Page 29 of Badmouths & Bards

At least, that’s what Seira had conveyed. The results of the ring would take a week, but Tala wasn’t going to waste time. Over the course of a few days, she interviewed the two bards as often as their schedules would allow.

Face was apparently a bit of an insomniac, so catching him during the day could be challenging from time to time. Seira was helpful, but most of her energy was being siphoned by the castle—or whoever the fuck was responsible for organizing the event her boys would be headlining in a few months.

As a result, Tala found herself mostly interviewing Crop Top. That was how she found herself sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table with a bunch of scattered parchment and a half empty inkwell. Most of the ink was on her rough fingers from her messy writing.

“You’re lying,” she said.

There was no way Tala had heard him correctly. She could only stare in disbelief at Crop Top’s easygoing grin.

“Nope,” he said, dipping his fingers into the glass container that held the small stingray. It pushed against his fingers—most likely looking for food.

“There’s no way you performed in an active volcano.”

It sounded even more far fetched when Tala said it out loud. A long winded story that a drunk patron would feed whoever was willing to listen. Yet, Crop Top only chuckled, offering a small shrimp to the stingray.

“Swear to the Water Mother,” he said. “Granted, Casi and I didn’t know it was active when we agreed to do the show. Seira usually books our events a year in advance unless a ruler of a nation sends us an invitation.”

Right, less bullshit, more focus, Tala shook her head.

“And you were invited by King Oryin’vel?”

“Yup,” Crop Top pulled his hand free of the enclosure, “Seira knows more about the details, but he requested we perform in a few months. Casi and I were supposed to be out on sea during that time but…”

His gaze went toward the bedroom, the door open a small crack. Face had excused himself after the pair had given Tala some details on their daydreamers. There was no way to count how many there were, only that they were very vocal and a core set of them followed Cashmere Fantasy no matter where they went. Honestly, they sounded pretty hardcore to Tala.

Or codependent, Tala thought. Kind of like them.

Crop Top had been the first to suggest Face should rest. Even Tala had noticed the darker circles under his near perfect face. It did bring up a few questions, but Tala shelved them. They weren’t as important as narrowing her list of fans to keep an eye out for.

Based on the amount of names—which weren’t really names, so much as physical descriptions of various denizens from all ages, ancestry, and backgrounds—their admirer could have been anyone. The only thread Tala had to follow was they were all obsessed with the two bards, and they had access to money—or magic.

Gold would explain how a certain amount of their fans were able to follow them from one continent to the next. Magic would explain how they were able to follow so closely without notice. Which lead Tala to another question…

“So…” Tala stared at the door, “what’s the deal?”

Crop Top was in the process of evaporating the water from his arm, but his gaze was still heavily set on the door.

“What’s what deal?”

“With Fa—ugh,” Tala shook her head. “With him. Why’d he clam up when I started asking questions about your avid fans?”

For once, Crop Top was quiet. The silence would have shocked Tala if she hadn’t been concentrating on his facial expressions. Tala hadn’t been lying when she said she remembered faces more than names. The more she saw a face, the easier it was to read with time. Where that particular skill set had come from, she couldn’t say. Or maybe she just didn’t want to.

“It’s…complicated.”

The word was loaded, that much Tala knew for certain. For the short time she had been on assignment, the two were rarely quiet. If they weren’t chatting insistently in her ear, they were singing. When they weren’t doing that, they were usually whispering while stealing conspiratorial glances at her that she usually met with a middle finger.

Quiet wasn’t a word she would ever associate with either of them.

“Complicated in the sense of something I gotta keep an eye out for?” When he stayed quiet, Tala tutted. “C’mon. No secret bullshit, especially if it’s dangerous stuff.”

Not her most persuasive argument, but the point was still there. If something was going on behind the scenes, Tala needed to know what. Especially if whatever it was directly endangered them and, in turn, endangered her position with the Valiant Circle.

“Before we were summoned, we were wrapping up a tour in Bezlaun,” Crop Top said, softly.

Tala knew of Bezlaun from her studies, but she had never visited. It was a country on the continent of Kerth, somewhere in the north. Snow was all Tala could honestly remember about it outside of where it was.

“We were stopping at some inn for the night between shows. I can’t remember the name, some small place on the edge of town,” Crop Top scratched the back of his head. “But it was late when we got in—late enough that Seira couldn’t book our usual rooms. We were on a lower floor and…”