Page 93 of I Ran Away to Evil 2
The second shines orange in the dawn.
I am the youngest fire-touched,
A whirl with white and smoky-blue,
And though my sisters love me dear
They mourn my sky-bright hue.
She played the opening verse. Rufus grinned, “I have. It was sad, but sweet.”
“… I see.”
That evening had been a gathering of her fans organized by her fans. Rufus was obviously a great lover of music, and must have procured an invite, but Brownie didn’t know how she’d missed someone as large and in charge as the golden retriever beastman.
Unless he hadn’t attended in his beastman form.
Her mind drifted to the show as she felt the draw of her promised afternoon nap.
Ever since her big break in Drendil thanks to Henrietta, Brownie had gotten performance time at taverns and parties all over the kingdom and beyond. Her family in Peldeep had offered to set her up with a musical career early … but she’d wanted to find her own voice and her own path. Granted, Henrietta had pretty much done exactly what her family had offered to, but it was stilldifferent. Her friend might have set up the stage, but she’d had no one standing around with daggers pointed at their backs to clap. Being invited to one garden party on recommendation and being set up by a family of assassins were just not the same thing at all.
And so, when she had instantly become popular, she was suddenly collecting a team of music lovers who lovedher. Brownie’s songs were catchy, and they were new, and her voice was praised in the inner circles. So, for the last five or six years, she’d been followed around by a group of fans, and once a year, they hosted a gathering. Brownie loved it. She could pull out old songs or mix in new ones, and everyone knew the lyrics and knewher. She’d met many of them, but respected any boundaries for her anonymous or shy listeners.
For which she assumed Rufus must be in those numbers.
The last fan show she’d performed had been earlier this year in Sumbria, at a large and welcoming tavern near the canyon thatthankfullywas in a village on the edge of the elven forest. The building was made out of wood, but not from a magical tree.
She’d arrived in good spirits, ready for an exciting evening, and accidentally provided the catalyst to burn down the venue.
As one does.
Her mind wandering, she closed her eyes and drifted off into a warm and comfortable sleep.
CHAPTER 57
The Tragedy of Magicians
Rufus
I stared at Minstrel Bronwynn happily napping in the sun and tried to calm my rising blood pressure.
Her words had shaken me. There were songs of hers thatI hadn’t heard yet. For whatever reason.
It was unacceptable.
The thought was almost insulting.
I bet Her Viciousness Henrietta had heard them. She was Bronwynn’s sounding board, as I understood, and usually got first ear on the minstrel’s new completed work. I wasn’t jealous. Not at all.
I was envious.
Bronwynn usually performed only one new song in any given evening performance … and the only time I’d heard her perform two new pieces was at … the incident.
I shuddered. That night had been one I’d never forget. Actually, the memory haunted me, and I realized with a start one specific song that she’d revealed that evening …
Oh no. I dragged a paw down my face, remembering exactly where I’d heard her play “Wings of Ash.”
“Excuse me.”
