Page 15 of Honour Bound
Lexie nodded vigorously. ‘Drinking games, not Sidhe Games.’
I cleared my throat. ‘We have almost two weeks. That’s more than enough time to practise.’
Speck shook his head. ‘We’re doomed. This is going to be the longest two weeks of my life.’
***
Speck may have learned that the Artistry challenge involved music but we didn’t know much beyond that. Taylor sat me down with a triangle, wary reluctance all over his face.
I held it up. ‘A triangle? Really? I’m not going to win any prizes with this.’
‘It’s to get you started. Take the small pointy stick and hit it against the side.’
I gave him a long look. ‘I understand how a triangle works, Taylor.’ He muttered something under his breath. It wasn’t very complimentary. ‘What was that?’ I asked.
‘Nothing.’ He sighed. ‘I’m going to play you a piece of music. All you have to do is hit the triangle every eighth beat.’
‘Every eighth beat. Got it.’ I paused. ‘Do I hit it hard or softly? Does it matter where I strike it?’
‘Let’s just focus on the beat for now,’ he said firmly. He pressed play. ‘Let’s hear you then.’
I concentrated hard, I swear I did. I heard the first chimes of some classical piece which I was sure I recognised and began to count. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Beat.
‘Integrity!’
‘What?’
‘I said every eight beats.’
‘That’s what I did.’
He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Are you even listening to the music?’
‘Of course!’
He gazed at me, exasperated. ‘So why aren’t you hitting the beat?’
I flicked my hair and pouted while he started plucking the stuffing out of my favourite cushion. Shreds of synthetic wool dropped onto the floor, creating an arc around him as if he could shield himself by dint of polyester. Unfortunately, from that point things went downhill. Three hours later, I was ready to jam the triangle up his nostrils. Preferably the left one – it was hairier.
‘Singing,’ Brochan suggested, appearing when Taylor let out such a howl of frustration that the entire flat shook.
‘You try,’ Taylor snapped. ‘I’ve had enough.’
I watched him leave. ‘I don’t know why he’s so upset. I was trying. We all know music’s not really my forte.’ I smirked. ‘Geddit?’
Brochan was not amused. ‘Let’s try some scales, shall we?’
I only got halfway through the first octave before Bob appeared in a blinding flash of light. ‘Please, Uh Integrity, I can’t take this any longer. I have Amnesty on speed dial and if you continue with this, I shall have no choice but to report you for torture.’ I’d have argued with him if Brochan hadn’t looked so relieved.
I sighed. ‘This isn’t going to work, is it? How bad is it if I place last in the first challenge?’
‘Speck estimates your chances of winning the entire Games at around 0.5 percent,’ Brochan said quietly.
I sank down into the nearest chair. ‘Shite.’
From nowhere, Bob drew out a miniature violin and launched into an impressive rendition of Barber’s ‘Adagio for Strings’. I couldn’t tell if he was any good but Brochan seemed impressed. ‘It’s a shame the wee one’s not Sidhe.’
Bob halted mid-note and glared. ‘Who are you calling wee?’
