Page 54 of Ogres Don't Play

He grinned at me. “Good luck with the Jubilee today. You’re going to have a migraine by the time it’s over.”

He was not wrong. As soon as he left, Lanise barged into my room, eyes shooting fire at the window. “Vile angel.”

“Did you let your guard down because he’s so pretty? Let that be a lesson for you, Lanise. All that glitters is not gold, and just because it has wings doesn’t mean it’s an angel.”

She growled and set my breakfast tray next to me on my bed before wandering off, muttering to herself like a crazy ogre.

I ate quickly, and soon enough Driver was taking our car through the heavy traffic until we reached the area around the stadium. I saw vampires beneath parasols and goblins in suits, as well as werewolves on skateboards. They weren’t waiting for nightfall to come and celebrate.

At ten a.m. I was on the platform with the mayor while the reporter he was blackmailing took photos, then there was the small mixed choir singing Singsong city’s theme, but a new version, the one that had won the composition competition I’d thrown together a week ago. A cute werewolf girl had won, but there had only been three submissions. Hers was the most legible. Still, it was fun to hear a more aggressive take on the theme, with some electric guitars and drums to follow up Balry’s extremely classical concert the night before. Yes, we were serious about including Song in the festivities.

After that, the mayor gave a speech while I left the stage to check on the next group of musicians, young elves that Tiago had been giving private lessons to, but who had been pushed into a public performance by their parents.

One of the girls was distraught because she’d broken a string on her violin. I pulled one of the extra instruments tucked under the main platform for the purpose and got her set up. The rest of the day went like that, small disasters, like broken strings, and large disasters, like a fairy girl who was part of a dancetroupe that would perform while the orchestra played, punched a goblin, and the two girls had to be pulled apart by an ogre. The ogre casually cracked their heads together and tossed them away. Of course, fairies and goblins had notoriously hard heads, but the way they were reeling afterwards, and the fact that the fairy girl didn’t do so great at her dance, showed that the ogre used too much force. Still, it set the tone. We would not tolerate violence. Ogres kept the peace very well, however ironic it was to use ogre and peace in one sentence.

All day, Rich’s words kept playing through my head. The only time it completely stopped was when I stood with the crowd at the edge of Rook the Luthier’s large booth while he demonstrated how he crafted a drum. I watched his hands, listened to his voice, and all the seeds of doubt Rich had planted were swept away.

The first goblin performance was extremely notable, mostly in their absolute technical perfection, and their absolute lack of emotional expression. It didn’t help that the piece was the most monotonous thing they could have picked. The adult elves performed after the goblins, and it was so breathtakingly emotional, pulling at all the variations of feelings through tone and mood.

The Goblin Authority stood beside me, arms crossed as he glared at the elves. “They aren’t as accurate.”

“Even though they are incredibly pretentious and picked that piece just to showcase their trills and arpeggios, they know how to manipulate emotion. Elves are masters of manipulating emotion, and when it comes down to it, that’s what entertainment is about, fueling emotions.”

He glanced at me, nodded slightly and went back to studying the musicians.

“It’s all right to express emotions sometimes,” I said.

He jerked his head. “The priority is maintaining control. When your ogres sing with some expression, then I’ll know that we’re going to war.”

I’d heard Rook sing with more than some expression, and he hadn’t been going to war. Unless I was the war he was trying to win. Why would he want to? Yes, he needed to keep the face of his cause alive, but he could have delegated Driver to watch my back in the first place. He’d personally taken that wall for me. Did he not realize that I’d be at the mayor’s office on that fateful day?

By the last concert, I was buzzing with music and with irritation. I was performing with Tiago and three other musicians from the music hall who had truly gone above and beyond, as far as getting out of their comfort zone. Teaching werewolves to sing was not for the timid.

The singing teacher, Macky, a brownie or gnome, something like that, and I wasn’t going to ask, gave me a tight smile. We hadn’t rehearsed as much as she’d like, and she didn’t trust my ability to duet with her adequately. My philosophy of making it up if worst came to worst probably didn’t help. All the musicians had different philosophies, different styles, but it wouldn’t matter. It would come together.

The piece was complex, and the voice parts were woven between my harp and Tiago’s classical guitar. I drew the music around me, weaving it with my voice and harp until the air was brighter, beauty, grace, with an underlying playful energy that I leaned into. I needed some fun, so I would have it, whether or not Macky the brownie-gnome approved. I forgot about the audience, the politicians, and became lost under the wave of pure, delightful harmony. I drew it out as long as I could, but eventually the resolution came, and with it, silence.

I sighed heavily as the last note faded into profound silence, and then the crashing applause struck me like a baseball bat.The ogres roared their wall of sound while the general populace added to the furor.

I glanced at Tiago with my brow raised. Hopefully the ogres wouldn’t forget that we weren’t at war right here, right now. I stood along with the other musicians, bowed, and then I tried to leave the stage. I had things to do before I could get to bed, and it was already late. Tiago pulled me back on the stage, where I stood feeling awkward while the crowd applauded.

I gestured at the other musicians, but they were looking at me. Macky had an accusing look in her eyes, like I’d fooled her. Had I? Of course not.

I smiled at the crowd, bowed again and then left the stage, dragging Tiago with me because he wouldn’t let go of my arm.

“Where are you going?” he demanded as I crawled under the stage, searching for the basket I’d put the strings in. It was very dark under there.

I didn’t answer, but found it and pulled it out, turning to Tiago. “Your D string. I need to meet up with Delphi and find out what went wrong and what we can do to fix it, so tomorrow goes more smoothly.”

“But the audience is still applauding,” Tiago pointed out, like I couldn’t hear them. “You’re going to have to go out and do an encore.”

I stared at him in the weird stadium lighting. “That could go on all night.”

“Could it? Then perhaps you shouldn’t put quite so much magic in your music. Come on, Music Master. You mustn’t let down your audience.”

“It’s not my audience,” I protested, but let him nudge me back up the steps and onto the stage.

I waved and then plucked two strings on my harp. The crowd immediately went silent. I glanced at Tiago, and he smiled and nodded encouragingly. I needed to play something that theaudience wouldn’t connect to. Usually that was the Dirge of Malevolence, but Rook was in the audience. I wasn’t about to play his heartsong for the world to hear.

---