Ronan was conferring with one of his students onstage. She’d just finished a love song that quite frankly hadn’t done a thing for me. There were shields at the base of the stage that would prevent spellsongs from having their full effect. They could be strengthened or lowered as needed. They could have turned them off for this girl. Maybe it was just me she left cold, but I didn’t think so. With spellsinging, the sex of the singer and the listener shouldn’t matter. A truly gifted spellsinger could make you forget that you even had a sexual preference. Ronan’s student was a regally beautiful goblin who came complete with her own entourage. Two armed and leather-armored bodyguards stood nearby, their eyes alert to her and everyone else in the room. The goblin girl was dressed in the height of fashion, and wore more jewelry than was tasteful. I thought one piece was particularly tasteless. A mirror pendant hung from a rope of diamonds around the girl’s neck. A mirror mage. Figures. A human hairstylist fussed with elaborately jeweled clips holding back the girl’s waist-length blue-black hair. One of the clips pulled the goblin’s hair and the girl spun and hissed something, the back of her hand stopping just short of the human’s face.
“Countess Sanura Mal’Salin,” Piaras told me as if that explained everything.
It did.
Apparently Ronan invited his best students—or the most politically advantageous. For years the goblin royal family had snubbed the Conclave college, until about ten years ago when goblin aristocrats started filtering into the college classrooms—and their gold started flooding into the college coffers. I wondered if Mal’Salin gold was paying for Ronan’s recital hall renovation.
Six students lounged at a cluster of tables at the base of the stage: three elves, two humans, and another goblin. None of them had entourages. I chuckled. It looked like Piaras had a small platoon in his wake. The platoon was for me, but no one here knew that. Vegard and Riston hung back a few feet to give Piaras and me the semblance of privacy. The others deployed themselves around the theatre. I saw a familiar young goblin leaning casually against one of the siren-covered columns, his arms crossed over his chest, watching the countess with amusement.
“Is the goblin next to the column one of Ronan’s students?” I asked Piaras.
Piaras nodded. “Talon Tandu. He also works here.”
“Do you know if he’s any good?” I asked.
“I heard him briefly in the maestro’s tower yesterday. I thought he was very good.” Piaras was silent for a moment. “Paladin Eiliesor didn’t want you to come here.”
“He didn’t want me to leave the citadel,” I corrected.
Piaras’s lips turned up in a brief smile. “No, I distinctly heard the words ‘Tam’ and ‘Sirens.’ I also heard my name more than once. You don’t go into a corner to argue about giving someone moral support.”
Crap. The kid’s got elf ears, Raine. You’ve got a pair yourself. They’re not just there to look good.
“Sounds like we should have left the room,” I told him. “Eavesdropping is rude.”
“I’m sorry, but when I heard my name, I thought it might be something I needed to know.” He hesitated. “And when Paladin Eiliesor said it wasn’t safe for you to leave the citadel, he looked like he meant it. I needed to hear why. I can’t do a good job of worrying about you unless I know what I’m supposed to be worried about.”
“The only thing you need to be worried about is singing. And you don’t need to worry about that. You’ll be splendid as usual.”
“You’re avoiding my question.”
“You’re ignoring my avoiding.”
“How else am I supposed to find out what’s going on? Whenever I walk by, everyone stops talking. I walk down the halls at the citadel, and the Guardians stare. I think some of them are afraid of me. They don’t need to be.” He looked down. “I don’t want them to be,” he said quietly.
Crap again.
Piaras wanted to be a Guardian more than anything. It looked like yesterday’s damage wasn’t only to sabotaged shields. Nothing stomped on a teenager’s already fragile self-esteem like being ostracized from day one by the men you most admired.
“Now everyone knows what I did to those Guardians.” A muscle twitched in his jaw. “All this is just the maestro displaying the freak.”
I looked directly into those liquid brown eyes. “You are not a freak. Just because you didn’t mean to put those Guardians to sleep doesn’t change what you accomplished. And yes, I said ‘accomplished.’ If you were on a battlefield aiming at the enemy, what you did would get you called a hero, not a freak. You have a rare and powerful gift, and that can intimidate people, because they only see the gift and not the person behind it. You are not a freak—and don’t you dare let anyone tell you otherwise.”
I saw a flicker of what may have been belief in his dark eyes. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, but I was just telling the truth. No thanks needed for that.”
