Spellbinder (Moonshadow #2)

Still, her energy waned to such an extent she was starting to get worried when, finally, the curtains behind her parted, and Kallah whispered, “Make this your last song.”

Relief coursed through her. Without glancing back, she gave a slight nod and smoothly brought the song to an end. While she played the final notes, she looked around at the images from the harmonics. As if the magic understood it was the end, a gossamer, panoramic sunset over the ocean filled the hall, the colors deepening into night.

After she finished, a smattering of polite applause sounded throughout the great hall.

It sounded anemic, almost begrudging, nothing like the normal wild enthusiasm of her concerts.

Blinking, she tried to absorb the feedback. What had she done wrong?

Sure, she had played pop songs, but nobody here would have known what those songs were… and she had played them as well as she possibly could. That, together with Morgan’s spell, should have made things okay, and the magical imagery had been great. Had she misjudged her audience that badly?

The last of the adrenaline from the battle spell left and the crash hit. The shaking started deep inside, and with an effort, she stiffened her legs to remain standing.

Kallah pulled back the curtain and beckoned her with a bright smile. “Her majesty would like to speak with you now.”

“Of course,” she said. Dread dragged at her feet. As she followed Kallah down a narrow flight of stairs, she asked tightly, “How bad is it?”

“What do you mean?” Kallah looked over her shoulder. Whatever she saw in Sid’s expression made her stop and turn completely around, looking up as Sid hovered on a step above her. Gently, Kallah told her, “You were utterly, shockingly wonderful. I can’t remember when I last heard music as sublime as yours. Some of the songs brought tears to my eyes, and I’ve never seen the harmonics respond to a musician as they did to you. Everybody loved it—the queen loved it. Your life has gone through a profound change, Sid. You have become quite the sensation here, now.”

Her shaking worsened, and she had to wipe her eyes before she could speak again. Thickly, she muttered, “There was so little applause I thought it hadn’t gone well.”

Kallah touched her hand in a quick, impulsive gesture. “You couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s considered bad manners to overwhelm the hall with unseemly signs of enthusiasm. The real show of appreciation is waiting for you down below. Your performer’s hat is overflowing.… I can’t remember when I’ve seen a hat so full.”

“I have no idea what that means.” Sid would just be glad if she didn’t get her fingers broken again.

Kallah gave her another smile. Her demeanor toward Sid seemed to have warmed significantly, as if she had been waiting for her to prove herself. “Come and see. I think you’ll be very pleased.”

Only then did Sid remember she could try to telepathize with Morgan. She hadn’t used the telepathy earrings enough for them to become commonplace. Reaching for him mentally, she asked, Are you there?

Immediately, Morgan’s rich, warm voice filled her mind, and it was such a balm to her abraded nerves she had to grasp at the banister to keep her knees from buckling. I am. You did beautifully, Sidonie. Now, hang on. You’re almost there. You’ve got a bit more you need to get through, and then you can rest.

Her breathing roughened, and her eyes prickled, but she was not about to face that walking, talking piranha with tears in her eyes. Pushing the emotion aside, she squared her shoulders and followed Kallah to a room that was much smaller than the great hall, more intimate, with plush, comfortable furnishings arranged into a sitting area.

Isabeau lounged on one couch, her feet tucked under her. Two men kept her company. One was Modred, who stood leaning against one corner of a fireplace, and the other was a Light Fae male Sid had never met before, who sat in a nearby chair.

The unknown male was speaking. “Quite a stunning performance, especially given her inferior breeding.”

“Indeed,” Modred said.

Sid’s gaze skidded over Modred. She could not look at him without remembering the smile he had given her down in that ugly, pain-filled room when he took away her reason for living.

But instead of squandering her fast-waning energy obsessing over past events, she turned her attention to the only person of relevance in the room.

When Isabeau saw her, she set aside her wine goblet, rose, and walked toward Sid with both hands outstretched. Sid drew back in instinctive alarm, but then she saw Isabeau’s warm smile.

When she gets what she wants, she’s all warm, pretty smiles…

“Musician! What is your name, again? Sid? Tonight was lovely, simply lovely. I had no idea you would bring such sublime music and beauty into my life!” Isabeau grasped her hands, gaze wide with delight. “Where did you get such an amazing gift? That one song especially shot such arrows into my heart!”

I wish I could shoot arrows at you with my music, Sid thought. Now, that would be a skill worth developing.

Aloud, she murmured vaguely, “Where does anyone get their talent for things?”

Isabeau squeezed her fingers. Her touch made Sid’s skin crawl. “Exactly!” Isabeau exclaimed as she turned to face the two men. “Talents are given by the gods. Who knows where they might land, or for what reason? Heaven can be housed even in a vessel such as she.”

Suddenly Sid struggled with an entirely inappropriate desire to laugh. She thought, Just when I think I’m all out of fuck yous, somehow, I manage to find inspiration for yet another one.

I might be done playing music, but my performance isn’t over yet.

Rallying, she returned the Queen’s squeeze. “Your majesty, I can’t begin to tell you how much it means to me that you enjoyed tonight’s music.”

“Why, you’re trembling!” Isabeau exclaimed. “I hear performing can take some musicians that way. It is the artist’s temperament. Do have some wine… you have earned it, my dear.”

“No, thank you. It’s good of you to offer, but if I drink wine right now I will fall over.” The fixed stare from the unknown Light Fae male was beginning to grate on her, and Modred’s relaxed presence compounded the feeling.

What could she do to make this nightmare end? She swayed, and caught herself up.

She had forgotten Kallah, who murmured in a tactful voice from behind her, “Your majesty, perhaps it would be a good idea to keep this visit short. Sid wanted to honor you, and she has been working night and day to prepare for this evening. Not only that, but she went through several challenging days before then.”

Isabeau’s expression cooled at the oblique reference to Sid’s time in prison, but she adjusted smoothly enough.