Tymora's Luck - Kate Novak [5]
"Jas, you're being ridiculous about this," Joel said. "Give me one good reason why you won't come with me."
"I don't have to give you any reasons," Jas retorted. "This is my business. Why don't you just let me be?" The whites of her eyes flared, and her dark brown irises began glowing green.
"You don't mean that," Joel argued.
The vision quickly faded. Ayryn looked up, shaking her head. "Misdirected," she whispered in Montgomery's direction. "I'm going to try one more time," she said.
The room dimmed somewhat. A god Bors recognized appeared in the center of the room. The deity was seated on a bench, strumming a lyre. He appeared as a handsome young man about ten feet tall with shoulder-length hair of spun gold. He wore a tunic of fine brocade with fur trim. Behind him was a great library, with shelves and shelves of books and scrolls. The god was Milil, Lord of Song.
Milil looked up from his instrument. "At last, an audience," he said with a sly grin.
Bors's body tensed.
"Welcome, prying eyes," Milil greeted them. "I expect you to pay attention now. It's the least you can do after peering into my realm without invitation."
Milil began to sing "The Baker's Daughter," a love song about a silver dragon's love for a mortal woman. His voice was deep and mellifluous. Several of the women in the audience sighed.
Next Milil sang "Pipeweed Dreams," a halfling drinking song. Many members of the audience joined in, while others just hummed along softly.
Milil sang "The Seven Sisters," a long ballad. Then he sang "Three Thayvian Roses," a bawdy festhall tune that brought a blush even to Montgomery's face. Finally he began, 'The Purple Dragons of Cormyr," another long ballad. A few members of the audience began to nod off. Milil woke them with a little shout. The concert continued. Milil began singing several old Torillian folk songs one about the weather, another about crops, and even one about milking cows.
Bors stole a glance at Ayryn. Surely she cannot keep scrying for much longer, he thought. She must be exhausted.
Ayryn's blue skin was pale. There was a glazed look over her eyes. Although deities could not enter Sigil, somehow Milil had managed to get some charm through the crystal.
"And now," Milil said, "I have a truly special treat. "The finale from the opera The Fall of Myth Drannor."
Bors slipped up to Ayryn and yanked the crystal ball from her hand.
Mercifully, Milil's image disappeared.
The audience shook themselves from their stupor. Montgomery laughed.
"My, but wasn't that interesting," the Sensate leader said.
I've heard that people commit murders at the operas and no one notices because everyone on stage is bellowing at the top of his lungs.
–Olive Ruskettle
Act One Scene 1
Joel stood at the end of his last song and bowed to the audience. His long red hair fell forward and brushed the floor. The applause was loud and long and spiced with a few shouts of "More!" Joel made an exit, stage left. Though a very young man, he had been a bard long enough to know the three main rules of the entertainer. Don't turn your back on your audience. Don't upstage the act that follows. Always leave the audience wanting more.
"And that was Joel, the Rebel Bard, at the end of his exclusive engagement here at Chirper's Seawind Theater," the master of ceremonies announced. "Coming up in ten minutes, our next performer, the renowned juggling act of Shar Nova."
One of the stagehands slipped Joel a note.
The bard perused the writing quickly. "Finally," he muttered. He slipped through the dressing room, tied back his hair, retrieved his sword and knapsack, and stepped out into the theater. Nonchalantly he followed a few members of the audience who were taking advantage of the break to leave the theater.
Chirper's Seawind Theater