Dragonbait shivered. The minions must have recovered the seed somehow. He couldn’t believe how badly things were going, nor could he believe he’d been fooled so easily. “I don’t understand. Coral, you were so different on the mountain. Why were you weeping?”
Coral sneered. “To attract your attention, of course,” she replied. “One of our fliers spotted you from the air. I teleported to a spot nearby and feigned tears until you came to me. You were incredibly easy to fool.”
“I smelled your grief, your hope, your love. What I smelled was true,” Dragonbait said.
“You have deceived yourself. I felt none of those things,” Coral snapped. “The only truth I told was that I was glad you had returned to us. Now I can slay you in the name of the Darkbringer. Yours will be the first blood Moander tastes in its new body.”
17
Finder’s Secret
As Olive approached the cave, she could hear Alias singing. Though she couldn’t quite make out the swordswoman’s words, the halfling recognized the melody. Alias was singing “The Tears of Selûne,” one of Finder’s most haunting love songs. Something didn’t sound quite right, however. Olive halted to listen more carefully. It took her a moment to realize what was wrong—Alias was singing the song in the wrong key.
Olive heard a shout, and the singing stopped suddenly in the middle of a verse. She could imagine what had happened. Finder had ordered Alias to stop. Why the swordswoman had sung the song in the wrong key, Olive couldn’t imagine. Alias knew how Finder hated anyone altering his tunes, and it wasn’t like her to goad the bard. Olive crept to the mouth of the cave and peered in.
Alias sat on the floor of the cave, her head hanging like an embarrassed child. Finder sat nearby, glowering at the woman. Akabar and Grypht sat opposite the bard and swordswoman. Both spell-casters stared at Alias anxiously.
Olive could hear Alias whispering, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be a fool, Finder,” Akabar said. “She was just expressing what the saurials are feeling by turning your song into a soul song.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were changing my songs to sing these saurial things?” Finder demanded of Alias.
“I thought it might upset you,” Alias said softly.
“If you’d let her finish,” Akabar said, “we might learn something.”
“She was singing gibberish,” Finder protested.
Grypht must have begun speaking to the bard in saurial, for Finder turned his attention to the wizard for a moment. The bard answered Grypht in Realms common. “We’ve learned enough about Moander. We don’t need to hear any more.” Finder turned and snapped at Alias, “How dare you change my songs?”
“I can’t help it,” Alias whispered. “It just happens.”
“Nothing just happens,” Finder said. “If I meant as much to you as the saurials do, you’d be able to control it. If you can’t control it, don’t bother to sing my songs anymore.”
The swordswoman blanched, and Olive could detect the smell of violets in the cave. Alias was frightened and was communicating her fear through the saurial scent.
Grypht and Finder glared at each other, and now Olive could also smell baking bread, the scent of anger. Meanwhile, Akabar leaned toward Alias and tried to encourage her to ignore Finder and resume her singing.
After listening to Grypht for a short time, Finder had had enough. As the bard rose to his feet and turned away from the others, his blue eyes flashed red in the sunlight streaming into the cave. “Go ahead and sing their songs if you want,” he said coldly to Alias. “It makes no difference to me what you do.”
Alias swallowed, licked her lips, and took a deep breath. It was obvious she wanted to sing, but from the way the swordswoman trembled, Olive could see that she was too frightened to rise to her father’s challenge.
“Careful, bard,” Akabar taunted Finder. “She might just improve on your song. Then what would you do? Go ahead and sing, Alias.”
Akabar’s goading of the bard wasn’t helping to encourage Alias any. Akabar didn’t understand how desperately she wanted to please Finder. Olive understood it all too well.
Alias began rocking back and forth, clutching her knees to her chest and whimpering softly with a glazed look in her eyes. Grypht and Akabar hovered over her, trying unsuccessfully to comfort her. Finder stood stubbornly with his back to his daughter.
Olive entered the cave and padded over to the bard’s side. “Finder, think about what you’re saying for once,” the halfling said softly. “Look what you’ve done to her,” she insisted, pointing toward the swordswoman. “Have you forgotten? She’s not even two years old. She needs your love even when you don’t agree with her. You can’t just slap her and make her do everything your way like you do with everyone else.”
“I didn’t touch her,” Finder said, offended.
“You don’t have to touch her. You’re a master at using words as weapons,” Olive accused him. “Whether you injure her body or her heart, you’ll be making the same mistake you made with Flattery.”
The bard looked down at Olive with confusion—and fear. “What are you talking about?” he whispered.
“You know what I mean,” Olive said impatiently. “The way you bullied him.”
“How do you know about that?” the bard demanded.
“He left a long message in your workshop,” Olive said.
“So why didn’t you say anything?” the bard asked coldly. “Did you intend to sneak back to Elminster and tell him?”
Olive brushed angrily at the tears beginning to form in her eyes, but she held her head up proudly “The message was two centuries old, Finder,” she said. “I didn’t think it mattered anymore. I thought you’d changed.”
Finder stepped back as though he’d been slapped.
Olive turned her attention to the swordswoman. “Come on, Alias,” she said, patting the swordswoman’s shoulder. “Sing for us. It doesn’t matter if you change the song. Finder will understand. Won’t you, Finder?” the halfling asked with feigned sweetness.
Finder shot an angry look at Olive, but the glare she gave him in return shocked him into submission. “Yes,” he answered softly.
Olive signed sharply for the bard to sit down near Alias. He obeyed with a defiant look, but when Olive put his hand on Alias’s and he felt the swordswoman’s trembling, his expression changed to one of alarm. Not even a trapped bird trembled as fiercely as the woman before him did now. The bard saw, too, how pale she’d become—as white as the moment before she’d drawn her first breath. Her eyes stared blindly at him.
“I didn’t do this to her,” he said, refusing to admit his words could have so much power over anyone.
“Yes, you did,” Olive hissed. “Now fix it.”
“How?” the bard challenged.
“How do you think?” Olive whispered with frustration. “Apologize, you idiot.”
Finder bristled at the insult, but the blind look in Alias’s eyes softened his anger. “Alias … I’m sorry,” he whispered, squeezing her hand gently, “I didn’t … think about what I was saying. I want you you to sing. It doesn’t matter about the soul songs.”
Alias tilted her head and seemed to see the bard for the first time. She looked uncertain.
“Really. It’s all right,” Olive said encouragingly.
Alias looked at the halfling, confused. “Will you sing with me?” she asked Olive.
Olive started with surprise. Alias had taught her some of Finder’s songs, but they had never sung together. Olive had always been too jealous of the swordswoman’s voice to dare try to blend her own in with it.
“Please,” Alias whispered.
Olive was suddenly reminded of Jade, the copy of Alias who had been a thief. Olive had loved Jade, but Flattery had killed the thief. If I wasn’t jealous of Alias, would I love her, too? the halfling wondered. “Sure, I’ll sing with you,” she said. She sat down beside the swordswoman. “What should we sing?” she asked.