Say what you like about my performance, but the composer is a genius. The first time I heard it was by the Fairfold choir for the spring equinox concert. I will never forget the beauty of that moment, of the way the composer captured the essence of bursting, blooming, riotous spring, and how those musicians did it justice.”
Both of his brows rose. “Indeed? You must have some elven blood.”
I shifted before I raised my chin. Elves could be so elitist about diluted blood. “A quarter.”
“Fairfold choir works with the HOST’s, does it not? That explains your angelic blood.”
“Not a lot explains my angelic blood. It just is, like your blood, I guess. If you’ll excuse me, I have to get out on the floor to help mitigate any disasters.” Talking with some old, rich elf guy about my blood was not on my list of fun things to do in the mayor’s private box.
I’d no sooner started edging around him when the princess gasped elegantly, and the mayor said, “What in the world…” before cutting off.
I turned to see enormous creatures jogging into the stadium, easily twelve feet high, two dozen of these horned, green-gray monsters with hands the size of melons. They were followed by another monster, enormous fur swathed over her enormous body, fourteen, fifteen feet tall, and so fast for her size.
“What are trolls doing here?” the tall elf guy asked, sounding bemused.
“Where Magr?” the big troll roared, while I stared at her, still not registering her hugeness, her absolutely impossible size combined with her speed. Was she spelled? “Give me or eat all!” She opened her mouth to show her truly traumatizing dental hygiene, or lack thereof.
I stood there, frozen in place for another moment, before I moved, grabbing my harp and running out the private box and down the hall to the stairs. I went down two flights, and then I was about level with her head.
I plucked a chord that demanded attention, and she was not immune. She swung her massive head towards me, flanked by at least two dozen of the monsters. They could seriously destroy Singsong City. Each of them was like a tank, and she was a battleship.
“Welcome to the Jubilee. I’m Mirabel, Singsong City’s Music Master. You’re here for Magr? He’s the sponsor for this year’s festival. It would be inconvenient if you took him away at this time.” My voice rang, as loud as hers, and fifty times more pleasant. What in the world was I doing? She was so huge, and so incredibly vile. Everything about her aura stank of evil.
“Inconvenient?” Her growl sent goosebumps rippling over my skin, but I stayed where I was, even as she trotted over to me until she was ten feet away, within reach of her massive, long arms.
“Unless you’d like to participate in the Jubilee.”
“You want trolls sing for you?” Every word was an assault of sound that was made to hurt.
I swallowed hard because my mouth was so dry. Still, the words came out strong. “I want you to perform in a friendly little duel. I, Mirabel, the Music Master of Singsong City, challenge you, Garnagth the mountain troll, to a battle for the ogre you seek.”
She stared at me for a long moment, then started laughing. The sound was going to break my hearing and give me nightmares for the rest of my life. “You fight me?”
The other trolls joined her in raucous laughter that was truly the worst thing I’d ever heard.
I plucked another strand of chords, and they cut off, leaving nothing but silence and one slight rumble that I’d recognize anywhere. No one else rumbled so sweetly. I wasn’t going to look at Rook or I’d start hyperventilating.
“That’s right. I’ll fight you if you have the courage to accept my challenge. Tomorrow afternoon, at five o’clock, right before the final concert.” I’d been wondering what I could fill that time slot up with. Now I had something. Was I actually doing this? Was I insane? Clearly. Hold on, did I even want to be betrothed to Rook? I was busy with the music hall, but at the same time, no one else was allowed to have him.
She laughed again and then gave me a mocking bow. “You die soon.” Her breath hit my face with the force of a thousand rotting fish.
“Same to you.” I bowed back, and then with another growl at the surrounding ogres who were trying to form a containment line, they whirled around and left me standing there on suddenly shaky knees.
It was so quiet as everyone stared at me. Was this some marketing ploy? No, those had been real trolls.
I cleared my throat and summoned a smile. “And now for one of my favorite musical troupes, the werewolves of Song.” I gestured at the large stage where the werewolves had stopped setting up to watch the train wreck.
Gavriel nodded at me and with a few words, had the werewolves belting out the first few bars of their piece. I was standing there, clinging to the rail, trying not to spiral into complete and utter panic when the Goblin Authority took his place to my right, like that was normal.
“She has your scent, so you can’t run,” he said conversationally. “You have no idea the mess you’ve just stepped in.”
“Thank you. I have no intention of running.” Because my knees were too shaky.
“Of course not. I forgot how foolishly brave you are. If you’re willing to attack a goblin fortress, why not challenge a mountain troll?”
“She came to my Jubilee. What else was I supposed to do?” The logical thing would be to let her take Rook. They had an agreement, and even if he’d been only a baby at the time, it was still binding.
