“Yeah, I get it.” I didn’t even try to keep the disgust out of my voice.

“If a patron liked what they heard and saw onstage, they’d pay the owner to arrange a private performance. I went once. I tried to leave, but the patron’s bodyguards had other ideas.” The kid’s voice was nonchalant; the rapid pulse in his throat wasn’t. “The next morning, I told the owner I wasn’t going again. Next time he didn’t ask me—”

“He just charged the patron more and had you kidnapped and delivered.”

“Pretty much.” Talon’s bravado was back. “That’s when I came here. I heard Nathrach took good care of his people and paid well. And last night he and some of the bouncers from the club came after me. I’ve never worked for anyone who’d do that.” He scowled. “Though what he makes me do is almost as bad.”

I didn’t move. “What does he make you do?”

“He’s making me go to college.” The kid was indignant. “It’s actually in my contract. If I don’t go to classes during the day, I don’t get to work at night.” He slouched down in his chair. “So that’s how I ended up in the maestro’s flock of performing songbirds.”

“Talon!”

We both jumped. It was Ronan again. I growled. Talon heard me and grinned. If the maestro did that one more time, I was going to give him a quick and dirty lesson in volume control.

“You’ll be after Piaras,” Ronan yelled. “Go warm up.”

Talon stood and gave the maestro a little mock salute. “Yes, sir. Be right there, sir.” Then the kid muttered something under his breath in Goblin.

It was highly creative and physically impossible. I think. He winked at me. “Later, gorgeous.”

As he made his way to the stage, I saw a tall figure in black robes enter the theatre through a door near the foot of the stage.

Carnades Silvanus.

Two other elves were with him. One looked like a bureaucrat. He was a full head and a half shorter than Carnades, blinking in the dim light as he fidgeted with a pair of spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose. The other elf was more familiar. Not him personally. I didn’t know him, just his type. He entered behind Carnades, not from deference, but to let the senior mage attract all the attention. This one didn’t want to be noticed, either personally or magically. He was using Carnades’s arrogant aura of power to cover whatever magic he was packing. Generally, if someone doesn’t want you to see what they’ve got, it means they’ve got a lot. I’d found that out once or twice the hard way. Today wasn’t going to be my third.

I half turned to Vegard. “The elves with Carnades. Who are they?”

“The little one’s Giles Keril, the elven ambassador to Mid. The other is Taltek Balmorlan. He’s with elven intelligence. Don’t know what he does.”

Which was exactly how Taltek Balmorlan and anyone else who worked for the agency liked it.

I’d done consulting work for elven intelligence. I was recruited by Duke Markus Sevelien, the agency’s chief officer in Mermeia, and I’d only worked with him. That’s exactly the way I liked it. Markus was an up-front and moral sort, which was a rare find in the agency. I’d always wanted to think that Markus sought me out because of my superior seeking skills, but I knew differently. Markus thought my being related to criminals helped me know the criminal mind. I didn’t want to come right out and admit it, but he was right. Truth be told, if it can be picked up, pried off, or in any way pilfered, my family’s made off with it at one time or another. Unfortunately those pilfered goods have occasionally included people. It’s not something I’m proud of, but it’s not something I can deny.

Most of my work for Markus involved finding pilfered elves—diplomats, intelligence agents, assorted nobles. The kind of people the less savory members of my family would love to get their ransom-grubbing hands on. It was gratifying work and I was good at it.

The agency was always looking to acquire fresh talent.

I sat up slowly. Sometimes they acquired without asking the talent.

Carnades spotted me—I’d already seen him—and the tension in the room popped up a couple of notches real quick.

"Ma’am,” Vegard warned.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be good if he will. But if he’s looking for trouble, I will give it to him.”

“I’ve been ordered to sit on you, ma’am,” the Guardian told me. He didn’t sound very enthused about trying.

“I know.” I gave him my best evil grin, then turned back to watching Carnades and his merry minions.

They sat at one of the tables closest to the stage. Piaras had just finished his warm-up.

I tensed, but kept my seat. Me going to Piaras would just get him the wrong kind of attention. He would be performing a sleepsong, but this version wasn’t for a battlefield; it was for a nursery. If Taltek Balmorlan or anyone else in the theatre came to hear a weapon, they were going to be really disappointed. But that didn’t mean we couldn’t let everyone know that messing with Piaras would be a very bad idea.

