Chapter 24
Chapter
Twenty-Four
H aving Gavriel wash my hair was basically the most hilarious trauma I’d ever experienced. Rook would have made it something I’d never forget, but Gavriel looked like a cat that had gotten wet, his hair on end as he touched the wet, soapy mess.
“Do goblins melt when they get wet?” I asked, leaning over the basin on the kitchen table. My arm was still bandaged, so I couldn’t get it wet, and my head had started to itch horribly.
“No.”
“Angels?”
“Do you not find it uncomfortable to bathe with another person when you are married?”
I flicked some water at him. He flinched when it landed on his shirt. “It’s not as uncomfortable as my itchy head. I should get some of that new-fangled dry shampoo. Seriously, do goblins not like water?”
He shot me a dark look that went with his frazzled one. In the last few days, since I’d taken the armored angelic train from Angel City to Singsong, it had become glaringly obvious what a bad match the two of us would have made. It was a good therapy for me, to compare him to Rook and find all the ways we didn’t match up.
“I’m not a goblin,” he said stiffly.
That was technically true, because he was also an angel, archangel, the dark brooding kind I’d found so attractive when I was fifteen.
“Who says I’m talking about you? If I took a spray bottle with me the next time I assault the Goblin fortress, would that be more effective than my use of music?”
“You are mad.” He glared at my head, where he was gingerly patting the shampoo.
“That wasn’t a no.”
He pursed his lips and continued with his recalcitrant shampoo job. “Angels should keep their hair short.”
“Which is why I make such a terrible angel.”
The kitchen door creaked open and Gavriel leapt away from me, like he’d been caught doing something that went against his moral code. Tiago peered in, looking frankly miserable.
“Tiago!” I dunked my head quickly shaking out the suds as well as I could with one hand before I swung my head and hair out, spraying the room in general and Gavriel in particular before I rushed over to Tiago before he could run away. The music hall had been incredibly quiet ever since I got back yesterday. Without the ogres and their constant tap tapping on the walls as well as distant musicians always playing, it was slightly eerie. I’d made sure to put up all the wards around the place, but that elven arrow had gone right through them.
“Mirabel, or is it Miracle?” His pained expression increased by twenty percent.
“Oh, I’m no miracle. I’m the same person you’ve always known. Thank you so much for contacting the elven authorities about the elven assassin.”
His eyes widened and he shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really?” I gave him a sharp look then shrugged. “If you say so. You’ve always been the best, most conscientious musician I could have hoped for.”
He blinked again. “Hardly. I only did my barest duty.”
“Nonsense. You’re a dive-in kind of musician. Not afraid to get your hands dirty. Like now, would you please take over for Gavriel? He’s the worst hair washer in the world.”
Gavriel snorted while Tiago got a horrified look on his face. “You wish me to wash your hair? But…” He swallowed hard and then nodded. “So be it. I will do as you ask.” He looked truly miserable at the prospect.
I patted his shoulder with my one good hand. “If you really don’t want to, I’ll keep torturing Gavriel.”
Tiago clenched his jaw and then took a formal position next to the sink. “I will do as you request.”
“Thanks,” I said, bending over so Tiago could work shampoo into my tangled strands. “Tiago, where is everyone? The music hall is practically abandoned.”
He squinched his face and started massaging shampoo very thoroughly into my scalp. “After the, um, final performance, the music guild representative came to the hall and informed everyone that, well, you were never authorized to reopen Singsong City’s hall, that you were never the true music master.” He rubbed my scalp with slightly more vigor than was comfortable. “But you’re connected to the most fearsome guild in the country, not to mention the ogres. You can certainly contest their ruling. But do you still want to be Singsong City’s music master? You could sing with the angels, or go to Lastlight to learn from the elven masters. Or do whatever ogre royalty does.” He sounded so longing when he mentioned Lastlight.
“Tiago, I believe in music, and I believe that Singsong City needs to be brought together as it only can be through music. I don’t need the music guild to tell me what my calling is. If they don’t let me use this music hall, even after Rook and his artisans put so much work into making it into the gleaming stone beacon it should be, I’ll make another hall. I’ll set up tents on the street if I have to. That’s actually a good idea, so I can bother people on the streets about their duties and responsibilities to further the unity and nobility of their beautiful city. Music shouldn’t be trapped behind the walls of a building. It should spill forth into every street and into every heart.” Man. I was getting as melodramatic as Richy.
He peered down at me with his hands on the back of my head. “You really believe that?”
“If I didn’t, I’d still be singing with the angels.”
The tension in his eyes increased. “You shouldn’t be here without the ogres to protect you.”