The Goblin Authority rumbled, “Indeed. Her eyes are her most vulnerable points. Her armpits are her second most vulnerable, at least as far as skin is concerned, but you’d have to get through the ribs to get to her heart. It’s so large, it would take a great deal of damage to shut it down. Poisoned blades won’t do anything. She’s as poisonous as anything else you could use. Be certain to not get her blood on you, should you manage to get her to bleed. It’s not just skin contact, it’s vaporous, and you have to be sure not to inhale it.”
I turned to stare at him. “I didn’t know that. Thank you.” Was he actually being useful? The world was coming to an end.
His eyes gleamed from behind his mask. “If, by some miracle, you are able to defeat her, everyone would be pleased. Except for the trolls, but that’s hardly a surprise. I hope that you have a very good plan, and very good armor. You’re going to need it.”
That was encouraging. Once the audience was focused on the werewolf instead of me, I turned to find Lanise near the doorway, studying me with a frown.
“Where’s Rook?” I asked.
“Gone.”
“Gone?” My heart beat faster. Had he abandoned me because he didn’t see the point of waiting around to see whether or not I died?
“Not want watch die. Blame self, you dead.”
I frowned at her and then marched briskly past her. “How convenient. I’d hate for him to distract me in my last living moments as I prepare for the duel.”
“Duel?” she snorted, loud and annoyed. “Dinner. Vampire here, want see you.”
“A vampire?”
Out of the shadows, the tall, dark, terrifying vampire took shape, coming forward to hand me a stack of books and parchments, along with a few very interesting scrolls. Ah, The Scholar.
He cleared his throat. “Libby mentioned that you should start with the scroll. It, er, wants you to read it.”
“Oh. Thank you. And thanks again for the grant you gave to the music hall. Support from you and members of the community like you is why we can have such a remarkable program as this.” I gestured at the werewolves who were doing some jazz/punk thing. Hopefully, he enjoyed weird music.
“Think nothing of it. Best of luck with your duel tomorrow.”
“Yes, thank you. I’d better get busy,” I said, nodding down to the stack in my arms.
He nodded and then disappeared back into shadows.
“Read? Now?” Lanise demanded, clearly shocked that anyone would want to spend their last day doing something that horrifying.
“Music spells, Lanise. If I’m going to win, I’m going to need to use my magic to do it.”
“Magic? You?”
I scowled at her. “Thank you for the vote of confidence. I’m going to be in a nice glass booth studying. If you could find my brother and bring him to me, that would be helpful.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You want fight?”
“I want Rook.” I blinked at her. Did I? I’d better if I was willing to fight a mountain troll for him. How stupid of me. “I will fight for him.” And then I’d have to marry him. Oh well. It was inevitable ever since I found out that he was Rook the Luthier.
She shook her head. “Get pretty. Learn magic. Not die.”
“Yes, get my pretty brother while I study. I will make not dying my highest priority.”
The scroll that wanted me to read it was an old, crumbling love song. I learned it quickly, before I moved onto the next book. It was too much theory without anything immediately practical, although I’d definitely be reading it after I didn’t die. If I didn’t die.
The next book had some theory, but more applicable elven music magic that I searched until I found an armor spell that looked promising. I started learning it, but it was so different, so cold, so elvish . I was a quarter elven, but that wasn’t enough to really use their magic full-out. I knew that, which is why I’d adapted those old simple music spells so they’d work for me.
Had Rook really left me? Now? Didn’t he trust me at all? At least I could use his support while I tried to get my head around these weird elven texts. He could sing with me, but no, because he had to run away. Runner-From-Women really would be his name once he’d become King.
My brother came in while I was neck deep in armor spells, trying to take it apart and put it together in a way that would work for me.
“Lanise, your intern said you wanted me?” he asked, lounging on a chair and taking a big bite out of an apple that was there, waiting to be eaten.
“Intern? That’s funny. Yes. Do you happen to have any weapons or armor handy that I could use?”
“You mean in your suicidal duel tomorrow? Can’t say that I do.” He smiled and took another big bite of apple.
“Oh.”
He didn’t seem worried. Why was that? I could ask him, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. I glanced at Lanise. “Lanise, will you please go ask the silvery green elf if he could help me translate some old music texts on magic theory? He seemed to be really old and knowledgeable.”
She frowned at me. “He refuse.”
“Not if you’re persuasive. Who could possibly refuse you?” Of course he’d refuse. He probably wouldn’t even acknowledge her question enough to refuse. But I wanted to have a conversation with Rich in private.
She grunted and left me alone with Richard, my older brother, who was a lion, terrifyingly fierce and vicious in spite of that relaxed way he was lounging on that seat eating an apple.
“Do you have any advice for defeating the troll?”
“Sure. Draw her into the center of the stadium, then kill her like you did that contingent of merc troops the last time you played as a harp. You can control the perimeter, right?”
I stared at him while my heart beat harder and my stomach started roiling. I sat down and pulled up my knees, wrapping my arms around myself. “What?”