“You’re not a freak, either,” Piaras said solemnly.
“The jury’s still out on that one.”
“I know you’re not a freak.”
I exhaled slowly. “Thank you, sweetie. You can’t know how much I needed to hear that today.”
One of the other spellsingers—a pretty, dark-haired human girl—was stealing shy glances at Piaras.
I gave him a lopsided smile. “Who’s that?”
Piaras looked where I was looking, blushed, and quickly looked away.
“Katelyn,” he said so softly I barely heard him.
My smile broadened into a grin. I bit my lip to make myself stop. “Katelyn who?”
“Valerian,” he whispered.
“That Valerian?”
Piaras nodded. “The archmagus’s granddaughter.” He glanced at her, and she caught him looking. She smiled and gave him a shy wave. The tips of Piaras’s ears flushed pink.
“Have you heard her sing?” I asked.
He looked at Katelyn and kept looking. The kid was enraptured. “It was beautiful.”
I nudged him playfully. “Has she heard you sing?” Piaras nodded. “Yesterday in the maestro’s tower. Her lesson was after mine.”
“And…?”
“And what?”
“What did she think?”
Piaras flushed scarlet. “She said I had the most magnificent voice she had ever heard.”
I grinned and nodded approvingly. “Beautiful and she has flawless taste in men and music. I could like this girl.”
Piaras risked another quick look at her. “Me, too.”
“Piaras!” Ronan Cayle yelled. We both jumped. “It’s your turn. Quickly now. Our host needs his theatre back in another hour.”
I punched him on the arm. “Break a leg, sweetie.”
As Piaras made his way to the stage, I pulled out one of the chairs and made myself comfortable. I was far enough back to see anyone who came into the theatre. When I looked up, Talon Tandu was sauntering toward me like a sleek young cat, all cocky bravado, those aquamarine eyes checking me out from head to toe and taking their sweet time doing it.
I bit back a laugh, and heard Vegard’s muffled snort from behind me. Talon couldn’t have been much older than Piaras—at least in age. Though with his looks, he’d probably already had plenty of experience way beyond his years.
Talon’s pale eyes sparkled. “You don’t look the worse for wear from last night.”
Now that was a pickup line I hadn’t heard before.
“Silver-tongued little minx. I’ll bet you say that to all the girls you roll in the gutter with.”
He pulled out a chair, straddled it, and folded his lean arms across the backrest. His grin was full of fang. “I liked watching you wrestle last night. I think I heard a few of that shaman’s bones break. You went to a lot of trouble for one little book.”
“I take my education very seriously.” I folded my arms across my chest. It was the only way to get the kid to quit staring at my breasts.
Talon jerked his head toward Piaras. “Did he really knock out every Guardian in the citadel?”
“Not all,” I said. “Some of them couldn’t hear him.”
Talon laughed, a bright silvery ring. “Damn, what I wouldn’t give to have seen that. So you’ve come to hear the trained songbirds perform?”
“Sounds like you’re feeling less than honored.”
“Ronan opens the cage once a year and has us warble and trill for wealthy alumni and filthy rich parents.” His eyes were hard as they looked at something over my left shoulder. “How am I supposed to feel?”
I turned slightly. Sanura Mal’Salin had gathered up her entourage and was leaving the theatre.
“I’m here to listen to Piaras,” I said. “But I’d like to hear more about what happened last night. The men who tried to snatch you aren’t known for music appreciation.” I slouched down in the chair and crossed my legs at the ankles. “So what happened?”
“I was on my way to work, and somebody’s hired goons tried to kidnap me,” Talon said casually. “When you do what I do, and look how I look, you attract more than your share of pervs and overzealous fans.”
“You say it like it’s not the first time.”
The goblin shrugged. “I’ve been kidnapped twice before.”
I just looked at him for a moment. “Did Tam come after you those times, too?”
He arched one flawless eyebrow. “Tam? You know the boss?” He grinned slowly. “Exactly how well do you know him?”
“Yeah, I know him. How or how well I know him is none of your business. I asked you a question. Did Tam rescue you those other two times?”
Talon shook his head. “They happened at my previous gig, a spellsinging club in Mipor. It paid well enough, but the owner had an arrangement with certain patrons— wealthy and influential patrons, if you get my meaning.”
