“I didn’t get much sleep last night,” I admitted.
“Every time you do this it makes the eventual payback that much worse,” Wil said.
“We can’t do anything but snap at each other,” I said. “The masters made sure of that. Anything too extreme would get us expelled for Conduct Unbecoming a Member of the Arcanum. Why do you think I haven’t made his life a hell?”
“You’re lazy?” Wil suggested.
“Laziness is one of my best characteristics,” I said easily. “If I weren’t lazy, I might go through the work of translating Edamete tass and grow terribly offended when I discover it means ‘the Edema Drip.’” I raised my hand again, thumb and middle finger extended. “Instead I’ll assume it translates directly into the name of the disease: ‘nemserria,’ thus preventing any unnecessary strain on our friendship.”
I eventually sold my slot to a desperate Re’lar from the Fishery named Jaxim. I drove a hard bargain, trading him my slot for six jots and a favor to be named later.
Admissions went about as well as could be expected, considering I couldn’t study. Hemme was still carrying his grudge. Lorren was cool. Elodin had his head down on the table and seemed to be asleep. My tuition was a full six talents, which put me in an interesting situation….
The long road to Imre was mostly deserted. The sun brushed through the trees and the wind carried just a hint of the cool that fall would soon be bringing. I headed to the Eolian first to retrieve my lute. Stanchion had insisted that I leave it there last night, lest I break it on my long, inebriated walk home.
As I approached the Eolian, I saw Deoch lounging against the doorpost, walking a coin across the back knuckles of his hand. He smiled when he saw me. “Ho there! Thought you and your friends would end up in the river by the way you were weaving when you left last night.”
“We were swaying in different directions,” I explained. “So it balanced out.”
Deoch laughed. “We’ve got your lady inside.”
I fought down a flush and wondered how he had known I was hoping to find Denna here. “I don’t know if I would call her my lady exactly.” Sovoy was my friend, after all.
He shrugged. “Whatever you call her, Stanchion’s got her behind the bar. I’d go grab her before he gets overly familiar and starts practicing his fingering.”
I felt a flash of rage and barely managed to swallow a mouthful of hot words. My lute. He was talking about my lute. I ducked inside quickly, guessing the less Deoch saw of my expression the better it would be.
I wandered through the three levels of the Eolian, but Denna was nowhere to be found. I did run into Count Threpe though, who enthusiastically invited me to have a seat.
“I don’t suppose I might persuade you to pay me a visit at my house sometime?” Threpe asked bashfully. “I’m thinking of having a little dinner, and I know a few people who would love to meet you.” He winked. “Word about your performance is already getting around.”
I felt a twinge of anxiety, but I knew rubbing elbows with the nobility was something of a necessary evil. “I’d be honored to, my lord.”
Threpe grimaced. “Does it have to be my lord?”
Diplomacy is a large part of being a trouper, and a large portion of diplomacy is adherence to title and rank. “Etiquette, my lord,” I said regretfully.
“Piss on etiquette,” Threpe said petulantly. “Etiquette is a set of rules people use so they can be rude to each other in public. I was born Dennais first, Threpe second, and count last of all.” He looked imploringly up at me. “Denn for short?”
I hesitated.
“Here at least,” he pleaded. “It makes me feel like a weed in a flowerbed when someone starts ‘lording’ me here.”
I relaxed. “If it makes you happy, Denn.”
He flushed as if I’d flattered him. “Tell me a bit about yourself, then. Where are you lodging?”
“On the other side of the river,” I said evasively. The bunks in Mews were not exactly glamorous. When Threpe gave me a puzzled look, I continued. “I attend the University.”
“The University?” he asked, clearly puzzled. “Are they teaching music now?”
I almost laughed at the thought. “No no. I’m in the Arcanum.”
I immediately regretted my words. He leaned back in his seat and gave me an uncomfortable look. “You’re a warlock?”
“Oh no,” I said, dismissively. “I’m just studying. You know, grammar, mathematics….” I picked two of the more innocent fields of study I could think of, and he seemed to relax a bit.
“I guess I’d just thought that you were…” he trailed off and shook himself. “Why are you studying there?”
The question caught me off guard. “I…I’ve always wanted to. There’s so much to learn.”
“But you don’t need any of that. I mean—” he groped for words. “The way you play. Surely your patron is encouraging you to focus on your music….”
“I don’t have a patron, Denn,” I said with a shy smile. “Not that I’m opposed to the idea, mind you.”
His reaction was not what I expected. “Damn my blackened luck.” He slapped his hand on the table, hard. “I assumed someone was being coy, keeping you a secret.” He thumped the table with his fist. “Damn. Damn. Damn.”
He recovered his composure a little and looked up at me. “I’m sorry. It’s just that…” He made a frustrated gesture and sighed. “Have you ever heard the saying: ‘One wife, you’re happy, two and you’re tired—”
I nodded. “—three and they’ll hate each other—”
“—four and they’ll hate you,” Threpe finished. “Well the same thing is doubly true for patrons and their musicians. I just picked up my third, a struggling flutist.” He sighed and shook his head. “They bicker like cats in a bag, worried they’re not getting enough attention. If only I’d known you were coming along, I would have waited.”
“You flatter me, Denn.”
“I’m kicking myself is what I’m doing,” he sighed and looked guilty. “That’s not fair. Sephran’s good at what he does. They’re all good musicians, and overprotective of me, just like real wives.” He gave me an apologetic look. “If I try to bring you in, there’ll be hell to pay. I’ve already had to lie about that little gift I gave you last night.”
“So I’m your mistress then?” I grinned.
Threpe chuckled. “Let’s not carry the analogy too far. I’ll be your match-maker instead. I’ll help you toward a proper patron. I know everyone with blood or money for fifty miles, so it shouldn’t be that hard.”
“That would be a great help,” I said earnestly. “The social circles on this side of the river are a mystery to me.” A thought occurred to me. “Speaking of which, I met a young lady last night, and didn’t find out much about her. If you’re familiar with the town…” I trailed off hopefully.
He gave me a knowing look. “Ahhh, I see.”
“No no no,” I protested. “She’s the girl that sang along with me. My Aloine. I was just hoping to find her to pay my respects.”