He stared at me levelly. “You wipe her out. You have the capacity for great destruction. Hope, my dearest mother, only dearest because I have no other mother, told me all about it, your genius, the way you saved your entire platoon by single-handedly destroying the opposition, killing thousands with nothing but your harp and your voice. Do you not remember? I know you collapsed, had to be carried off the field, had some convulsions, and some of your associates were concerned that you were being possessed. It’s not ideal, because it did almost kill you, but I don’t see any other options. It would be better if you’d ordered the duel in the middle of the night, so there were more Song inhabitants and fewer of Sing, in case you lose control and wipe out a larger group than you intend.”
Memories rose up of the dead, their ghosts whispering and screaming, countless souls that had ripped me apart until I was brought to my dad, and he did something that sent them to the other side and kept me here. I hadn’t gone back to the HARPS after that, even though he was right about Hope sending me countless messages that my dad had started blocking.
“You think I should wipe them out? Do you know how large an area was affected? I asked, and dad had them map it out. Miles. I killed for miles around our little safe bubble. I’d destroy the entire city, Rich. It’s not an option.”
He grinned. “Then you’re toast, or rather, you’ll be on her toast as a nice minced paté.”
“Seriously, Rich? That’s the only advice you have for me? How would you destroy her?”
“Me? I’d have my beautiful Pegasus, as well as my wings, so I’d stay out of her range while I blasted her with Electro.”
“Do you have Electro with you?” I asked eagerly. His sword was incredibly powerful, like shooting lightning bolts, only more.
“Yes, but you know how much he dislikes women in general, and you in particular. Even if you were cleansed and purified in preparation to receive the weapon, he’d still jolt you bad enough to knock you unconscious. That’s an idea. If you’re that determined not to destroy Singsong City, if you were unconscious, no one could be upset that you missed the duel.”
“You are absolutely no help.”
“Thanks, I try. Why did you leave HARPs? It clearly wasn’t because you were tired of war and wanted to get married, like you publicly announced.”
“I left because I was tired of war and wanted to play music.”
“Ah. You do realize that if you were married, you could play all the music you liked.”
“As long as it was angel standard.”
“Like I’d let you marry someone who wasn’t open-minded. You’re part ogre. That means he’d have to be okay with that.”
“Name one lion who would be okay with marrying a part-ogre.”
He frowned at me. “I don’t know exactly, because it’s not like I go around advertising the fact that my sister’s an ogre, but there are several lions who are much more open-minded than dad would like.”
“Angel whores?”
He grinned. “Well, they can’t all be as perfectly perfect as me. Seriously, Mira, you can still come home, forget about this business, and go on with your life. You could stay with dad, be his nurse in his old age.”
I stared at him. “That’s your advice, annihilate the whole city, or go running back home to hide behind dad?”
He shrugged and stood. “I’m jealous. Dad would never let me duel anything as interesting as a mountain troll.”
“Because you’re notorious for collateral damage.”
His smile was seriously diabolical. “It’s not fun if no buildings fall down. I’d better get back to the concert. I have about fifty females vying for my attention.”
“At least. Have fun stunning them with your untouchable charm.”
“I don’t suppose you know of any vampire brothels.”
I gave him a flat look. “Seriously?”
He threw up his hands. “You’re facing imminent death, Mira. It’s stressing me out. You know that nothing relaxes me nearly as well as being blood-sucked by a vampire.”
“I think half of your enjoyment is that you’re poisoning them.”
That diabolical smile of his. “At least half.” He grabbed my shoulders and pressed a hard kiss to my forehead before he pulled away and studied me thoughtfully. “You have options. You don’t owe anyone anything. Make your own choice and be fierce as you defend it. If you really want some ogre, be bold about it. There’s no shame in what you are.”
“Which is why you haven’t told anyone.”
“Exactly. It’s not my secret. It wasn’t yours either. It was dad’s, and you know that I will protect him until my dying breath. And you.”
“You’ll protect me from the mountain troll?”
He patted my head and started for the door. “I wouldn’t dream of taking away your fun.”
“Destroying Singsong City isn’t an option.”
He hesitated at the door and winked at me. “Mass destruction is always an option.” And with that, he left me alone to scowl out the glass box. It was as much of an option as going to war with the trolls and the successive massive casualties. At least in a war, those involved had some choice in the matter. Except that trolls devoured everything in their path, if the stories I’d heard about them were true. There were no civilians, only prey when they went to war.
I rubbed my forehead. At least Rich didn’t seem very worried. Then again, he tended to get more relaxed and confident the more dire the odds. It was a good trait for a commander to have. If you were marching to your death, may as well go with confidence. That’s right. If I was going to my death, I would do it with confidence. I turned to the spell on elven armor with renewed focus. There was hope. There was always hope.