The music of the horns danced around the lively plaza as we people-watched. I loved all the rounded fur hats and thick wool cloaks with silver embroidered hems. The Taigosi human garb was a little worn, but exceedingly beautiful. I admired the details on their thick leather belts and the silver hoops they wore in their ears, far more elegant than the humans in Allesdale.
I didn’t spot Grae, though I kept searching, and I hoped for the hundredth time that morning that wherever he was, he was okay.
“Navin!” Ora called, flagging down the tall harpist.
Even hunched against the chill, Navin stood a head taller than the shoppers meandering around him. He veered over toward us, winding through the tables and chairs.
Sadie sat up, her slumped posture turning rod straight.
“Join us.” Ora gestured to an empty chair.
“I’m off to buy some more resin for the twins,” he said, tipping his head toward the end of the plaza. He glanced at Sadie, lips curving up as he looked at her. “Want to come with me?”
“She can’t,” Hector said before Sadie could reply. “We’ve got some errands we need to run.”
“Oh, okay,” Navin replied, rubbing his hands together.
Sadie glared at her brother and back at Navin, jutting her jaw to the side. “Ora was telling us about this restaurant, the Ice Dragon. Have you heard of it?”
“Yes, I love the food there.” Navin’s bronze eyes beamed.
“Maybe we could go there for dinner tonight?” she asked, leaning into the table to block Hector. “Just us?”
I leaned back and smirked at Hector’s fuming expression.
Navin’s eyebrows shot up as his cheeks dimpled. “I’d like that.”
“Great.” Sadie nodded. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“See you then.” Navin’s chest puffed up, the invitation breathing new life into him. He bobbed his chin to the rest of us and headed back into the throng.
“Could you excuse us for a moment?” Hector asked, rising from his chair and tapping his sister on the shoulder.
Ora and I watched the two of them storm off. Hector was cursing something I couldn’t hear, flinging his hands in the air, but I knew he was talking about the sign in the third-floor window: No Skin Chasers.
I grimaced. “He’s protective.”
“I can see that.” Ora chuckled with a shrug. “Navin’s a really nice person and he seems smitten with your friend, but I’m sure I’m missing part of the puzzle.”
“Yes,” I said with a sigh. A very large piece of the puzzle.
The music stopped and the crowd applauded. Five of the musicians set down their instruments, heading off to the hot cider cart that had just wheeled into the square. Only a lone horn remained, playing a deep, resonant tune. I recognized the Olmderian mining song. “Sa Sortienna”—it meant “above the golden trees.” I’d always loved the lyrics. I began mouthing the words, tapping my foot to the sad, slow song.
The musician stopped, lowering his horn. “Do you know the words? Please, sing along.” He chuckled, tipping his head toward his bandmates. “They all left me to get a hot drink.”
“I’m not a very good singer,” I blurted out.
“It’ll be fun.” Ora nudged me as if it wasn’t a big deal to break into song in a public square. “I’ll sing, too.”
The musician smiled, pursing his lips back to the aperture. My throat went dry as I listened to the intro again.
Ora started singing, a beautiful mezzo, giving me a wink. “When I leave these caverns, my love, do you know just what I see? Above the golden trees, my love, the same moon shines for me.”
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, singing the higher harmony. “Pray I’ll come home, my love, and no monsters steal my gold. But gold or no, my love, pray I return ’fore we grow old . . .”
The horn crescendoed and my voice grew louder, matching Ora’s. My chest vibrated, the sound filling me down to my bones. The song made me ache, each word stretching out into the corners of my heart.
The song was about a couple missing who they were together and hoping they’d be united again. I imagined all those miners singing to their faraway loves, passing the time until they could return home. Each melancholic note rang with that feeling of loneliness. The bittersweetness echoed through me, hope and sorrow singing in equal measure.
Gooseflesh rippled across my skin, the emotions overwhelming my body. The song slowed into its final refrain, and Ora and I along with it. “Until then, my love, hold on to you and me.”
Cheering erupted and I whirled to see a small crowd gathered around us. I gaped at them, my cheeks burning. I’d been too focused on the song to notice them.
“Your voice!” Ora beamed, having to shout to me over the applause. “It’s so—”
“Beautiful.” A man in the crowd stepped forward. He had sharp features and sky-blue eyes. Something about his eerie stillness made my hackles raise.
“I’m Niklas,” he said, tipping his fur hat. “The Queen’s secretary.”
My eyes widened, taking in his perfect clothing—no snow on his jacket, no dirt staining his hems. I narrowed my eyes at him. He was handsome and elegant, but I didn’t think he was a Wolf, merely a well-to-do human in the Queen’s employ.
He gave me a crooked smile, clearly thinking my shock was because I was a lowly street performer . . . and not because I was a Wolf. “I know Queen Ingrid would be delighted to have you perform that song for her at the masquerade tomorrow night.”
The crowd gasped, applause ringing out again as if it were some great honor to be invited. I let out a stuttering breath, nerves coiling tight in my gut.
Breathe. At least he wasn’t a Silver Wolf. At least he didn’t know me.
“We’re already playing, my Lord.” Ora bowed. “We’re with Galen den’ Mora.”
“Splendid,” Niklas said with a grin. “Make sure you sing that song for Her Majesty.”
“It would be our pleasure.” Ora flourished their hand.
Niklas disappeared into the tittering crowd, people giving him a wide berth. The crowd dispersed as the horn players returned.
Ora’s face lit up looking at me. “Our little duet will be fun!”
“I can’t perform in front of the Queen!” I sputtered. “You can sing the song on your own, can’t you?”
“No, no, no,” they said. “It’s no good as a solo. You must! Please?”
“I-I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said. “I almost passed out doing it in front of ten people.”
Ora chuckled. “If you close your eyes, it doesn’t matter if it’s ten or a thousand.”
“A thousand?”
They settled their hand on my arm. “It’s a masquerade. No one will even see your face.”
“Oh, jumping juvlecks.” I gulped. “I need to find Grae.”