wilderness.”
“You’re not much of a man.”
Was she trying to nettle him? “Not much,” he agreed.
“And you’re supposed to lead a Quest?”
“It wasn’t my idea.”
“The Good Magician enlisted you, you said. You must have some quality he respects. What is it?”
“I understand he said I have gumption.”
She considered. “Maybe you do. You walked away from me.”
He was surprised. “You respect that?”
“Yes. No man who has seen my curves ever just walked away. I had to change forms to get rid of them.”
“Gumption,” he repeated. “Well, that and a tame ogre will keep me safe at night, and I don’t have an ogre.” He thought of something else. “And you did change forms, so maybe it doesn’t count.”
She pondered briefly. “If you’re supposed to lead this Quest, and I need the Quest to achieve my wish, and I’m supposed to be your Companion, then I guess it’s up to me to keep you safe, if you get eaten by something during the night, the Quest will fade away.”
“You don’t have to do anything for me,” he snapped. “I’ll figure something out.”
“There’s that gumption again. You’re going to go your own way, and damn the torpedoes.” She smiled briefly. “Not that I have any idea what a torpedo is. But at the moment it’s foolish. You need to do something to ensure your comfort and safety, and you’re not getting it done.”
“If you’re quite through embarrassing me, what do you have in mind?”
She smiled again; it seemed to be becoming a habit. “I doubt I’m through doing that. There must be something you can do, if only we can think of it. Otherwise the Good Magician would not have entrusted you with the Quest.”
“I suppose.”
“Maybe your talent relates. You conjure musical instruments?”
“Yes. But I can’t play them, so it’s not worth much.”
“I wonder. I’ve always wanted to play the kit, because it sounds like my nature, but never had one to practice with. Can you conjure me one?”
“What’s a kit?”
“It’s a very small violin, easy to carry around.”
“Oh.” Hapless focused. The kit appeared in his hand, together with its bow. “Here.”
“Lovely.” She took it, put the base of it to her chin, and stroked the bow across the strings. A perfect note sounded.
She paused, surprised. Then she launched into a tune. It was perfectly rendered and quite evocative. She really could play!
When the song ended, she shook her head. “This must be a magic instrument. I’ve had no practice; I know I can’t play this well on my own.”
“My instruments do play well,” he agreed. “Except when I try them. Then they reek. It’s maddening.”
“Can you conjure another kit?”
He shrugged and conjured another. Now there were two.
“Try playing it.”
He grimaced, then put bow to string. A gut-wrenchingly sour note sounded.
Feline winced. “I see what you mean. That is world-class discordance. You have no musical talent.”
“Yes. Only musical ambition. If I can only find the right instrument for me, then as you say, they are magic, and it would play well for me. I’ve tried everything I can think of, but the result is always awful.”
“Maybe that one is cursed. Let’s exchange instruments.”
They exchanged, but it didn’t change the music: she played beautifully, and he played abysmally.
“Well, now we know,” she said. “It seems the same instruments that are enchanted to play well for others, are enchanted to play ill for you. I appreciate your frustration.”
“Yes,” he agreed shortly. “So what does this have to do with my being safe for the night?”
“I had thought maybe music soothes the savage beast.”
“That’s breast, not beast. Everybody gets it wrong.”
“I apologize. It’s clear that you won’t be soothing any breasts or beasts with your music.” Then a bulb flashed over her head. “But maybe that’s your answer: when a beast comes, play for it.”
“Play for it? Why?
“You’re not much of a man.”
Was she trying to nettle him? “Not much,” he agreed.
“And you’re supposed to lead a Quest?”
“It wasn’t my idea.”
“The Good Magician enlisted you, you said. You must have some quality he respects. What is it?”
“I understand he said I have gumption.”
She considered. “Maybe you do. You walked away from me.”
He was surprised. “You respect that?”
“Yes. No man who has seen my curves ever just walked away. I had to change forms to get rid of them.”
“Gumption,” he repeated. “Well, that and a tame ogre will keep me safe at night, and I don’t have an ogre.” He thought of something else. “And you did change forms, so maybe it doesn’t count.”
She pondered briefly. “If you’re supposed to lead this Quest, and I need the Quest to achieve my wish, and I’m supposed to be your Companion, then I guess it’s up to me to keep you safe, if you get eaten by something during the night, the Quest will fade away.”
“You don’t have to do anything for me,” he snapped. “I’ll figure something out.”
“There’s that gumption again. You’re going to go your own way, and damn the torpedoes.” She smiled briefly. “Not that I have any idea what a torpedo is. But at the moment it’s foolish. You need to do something to ensure your comfort and safety, and you’re not getting it done.”
“If you’re quite through embarrassing me, what do you have in mind?”
She smiled again; it seemed to be becoming a habit. “I doubt I’m through doing that. There must be something you can do, if only we can think of it. Otherwise the Good Magician would not have entrusted you with the Quest.”
“I suppose.”
“Maybe your talent relates. You conjure musical instruments?”
“Yes. But I can’t play them, so it’s not worth much.”
“I wonder. I’ve always wanted to play the kit, because it sounds like my nature, but never had one to practice with. Can you conjure me one?”
“What’s a kit?”
“It’s a very small violin, easy to carry around.”
“Oh.” Hapless focused. The kit appeared in his hand, together with its bow. “Here.”
“Lovely.” She took it, put the base of it to her chin, and stroked the bow across the strings. A perfect note sounded.
She paused, surprised. Then she launched into a tune. It was perfectly rendered and quite evocative. She really could play!
When the song ended, she shook her head. “This must be a magic instrument. I’ve had no practice; I know I can’t play this well on my own.”
“My instruments do play well,” he agreed. “Except when I try them. Then they reek. It’s maddening.”
“Can you conjure another kit?”
He shrugged and conjured another. Now there were two.
“Try playing it.”
He grimaced, then put bow to string. A gut-wrenchingly sour note sounded.
Feline winced. “I see what you mean. That is world-class discordance. You have no musical talent.”
“Yes. Only musical ambition. If I can only find the right instrument for me, then as you say, they are magic, and it would play well for me. I’ve tried everything I can think of, but the result is always awful.”
“Maybe that one is cursed. Let’s exchange instruments.”
They exchanged, but it didn’t change the music: she played beautifully, and he played abysmally.
“Well, now we know,” she said. “It seems the same instruments that are enchanted to play well for others, are enchanted to play ill for you. I appreciate your frustration.”
“Yes,” he agreed shortly. “So what does this have to do with my being safe for the night?”
“I had thought maybe music soothes the savage beast.”
“That’s breast, not beast. Everybody gets it wrong.”
“I apologize. It’s clear that you won’t be soothing any breasts or beasts with your music.” Then a bulb flashed over her head. “But maybe that’s your answer: when a beast comes, play for it.”
“Play for it? Why?
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