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I put on the apron and took a tray out to table three.
“I’m so glad you came in for an extra shift,” Rynne’s mom said with a wide smile, trying to coax Ma’am Granite to get off the piano. The eighty-year-old was flashing her knees at anyone who wanted to see them, which was probably nobody. Okay, one ancient guy looked vaguely interested, but he shouldn’t ogle people on pianos. “Your mom is so happy that you’re going to a good school. She tells everyone all about it.”
“I’m sure.” Repeatedly, because she wouldn’t remember who she’d told what to.
I smiled at the customers, put out their order with the familiar rhythm that almost managed to distract me from my rapidly pounding heart as I remembered Percy’s eyes, the lie of hope that he’d put in them just so I would feel guilty for giving him flesh-craving bugs.
“Gabby! Come sing a song!” Ma’am Granite called me, kicking her legs and narrowly missing Rynne’s mom’s head. I knew a little piano, because she’d taught me a long time ago. When she got like this, she wouldn’t stop until she had her way, so I went around the piano bar and sat down at the keys.
“What shall we do, Ma’am Granite?” I called, trying to sound cheerful. Did I feel like singing, or would it remind me of Percy, of singing with him onstage as I’d done every Friday for the last two months? He didn’t get to sour my favorite things, so I pounded out a few chords without waiting for her answer. She joined in on the first chorus of the horribly weird ballad, Polly Von, about some girl that her idiot boyfriend mistook for a swan, so he shot her. There was something disturbingly satisfying about singing about people even more stupid than I was.
After I was done, most people cheered, so I mock curtsied and then helped get Ma’am Granite off the piano, careful so that she didn’t break a hip, and then settled her on the bench, where she’d play songs until she fell asleep, then I went to get the next order from the kitchen. On my way, I glanced at the bar and saw my dad sitting with all the Friday night usuals, with a very expensive glass of light juice in front of him. It wasn’t remotely alcoholic, but very magical. One of the best elixirs you could get from King Court, the biggest brand of elixirs, and the biggest chain of apothecaries in the country. Hopefully, he wouldn’t end up on top of the piano tonight.
I ignored him for a few minutes, but then Rynne glared hard at me from her place behind the bar and nodded in his direction.
I went over and sat on the bar to his right. “Hey. I didn’t know you liked sushi.”
“I don’t particularly. You intentionally eluded your bodyguards today.”
Ah. “I never technically agreed to having bodyguards, and I had something to do.”
“You publicly attacked Percival. You could have brought your bodyguards with you for that.”
“How am I supposed to sneak with four bodyguards? Not possible, and it was important that I make a statement.”
“What statement was that?”
“That he’s vile bug-bait and I won’t sit by and be lied to without any kind of retribution.”
“Are you always so enthusiastically vengeful?” He took a slow sip of his elixir, winced, then put it down. He was not going to drink enough to get lit. Just as well.
“Not really, it’s just that he’s so handsome, and so vile,” I spat while Rynne raised a brow, clearly listening even though she was trying not to.
“If he were ugly and vile, it would be more bearable?”
I shrugged. “Why are you here instead of the bodyguards?”
“I thought I would be more subtle, and I wanted to check on you. What magic did you use on those insects?”
“Just a basic animation spell I pulled up online. I did ask my mom what to do to make it more effective.”
He raised a brow. “And what did she say?”
“That urine doesn’t really go with bugs. Who knew?”
He flinched like he’d just stepped on a particularly juicy, disgusting bug. “Well, at the rate they are consuming our dear, vile bug-bait, soon you won’t have anyone left to unleash your vengeance on.”
I slid off the bench and grabbed his arm. “What are you talking about? Percy is perfectly capable of fighting off bugs. He’s done it before.”
“But this time, he’s fighting for the bug’s rights to consume him, spelling everyone who would assist him away, so that he can enjoy the torment you so graciously bestowed upon him to its fullest extent. He is accepting your punishment with perfect humility.”
“Percy wouldn’t know humility if it bit him in the face.”
“On the contrary. He has named the bugs, and calls one humility, and it has bitten him in the face several times.”
I stared at him for a long time. No way Percy could be so obstinate and idiotic. He was supposed to be plotting his revenge, not naming my bugs virtues and taking his punishment.
My dad took another sip of the incredibly expensive elixir, then set it down and shook his head. “It’s best mixed with juice. I prefer three parts pomegranate with a dash of chlorophyl for the greatest color.”