“Vegard?”

“Ma’am?”

“I know all these Guardians are for me, but could you spare a few to discreetly, but obviously, arrange themselves at the base of the stage when Piaras is singing?”

The big Guardian was instantly beside me. “The boy’s in danger?”

“Not immediately, but someone here might be spellsinger shopping.”

Vegard knew exactly what I meant and growled something that summed up my thoughts perfectly. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you, Vegard.”

“Always my pleasure, ma’am.”

He went to Riston and they spoke quickly in lowered voices. Even I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I didn’t need to. Within half a minute, five fully armed and really good-sized Guardians had arranged themselves around the base of the stage, their broad backs to Piaras, their stony expressions toward the audience. Piaras looked out at me; his eyes widened briefly. I smiled and gave him an encouraging nod. Piaras didn’t know what was wrong, if anything, but he knew that me and the boys had it under control.

Piaras walked to the middle of the stage. He looked out and saw who was in the audience. He didn’t know any of them, but he couldn’t have liked that every eye was on him, anticipating his first note. Piaras closed his eyes and took a breath and let it out. It was shaky. Then he raised his head and resolutely fixed his gaze on the back of the theatre where there was no one staring at him.

Piaras sang without accompaniment. No instrument marred his voice’s pure, unadorned perfection. The words and tune were a soothing lullaby, but flowing beneath them was a depth of power most spellsingers could only dream of. The sleepsong was for a baby, not a battalion, but that didn’t matter. Piaras couldn’t hide his strength. And he had the rapt attention of everyone in the theatre. There had been talking during the other spellsingers’ practices. No one spoke now or even moved. Entirely too many people in that audience had just had their suspicions confirmed. Damn. I couldn’t see the faces of anyone at Carnades Silvanus’s table. But I could see some of the goblins, and I didn’t like the looks Piaras was getting. To them the Guardians were just furniture to be pushed aside or ignored, and Piaras a treat to be taken and enjoyed. In that moment, I understood why Carnades hated goblins.

I didn’t hate goblins, but I could have a momentary change of heart for that bunch.

Piaras finished his song to thunderous applause. One of the goblins gave him a standing ovation. He had the high cheekbones and handsome, angled features of a pure, old-blood goblin. His black eyes were bright as he shouted, “Bravo!”

The bastard.

Piaras left the stage and stopped to confer with Ronan. Two of the Guardians moved closer to him, blocking anyone from access. No one tried. I had to hand it to Mychael’s men—they had the bodyguard thing down pat.

I felt a presence brush my skin like fingertips. I sat perfectly still.

It was Tam.

I couldn’t see him, but I didn’t need to. I could feel him just fine.

“Raine, you shouldn’t be here.”

I gasped at the sudden intimate contact. Tam’s voice brushed against my mind like dark silk.

Vegard looked at me, and I quickly coughed.

“Dry throat,” I rasped at his concerned expression.

Tam and I had spoken mind-to-mind before. Many times.

“Mychael didn’t want me here, either,” I said. “You know I never do as told. Especially when I haven’t been given a good reason. Now what the hell is going on?”

I slouched in my chair. Keep it casual, Raine. I wanted answers from Tam; I didn’t want to tip off Vegard. I turned my head toward the stage as if the human kid up there now running through scales was simply fascinating. My eyes flicked up to the right of the stage, then up to the first dining suite.

There he was. The dining suites were dark and Tam blended in perfectly. My elven eyes could just see him, his beautiful, silvery face silhouetted against the shadows. Vegard was human and if he looked at the suite, he would only see the shadows.

I had promised Mychael I wasn’t going anywhere near Tam. I could keep my promise and talk to Tam at the same time. And I could stay safe while doing it.

“Trust your instincts, Raine. You are not safe here. You’re being watched.”

I kept my face neutral. “By who?”

Tam met my question with silence.

“What have the Khrynsani got on you?”

No response.

“You can’t tell me—or won’t?”

I saw Mychael on the opposite side of the theatre conferring with some newly arrived blue-robed mages. He stopped and looked at me. I gave him a little smile and a wave—and held my breath. He shouldn’t be able to sense me mindspeaking to Tam. If he could, he’d have been over here in an instant. Mychael held my gaze a moment longer, then turned back to the mages.