“I’ve got Gavriel. He’s very capable.”
Tiago frowned while his forehead gleamed with perspiration. “You’re in terrible danger, Music master.”
“Tiago, are you…” My words cut off as Tiago shoved my head under the water and held me down.
I struggled, but I wasn’t feeling great and couldn’t sing my way out of this mess. What was Tiago doing? Wasn’t he the one who’d warned the emperor about the assassination? But how had that arrow gotten through my shield if someone on the inside hadn’t broken it at the exact right moment? Tiago was on my side, on the side of music, but he was also trying to drown me in my sink.
His hands loosened and I came up gasping for air, blinking water out of my eyes while searching the counter with my fingers for a weapon. I came up with a butterknife that I turned to see Gavriel struggling with the elf.
Tiago broke a potion bottle on Gavriel’s forehead, dripping pink sparkles into his eyes. Gavriel immediately collapsed and started snoring, leaving me to face Tiago, the first musician I’d recruited for my music hall, the one who I would have sworn was the most loyal.
By the look on his face, he was even more horrified by what he was doing than I was.
“Is it a compulsion spell?” I asked, edging away from him, holding my butter knife. I didn’t want to hurt Tiago. He was the most wonderful guitarist, and such a patient teacher, and not nearly as snobbish as most elves.
He jerked, like he was trying to stop his hand from raising. He had a throwing knife.
“Tiago, it’s okay. I don’t take it personally. I know that you’d never willingly jeopardize Singsong City’s music. Who’s controlling you?”
His face contorted. “I was exiled from Lastlight for treason. I’ve spent centuries wandering without a people, finding solace in music. You’re more than a music master. You’re my music family. It grieves me deeply to end your life, but my soul is bound to a monster that I must obey.”
He lunged forward and slipped on the soapy water Gavriel had spilled all over the floor. His lunge was so excellent, so forceful, that he entirely flipped, cracking his head against the hard stones.
I stood there, clutching a butter-knife with my one good hand and staring at the two fallen bodies. What were the odds?
A shadow filled the doorway and then the next moment, a gorgeous elven woman with perfect posture stepped into the kitchen, giving Tiago a sneer of disappointed disgust. Her sneer was so familiar. Ah, the monster he’d been talking about. I’d expected someone with fangs, not a chignon so neat and tidy that not a hair would dare escape. It was the princess from the Mayor’s box. Also the woman from the mayor’s office the day the stone wall fell on me.
“Why are you trying to kill me?” I asked, feeling more irritated than anything. Taking someone’s will was vile, particularly an excellent musician like Tiago. Monster indeed. And she was a princess. Wait. Was she related to my grandfather, and ergo me? I was starting to sense a motive.
“Yes,” she said with a sniff of her perfect straight nose. “Try being the unfortunate word.” She brought up her hands and blue lightning started flickering above the skin.
“Hold on a second,” I said, stumbling back and stepping on Gavriel. Oops. “Why don’t we discuss this? Whatever reason you want me dead, I’m sure we can figure out a solution.”
She sneered at me while the lightning over her hands was reflected in her eyes, giving her a creepy glow. “Yes, the solution is very apparent. You’re going to die.”
“Because you’re ashamed to be related to someone with a green tint? Is that it? Are you racist?”
Her sneer was so incredibly eloquent. No, it wasn’t the color that bothered her. “You have no understanding of the world you blunder through with no plan, no thought, no care. You should have died on the field with your troop years ago, but no, you had to awaken grandfather’s magic and ruin everything. Manipulating that much magic should have killed you, but the ogre in you is too strong, too stubborn to die. Fine. If you need me to personally intervene, then I shall.”
I shook my head and slipped away from her. “You planned the attack that day? You’d be willing to kill thousands of people just to get to me? You’re insane.”
Her eyes flashed and she really did look on the far side of mad. “It’s a matter of the state’s security. Our people need a strong leader that knows what elves should be, that is what an elf should be. You’re…” Her sneer was so incredibly communicative, particularly with the lightning.
I looked down at my unbandaged hand. The green tint wasn’t that noticeable. I thought it was sort of pretty. I certainly wasn’t going to cover it up with a glamour unless my dad wanted me to. I looked up at her and scowled. “If you’re what an elf should be, as a race you should be exterminated. How many of your other relatives have you killed?”
She snarled and threw lightning at me. Gavriel grabbed my ankle and yanked me down before I could be fried, but ow! Now my tailbone was hurting. Also, the cabinets were now hunks of char, flaking ash.
“Stay down,” he said to me with a terrifying scowl on his face. There was something weird about his eyes. Probably the glowing gold that made him look like one of the bad angels.
