Page 31 of Ogres Don't Play

And if the look on the ogre’s face was any indication, when he turned his head to stare into my eyes, so did I.

Chapter

Twelve

Iplayed 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 withthat 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 hadto 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.

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