I felt like throwing up, Beth gasped, and Nia simply frowned. It couldn’t be Zadona, not her. She wouldn’t do something like this. Not the Zadona I knew, not the little girl sitting on the doorstep waiting for her father to come home. The kind soul who waved at every merchant in town.

  She used to knock on my door every morning and beg me to come outside and play. Zadona wasn’t a murderer. But who else could it be? How many Kanta elves were named Zadona and lived in Adelbern? In all the thirty kingdoms united under the Straborian flag, save for Kanta, there were probably only twenty Kanta elves.

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  Greenspring looked around the room, his brow furrowed. “Do you know of this Zadona?”

  “She was our friend,” said Beth, her face drained of all color. “She asked Norman to go to Adelbern. That’s why we’re here.”

  A thousand thoughts ran through my head, but all of them were too incoherent to speak them aloud. How was I going to perform tonight? I looked over at Beth, who seemed to be feeling just as lost as I was. Before Zadona left, Beth and Zadona had been the best of friends. If I was feeling surprised by the news that our friend tried to kill Greenspring, she must have been crushed.

  “Maybe I am wrong,” said Greenspring, hanging his head.

  “We’ll know when we get to Adelbern,” said Nia. “Making assumptions is only going to drive us mad. Norman, do you think your friend is a killer?”

  I frowned. It had been years since I last saw Zadona. Could she be a killer?

  “No,” Beth answered before I could.

  “No,” I repeated. All it took for me to be convinced was to hear Beth say it.

  “There you go,” said Nia, throwing up her hands. “All we know is that someone is hunting druids. That’s what we need to focus on.”

  Greenspring made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “No, that is what I need to focus on. Continue your trip to Adelbern. You do not need to worry about an old man such as myself.”

  “You aren’t that old,” replied Nia.

  His eyes twinkled with mirth. “So you say.”

  A knock on the door made us all jump. “Norman, you ready?” asked Keziah through the door.

  I reached behind me to touch Kingmaker. Never had I refused to perform. Every performance was a chance to show my worth, a chance to make my master proud. Playing with half my heart in it was blasphemy. Even the idea of it made my soul ache. Still, I wasn’t looking forward to digging through our purses for money for our room.

  “I—”

  “He’ll be out in a few minutes,” said Beth.

  I raised my eyebrow, but didn’t argue with her. As Keziah’s footsteps disappeared down the hall, Beth turned to me with stars in her eyes. “We’ll do it together.”

  “Together? But we’ve—”

  “I know,” said Beth, interrupting me for the second time. “But I also know you. If you can’t do it alone, then we’ll do it together.”

  My heart swelled with pride. I made no attempt to hide how happy I was, grinning from ear to ear. Beth smiled back at me, lighting up the room with her beauty. All thoughts of Zadona were swept out of my mind. What use was there in worrying? There were songs to play and crowds to please.

  With a newfound fervor, I grabbed Beth’s hands and began babbling about ideas for our performance. Years and years of ideas about such an event spilled out of my mouth. Her smile slowly fell the more I talked, before she could bear it no longer and had to stop me.

  “Norman,” said Beth, placing her hands on my shoulders. “Relax! You tell me what to do and I’ll follow your lead. After all, how hard could it be?”

  I winced. If I had said something like that to Piopus he would have slapped me. As it was, I held my tongue. Compared to an angry Piopus, an angry Beth was a nightmare. A beautiful nightmare, but a nightmare I tried to avoid as much as possible. Instead of answering, I nodded.

  “Will you two be alright up here?” I asked, turning to Nia and Greenspring.

  “Are you kidding?” asked Greenspring, sitting up straighter in bed. “There is no way I am going to miss this.”

  Nia smirked. “I’ll help the geezer downstairs. You focus on doing your best.”

  “Better,” I replied, grabbing Beth’s hands. “We’ll do better than my best.”

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Once Beth and I were downstairs, I started to get nervous. It’d been years since my last duo performance. Other bards rarely traveled to Xalir and fewer stayed long enough to perform at our local tavern. I only put up with the best, and the only bard I knew that lived up to my standards was my former master, Piopus.

  I strummed the strings on my mandolin, trying to think of the best way to utilize Beth. To be honest, I was drawing a blank. Even though I dreamed of such an event for years, putting it into reality was difficult. Could she sing? Maybe dance while I performed? We didn’t have another instrument, but I didn’t think Beth knew any instruments as it was.

  Beth seemed to be feeling her own nerves. She bounced from foot to foot, walking around the tables. When she reached one end of the tavern, she turned around and walked to the other. It was too difficult to watch.

  “Are you sure you can do this?” I asked once she was close.

  She nodded nervously. “Of course, after all, you do this.”

  “Yes, but I’ve been doing this for years. You don’t have to do this if it’s going to be too much for you.”