“You can’t face her. She’s got a lot of magic,” I said, grabbing onto the back of his shirt.
He smiled and patted my hair. “Such an adorable princess. I can see why he couldn’t run from you.” His scent changed. One moment he smelled of broody archangel, the next it was ogre. Pungent ogre who didn’t bathe very often. He also wasn’t very large, much smaller than Rook.
Wait, Gavriel was actually an ogre? Was he also a prince? Another strike of lightning came at us, but that time, Gavriel/ogre raised a shield out of the soapy water on the floor with a swoop of his blue hands, using it to catch the electricity and then send it down and over the floor towards the bloodthirsty elven elite who was standing in a puddle.
It all happened so fast. The ear-shattering boom of thunder, then the screech from the elf as her own lethal electric charge went through her, making creepy blue pattern lights all over her skin. Her hands stayed stretched out, frozen as she threw more and more and more of that deadly magic at us, unable to stop, unable to do anything but fry until her neat chignon was nothing but sizzling gold fluff.
The light show finally stopped and she dropped to the floor like her strings had been cut. I stared at her, then at Gavriel who was actually an ogre.
He was frowning at the elven woman. “Didn’t mean to kill her. Was supposed to record her confession, particularly about the elf under geas. No way to get that out of her if she’s dead. Unless you’d like to take her to the Necromancer.”
I shook my head at him. “Sorry, but what? Are you really Gavriel?”
He snorted and patted my head again. “So cute. No. He’s an archangel. You don’t honestly think that anyone would leave your protection to someone so delicate, do you?”
I blinked at him. Archangels weren’t delicate. “Who are you if you aren’t Gavriel?”
Just that moment, the doorway filled up with a group of pretentious-looking elves as well as Gray Society officers. The shortest elf pointed an accusing finger at me as he took in the scene. “Arrest her! She’s killed an elf princess! Not only is she a thief, a liar, and a scammer, she’s a murderer!”
The gray society officers were followed by a tawny, brawny fellow in a plaid suit who looked at the water on the floor cautiously. Seriously? Someone was going to arrest me? This just wasn’t my day.
“I didn’t kill anyone!” I snapped, raising my bandages. “How could I kill someone while I’m still recovering from the last great battle?” Had that elven princess actually set me up to fight Garnagth? I mean, it was a good thing to get it out of the way so I could marry Rook and we could live happily ever after, but…
The sneering elf wasn’t finished. He turned his pointy finger towards the ogre. I was so sick of sneering elves. “And him! Working with this tiny runt of an ogre to overthrow Singsong City, are you?” His voice was really lovely, if you didn’t get caught up on the dripping contempt. His hands were also lovely, with the perfect taper for a harpist. I squinted at that face until recognition finally clicked. Was that really the Music Master over the entire country? He’d brought his very own Gray officers from Apple City? I was toast.
“Tiny runt?” the ogre rumbled, clearly less than impressed with the music master. “Who are you to insult me?”
He sniffed and straightened up. “I’m Georfus Fendelson, the Grand Music Master, and you are both under arrest.”
The ogre snorted. “You and what army?”
Tiago took that moment to groan and sit up. He stared around the kitchen, shocked gaze landing on the fallen princess. Then he saw me and stumbled to his feet, coming at me with hands outstretched.
“You’re alive!” Tiago cried.
The ogre expanded into this monstrous beast, blocking Tiago, and knocking him back to the floor.
I winced. His head didn’t need any more bumps.
“Be careful with him,” I snapped at the ogre, going towards Tiago.
The ogre picked me up and put me on the counter, blocking every danger. He was a very conscientious bodyguard. “He’s under geas. You can’t trust him, even if you think you can. He can’t even trust himself.”
Tiago shook his head, scrambling back to his feet. He sniffed and adjusted the monocle. “I beg your pardon, but the geas is gone. I can confess everything. And I will. Her name will be utterly erased from time.” He gave the princess a look so scathing and condescending, I was a little scared. “She was killed by her own magic? She was nothing more than a fool after all.”
“Princess Tarilee is a legend!” the short elf cried, clearly upset. “You will hang for your crimes!” Once again, he was pointing at me.
“Makes you want to bite off his hands, doesn’t it?” the ogre rumbled.
I frowned at him. His diction was extremely good for an ogre. “You’re Rook’s dad?”
He grinned at me, a vicious smile with such sharp tusks, it had to be a threat. “Just so. That makes you my daughter-in-law. I heard that you’ve been married.”
“What are you waiting for? Take her!” the grand music master said, starting to really get upset, flapping his hands at the Gray Society guards and the walking plaid demonstration.
