Page 36 of Ogres Don't Play

“No, no. I get. You sit.” She was awfully eager for me to sit down with my lunch while she disappeared to either get an archangel or just vanish until Driver left.

I took the plates away, breaking the sound spell while I walked over to Driver. “Here you go,” I said, smiling as I set the very full plate on his table. “Do you know much about cooking?”

His expression changed, only for a second, but apparently he hadn’t expected the question. “Some.”

“How do you make eel soup?” I sat down across from him and unwrapped my fork from its paper napkin and checked it to see that it was clean enough.

“Eel soup?” He raised a dark blue brow, darker than his blue skin. “Why?”

“I’m making Magr dinner to thank him for saving my life. He said that he wanted eel soup, with live eels. Where would I get live eels?”

“River dock.” He studied me with a different kind of intensity. “Magr said eel soup? Why? Is hard dish.”

“I guess he likes it.” I shrugged. “Also brain yams and a lamb on a spit, and bone salad.”

He flashed a smile, showing his broken tusk. “You make brain yam?”

“With purple yams. He was very specific.”

He patted my head, which was such a weird thing for an ogre to do before he settled back down to his Empan. “I help. All hard dishes. He play you. You win.”

“Um, thanks?” The enormous ogre was messing with me? Giving me dishes too hard for me to make? Well, I’d show him. Thanks to Driver, if the former commander actually knew how to cook.

The door behind the counter opened and Gavriel came in, dark wings catching on the doorway because they weren’t neatly folded against his back. His hair was also disheveled, dark waves a rat’s nest that he hadn’t bothered to comb, like his wings. I’d never seen him look anything other than perfect, but he’d left the lions when I was seventeen, to serve our allies in various wars all over the world.

When he saw me, he froze and gulped, like I was a ghost. Had he also run away from his duty? That was impossible. He was the most noble, responsible, super stickler Richard called a friend, but things happened.

“Oh, good. There’s an angel. I’m going to talk to him about the Jubilee. You can stay here, and I’ll just sit at this other booth.” I beamed at Driver and then slid into the next booth and began a sound spell around the place.

Gavriel stopped staring at me long enough to rake the rest of the room and the street outside. He narrowed his eyes when he saw Driver, but he didn’t flinch. He certainly knew him by reputation, but didn’t see him as a threat. He walked slowly towards me while I took a large bite of my cheesy stuffed roll. Mm. Ogre or not, this was good food right here.

“Helia told me that a musician wished to speak with me,” he said stiffly, standing beside the booth and looking at the table instead of at me.

“Yes. I’m working with the mayor and the city paper to create a jubilee to celebrate the diversity of Singsong City and its many inhabitants. Please sit.”

He slowly lowered himself onto the bench opposite me, where he could keep his eyes on Driver, and Driver could watch him.

I smiled at Gavriel brightly before I took another bite. He watched me eat, analyzing me with the intensity of an archangel. If I hadn’t been raised with them, I would have broken out in a cold sweat long ago. As it was, I found it difficult to swallow with those intense dark eyes boring into me. I finally finished my bite and asked, “How long have you been in Singsong? I haven’t seen very many angels.” Which was one of the reasons I was here.

He glanced out the window, checking once more on my safety, and then he brushed his hand over the table, bringing his own sound barrier spell to life. “Miracle. It is you, isn’t it?”

I blinked at him. Well, no sense delaying the inevitable. “Yes, but these days I go by Mirabel. Miracle is kind of pretentious. Like I’m a miracle? A miracle of chaos. It’s good to see you, Gavriel. I’m not actually here to talk about the jubilee, althoughif you were willing to play or sing, or do a flight show, I certainly wouldn’t turn you down. I actually want to talk about the goblin attack that I survived the other day.” I shuddered at the memory of the itching, also the fear and pain, and Cutter’s dead body. I didn’t like dead bodies, or I’d still be in the HARPs.

“I see.” He focused on me with even greater intensity than before.

That’s all he said. Right, because I’d come here to talk to him, so he wasn’t going to fill anything in unless I specifically asked. I’d forgotten what talking to an archangel was like. And I’d had the biggest crush on him, wanted to marry him and everything.

I licked my lips and stared at him. “There have been two attempts on my life, and both times, I was saved by ogres. I’ve lost contact with my dad, or I’d ask him.”

He made a slight movement that showed how much he believed that.

I rolled my eyes. “Fine, I ran away because I couldn’t cut it as a HARP, and I didn’t want to get married off to a lion. Happy? Now I’m in the middle of some political issue between ogres and who knows who, and I don’t know why. The ogres won’t tell me anything. I thought you’d have some insight. Is something going on with the HOSTS that would explain someone wanting me dead? If you don’t know, I’d like to hire you to find out. I don’t currently have money unless you want a bag of cursed goblin gold, but eventually…”

I stared at him while he thought, dark brows lowered over dark eyes. He was running through the logistics, the probability, the ethics, the moral implications, and apparently there were a lot. I took a forkful of deliciously gooey heaven and ate while I waited. I needed to put some meat on my bones or Magr wouldn’t trust me to cook him eel soup. Yeah, he was too picky for an ogre. At least Gavriel hadn’t taken one look at me and then stretched his wings and launched at me, carrying me throughthe windows and back to my dad. Could he make the flight to the coast where my dad’s fortress was located in one stretch? Probably. His wings had only filled in along with the rest of him over the years.

He finally looked over at the ogre woman and gestured to her. She hurried out with a plate of what I was having and put it in front of him before she retreated, glancing at Driver as she went. I looked over my shoulder, and he was still there, still eating, and watching Gavriel with the intent eyes of one who thought he could stop an archangel from stealing a musician.

I turned back around and watched Gavriel take a large bite, then I followed suit. He could think while he put something delicious away, maybe to fuel up before a long flight to the coast, carrying extra baggage. I should be heavier, so it was more of an obstacle to carry me away.