  “I want to do this,” she replied. All traces of her nerves were gone as she stopped in her tracks and stared at me firmly. Nodding at her, I gestured toward the fireplace where we would be performing. In my experience, it was always better to perform next to the warmest part of the room. But maybe I got cold too easily.

  While we discussed our plans for the night, the hunters arrived. Rough-looking men and women of all shapes and sizes shambled through the door. Many of them were covered in dirt, with stray leaves or twigs stuck in their hair. You could tell who had a good day of hunting or not by their demeanor. When they noticed Beth and me, they appeared to be curious, but not as excited as I would have liked.

  Appearing as relaxed as I could, I pulled a chair closer to the fire and sat down. Occasionally, I would glance up from tuning my mandolin and give a few nods to the people coming in. Beth went around and introduced herself to every person that entered the tavern. This was all part of our plan.

  See, people love two things about performers: familiarity and mystery. Before you even play your first song, you have to build a persona based on one of those two traits. I tend to lean more toward familiarity. Appearing as a friendly face helps open up people’s wallets. Painting yourself as a mysterious stranger tends to bring people back. They want to find out more.

  With Beth, I could play both sides of the same coin. Already I could feel an excited energy bounce around the room. People whispered amongst each other, pointing at me with curious expressions. Others gravitated toward Beth, offering drinks or a seat at their table. Of course, they could be doing that because she was a pretty face. I mentally shrugged, either way was fine.

  Once the gentle stream of visitors slowed down, Beth pulled up a chair next to me and sat down. I grinned, my face hidden by my straw hat. This was the moment I had been waiting for a long time. Carefully, I placed my fingers on the proper strings and began to play. Beth took a deep breath and stood up.

  My knight, dear knight,

  why don’t you rescue me?

  I wish to see your face,

  but you’re so far across the sea.

  As Beth sang, I transformed her home sewn dress into an elegant ball gown. Her hair appeared to grow, braiding itself with all kinds of beautiful flowers mixed in. Her dress sparkled, making her look like an angel coming down from the heavens. Of course, it was all an illusion, but only a few in the tavern could recognize it for what it was. The others were astounded.

  Chandeliers descended from the ceiling, while the floor became pristine. I tried to transform the tavern into an elegant ballroom. Since I had never seen a ballroom, I instead recreated the entrance hall of the harska fortress. If anyone noticed, they never said anything about it. Beth walked to the center of the room, turning back to me with a wide smile on her face.

  Dragons, wizards, gnomes,

  nothing will stop my knight.

  Using his magic sword,

  he will win the fight!

  Beth’s voice was also enhanced by my magic, making it sound clearer and more pronounced. But I wasn’t the only one casting spells. Greenspring had snuck downstairs with Nia. Both of them sat at the back of the tavern. Unnoticed by those around him, Greenspring created small cherry blossoms on his fingertips. Throwing them into the air, they floated around Beth as she sang.

  Even though Beth drew all eyes in the room, mine drifted. Near the door, a hooded figure stood with folded arms. They tapped their finger against their arm, keeping in time with the beat. Small bumps in the side of their hood told me they were an elf. As Beth turned, light reflected off her dress toward the figure. For a brief moment, I saw the crying face of the figure.

  Red eyes, brown skin, white hair. My own eyes watered, though I never stopped playing. Was it sadness? Joy? I couldn’t tell. All I knew was that I had seen that look one time in my life. Zadona had made that face when she left. A pained expression that failed to communicate the complicated emotions held beneath.

  As we finished the song, applause erupted around the room. It made me jump, causing my eyes to drift away from the figure. When I turned back, she was gone. Zadona was gone again. I shook my head. No, it couldn’t be her. I was fooling myself with my own illusions. After a quick stretch, and a glance toward Beth to make sure she was ready, I started up the next song.

  By the end of the night, we had drained the wallet of every hunter in the room. While I knew Beth could sing, I never guessed that she could perform. Every song she sang was a masterpiece, helped in no small part by my mandolin. Even so, I couldn’t help but think about Zadona. I didn’t tell Beth about what I had seen, she didn’t need to worry more than she already was.

  “Excellent performance, my dear,” said Greenspring, grinning from ear to ear. “I thought Norman was the bard, but it appeared I was mistaken.”

  Nia laughed before throwing back her tenth mug of the night. Whatever she said next came out as gibberish. Beth gave a bashful smile, taking the compliments as gracefully as she could. I threw in my own compliments as well. She deserved every bit of it. We celebrated long into the night until everyone passed out. Everyone but me.

  Staring out the window, I thought about the journey I was on. Last time I had been so far from home, my thoughts had been filled with a desire to save my daughter and my brother. Now, my thoughts were filled with Zadona. It was a less noble goal, answering a letter received from a long lost friend. Still, in my mind, it had the same importance.

  Sighing, I laid down next to Beth and closed my eyes. It was a cold, overcast night. As such, no light came through the windows. In the darkness, I heard the gentle breathing of my friends and my wife. The heat of her body was the only warmth I felt that night. She was there, and that was enough.