“Ahem,” someone said from behind them. Then my grandfather slipped into the kitchen, glanced at the fallen princess, shot a look at the ogre king, and then turned a serene smile on Georfus. “But you are quite mistaken.” His voice was mellow, but the Grand Music Master inhaled and started turning several shades of color.
“Emperor Silvertongue, you never leave the golden lands. What brings you here?”
My grandfather nodded at me, his ageless beauty shimmering subtly, making the grand music master feel underdressed, undergunned, and underwhelming. “I am here for the princess’s crowning. I’ve been working on the perfect piece.” He pulled a gorgeous, delicately ornate crown out of his sleeve and held it so it caught the light mesmerizingly.
“But…” Georfus sputtered, looking from my grandfather to the fallen princess. “The Princess is dead.”
“What dead princess? I only see my own lovely granddaughter looking like she should be recuperating in a bed being waited on hand and foot rather than washing the kitchen floors.”
The ogre king snorted and pulled a crown out of thin air. “That crown looks like a stiff breeze would blow it away. She needs something solid, something that can actually take a blow or two.” His crown did look sturdy, also like it would break my neck. It also wasn’t what I’d call pretty, more like a helmet missing chunks.
The elven emperor frowned at the ogre king. “Her crown is fit for an elven princess.”
“But she’s the ogre princess.”
“And you want to break her neck?”
“I want to break yours.”
That’s when Rook showed up, plucked both crowns out of the air and tucked them under his arm, making both of them vanish.
“Finally, someone sane,” I muttered.
Rook cleared his throat, glancing at me. He was so handsome, Magr, Rook, it didn’t matter. He was Magr, though, and wasn’t quite as large as the ogre king.
“Are you all right?” he asked in a low rumble that went to my bones.
I nodded and beamed at him. “Of course I am now that you’re here. How was the troll war?”
“Too long. I’ve missed you.”
My heart panged and fire spread through me while a familiar aching happiness chased away every other thing.
The ogre king snorted and stepped aside with an elegant gesture so Rook could take his place at the counter. He slipped his arms around my waist and leaned his forehead against mine, inhaling deeply my scent while I reciprocated.
“Next war, I’m going too,” I declared, rubbing my nose on his silky cheek. He felt so good. And so did I when we were together.
“No, you’re going to jail!” the repetitious elven music master decreed.
I peered around Rook to frown at him. “No, I’m actually not. I have the backing of the Holy Order of the Swords of Truth. My brother is a lion. If you have a problem with my position here as Music Master, the one who single-handedly dragged it back from the abyss you were happy to push it into, then you can address him with your grievances. He’ll be happy to show you the error of your ways.”
My grandfather cleared his throat. “She also has the backing of the golden lands.” He gave me a slight nod. “If you need more teachers, as well as funding for a school, I would be happy to help.”
All of a sudden, elves weren’t so bad.
The ogre king coughed. “And she’s got Rook the Luthier on constant retainer. What other music hall can boast of that, hm?”
One of the Gray society officers got a call and raised his phone to his ear. His eyes widened and he glanced at his friends and then nodded and edged out of the room, leaving the Grand Music Master alone. No, the plaid guy was still there, leaning against a counter and eating an eggroll, but I didn’t get the idea he was actually on the Grand Music Master’s side. More like he was watching an interesting show.
The Grand Music Master sputtered one last time and then eyed me narrowly. “It seems you have wiggled your way out of your just desserts this time. Next time you step out of line, the hammer will fall.”
“Excuse me?” I said, scowling at him. “No, actually, you’re going to pay back payment for all the taxes Singsong has been sending your guild for the upkeep of Singsong City since I’ve been here. You’re also going to watch yourself. If I smell a hint of corruption from your direction, I’ll bring war to you.”
He stared at me, and finally, a flicker of fear and awe went through his eyes. “No. You’re not the angel. The one who…”
Rich walked in, golden wings outstretched and draped an arm around the elf’s shoulders, making him gasp and go pale. “She’s an angel, all right. The one who. Maybe you should hurry home and arrange those payments before she decides she’d like me to escort you. I’m the lion she was talking about. And I’m very hungry.”
The elf clenched and unclenched his jaw several times before he gave me a stiff bow. “I see that the Singsong Music Hall is in good hands. Welcome to the guild, Music Master Miracle.”
“It’s Mirabel, but thanks,” I said.
Then Rook scooped me up and carried me out of the kitchen, past the fallen princess-murderer, and out into the cool, quiet hall.
“Where are we going?” I asked him, settling closer to his chest.
“Snuggling. I take my husbandly duties seriously.”