Page 13 of Ogres Don't Play

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Page 13 of Ogres Don't Play

Good. He’d get a much-needed nap, and I’d get some time and space away from the man and his shop before I went completely mad. And to think that I’d found him attractive. Ridiculous!

I headed east, towards the laboratory where I could find Libby, or at least her husband. My cell phone was gone, so I couldn’t just call Tiago and get an update about Master Cutter. I also needed to know more about ogres, such as how I could thank the big one who had saved me from the falling building. Also see if I could find actual documentation that Rook the Luthier was an ogre. I also needed to contact the reporter, and cancel the Song musician’s weekly meet-up which was tomorrow.

I walked quickly, down the dingy street of the undercity, beneath the lamps that hummed out-of-tune, tempting me to stop and fix them before I talked to Libby, but I seriously had no time or a harp. I stretched my legs even further. I really wanted to get back to the shop before the ogre woke up. He was holding me hostage with my harp. Yes, he’d bitten me, and I wouldn’t soon forget it, but he was still the luthier of every musician’s dreams. And I wasn’t sure I’d minded him nibbling on me.

The laboratory was an enormous structure, the dark side of Sing’s Library of Antiquities above it, the walk up to it lined with flickering LEDs in red and black that lent a sense of foreboding to the place. The face of the building was black, like a vampirecastle in a cavern, growing right up to the roof of Song, so it didn’t need creepy light effects, but that was vampires for you, overdoing the vibe just for irony.

The door was guarded by a werewolf who gave me a second take before edging away from me.

I smiled at him and took a step after him. “Jackroe, right? Your nephew’s in our song study. He told me that you played a mean banjo. As a citizen of Song, it’s your right and your duty to assist in the…” He turned and ran, loping away from me like it wasn’t rude to interrupt someone right when they were getting warmed up on their favorite spiel. Oh well. I didn’t have time to convert a reluctant musician to the cause today. I marched across the grand hall, not getting distracted by any of the rooms behind glass windows that showed various dissections, surgeries, or potion making. If they did experiments in music, I’d be all over that, but this was just Frankenstein stuff.

“May I help you?” a woman asked, her lab coat not doing much to disguise her seductive vibe. I hadn’t looked that seductive in the ogre’s shirt. Seriously, why did he react like that?

“I’m looking for The Librarian. Is she in the lab?”

Her smile attempted sweetness, but she looked too evil villainess to buy it. She probably was truly sweet, but the darkness in her veins would always reveal itself.

“Ooh, you’re looking for Libby?” another female said, bouncing and beaming, flashing her fangs and red eyes.

“Yes, thank you.” I knew her as one of the people who had helped Libby get ready for her wedding. She was the Scholar’s ward, or something like that. I offered her a small smile. Maybe she had some musical aspirations that I’d somehow neglected to unearth. “Do you sing?” I asked as they led me down halls in the laboratory until it seemed like we’d wind up in the dungeon, but eventually, they knocked on a door veined with heavenly gold.When it finally opened, a goblin peered out at me, an impressive scowl on his face.

“Libby’s friend is looking for her,” the vampire said with a winning smile at the goblin.

He looked at me for another beat, then slammed the door in my face.

“Don’t worry,” the lab coat woman said with a seductive smile. She had to be part succubus with that strong of a vibe. It reminded me of… I absently put a hand over my neck, rubbing it while I tried to focus.

“Goblins are usually abrupt. I should ask if Libby’s busy, but she’s always busy working, so it seemed like a pointless politeness. I’m Mirabel, the Music Master of Singsong City.” I held out a hand to take hers.

She was slow in giving it to me. “Yes, he’s always like that. She’ll be out in a minute. I’m Doctor Sultry. Do you know Katrina?”

“Of course she knows me,” Katrina said, smiling sweetly. “I danced with your brother at the wedding.”

Those words hit me like a ton of bricks. I’d hoped that everyone forgot about that. “Ah. That’s right. He didn’t kill you. That’s always memorable.”

Her eyes were intense, big, apparently kind of fixated on him after only one dance. It usually took less than that, actually. She must be quite reticent. “Is he really a lion of the Holy Order of the Swords of Truth? He seemed too small for that.”

I snickered. Maybe she wasn’t entirely obsessed. Richard would be so shocked to hear that he hadn’t impressed the girl with his brawn and build. “You can’t be too big if you ride a Pegasus. He is one of the larger ones, though.”

The door swung open again, and there was Libby, covered in golden cobwebs and blood.

Um.

“There you are!” She grabbed my hands and squeezed me tight, smearing blood on my skin. “I was worried when you missed sushi, particularly when Anna told me about the wall crushing you. Were you unconscious somewhere with amnesia?” Her eyes twinkled as she waxed dramatic.

I sighed heavily. “Ah, well, I got kidnapped by a luthier. Did Anna tell you about the ogre that kept me from being crushed?”

She raised her brows. “You can’t gloss over a kidnapping that easily. A luthier as in someone who makes instruments?”

Doctor Sultry cleared her throat. “You may wish to wash up before you continue with your visit.”

Libby noticed the mess she was making and got all apologetic and horrified. “I’m so sorry! Let me get tidy, and you too now.” She wrinkled her nose at my hands, but I only shrugged. I’d been on too many battlefields to be squeamish about blood.

Ten minutes later, we were settled into a little café inside the laboratory, a grow light in the center of the space, bringing sunshine and a little garden oasis into the creepy lab.

“So, tell me about this kidnapper,” she said, eyes dancing.

I started chewing on my bottom lip. “I guess he’s really into politics.”




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