Song of the Saurials - Kate Novak [84]
All he could think about was Kyre, Alias realized in frustration. He wasn't interested in Nameless, She punched her saddlebag angrily. No one cares about Nameless except me. She wrapped her cloak tightly around herself and laid her head down on the saddlebags. And no one cares about me, except Nameless.
Akabar and his fiend-spawn wife can go chasing after Moander, if they want, and Dragonbait can go with them, for all I care. But once I find Grypht and make him give me the finder's stone, I'm going to search for my father.
*****
Olive bandaged, by herself, the wound the beholder had inflicted upon her. She was still too angry with the bard to accept any help from him. She felt betrayed by his declaration that he intended to deal with Xaran. She had expected him to have too much self-respect to deal with such a creature. After informing him curtly that Flattery had looted the workshop and left behind a death trap for him, she'd stalked off to a corner to steam in silence.
Finder appeared not to notice the halfling's anger. He began feverishly turning his workshop upside down, looking for something, anything, that he could use against the orcs. He'd been unable to get the other door leading out of the workshop to open, so now their only way out lay beyond the orcs. Unfortunately, Finder's search bore precious few results. Flattery had either known or discovered every last hiding place his maker had, for he had taken everything but Finder's musical instruments. Those he had tossed carelessly in a corner and apparently fireballed them. Only one instrument, a brass horn, survived the blast unscathed.
Finder pulled the horn out of the pile of charred yartings, melted flutes, and cracked harps and brushed it off carefully.
"Not completely stingy with your luck today, are you, Tymora?" the bard muttered.
Olive, too curious to remain silent, asked hopefully, "Is that horn magical?"
"Why don't you try it and find out for yourself, Olive?" Finder suggested, handing her the instrument.
Olive needed both hands to hold the heavy brass horn up to her lips. She puffed out her cheeks and blew with all her might, but without results. "My mouth is too small," she said, handing the horn back to the bard.
"Astonishing, considering the amount of noise that manages to come out of it,"
Finder said, straight-faced. He held the horn up to his own lips and blew a hunting flourish, then a military call to arms. Finally he fastened the horn to his belt, like a weapon.
"Well? Is it magic?" Olive asked again.
Finder nodded.
"What does it do?"
"With the right command words, it will bring down the house," the bard replied,
"literally."
"Considering that orc audiences aren't particularly noted for their appreciation of music," Olive said, "that could be useful."
Finder bent back over the pile of destroyed musical instruments. He pulled out a harp. Its wooden frame was broken and charred, and the strings were all snapped and frayed. He slid open a tiny secret compartment in the harp's base. "Did I leave something in- Aha!" the bard exclaimed as something small and glittering dropped into his hand. "Here, Olive. You should wear this," he said and held out an earring.
Without taking it. Olive eyed the piece of jewelry appraisingly. From the wire ear loop hung a platinum pendant set with a brilliant white diamond, which the halfling estimated must weigh more than a carat. The workmanship was obviously elvish and very beautiful. "A little fancy for entertaining orcs, isn't it?" she asked, trying to resist her desire to accept the gift.
Finder sat down beside her. He removed the tiny gold loop earring she already wore and slipped the wire loop of the diamond earring into the pierced hole in her earlobe. He flicked at the diamond pendant to set it swaying. "Olive," he asked suddenly, "do you speak any elvish?"
"Not really," Olive answered, shaking her head. In spite of her anger with Finder, she couldn't help but be delighted by the feel of the tiny pendant bumping against her neck. "Except some