Gail Carson Levine - Fairest by Fairest

Gail Carson Levine - Fairest by Fairest

Author:Fairest
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-09-27T18:02:30+00:00


245

He cleared his throat again. "To be exact, you can do more than that for us."

I wiped my eyes. "Yes?"

"We would love to hear you sing. I have spoken of your voice ever since I first heard it. But also, I know of no human songs about us, so . . . would you compose a few?"

I wrote a letter to Mother and Father, telling all. zhamM gave it to a messenger and also dispatched two gnome armorers to Ontio Castle. While displaying their newest swords and shields, the armorers would see how news of my death had been received and whether Ivi retained her former power.

"You may stay here as long as you like, Maid azacH," zhamM said. "But it's best to know where matters stand."

I wanted to ask the armorers to take note of Ijori-if he seemed to mourn me or if he seemed untroubled. But then I remembered I didn't care.

I wrote a series of songs about living with the gnomes. The song making saved me from despondency and anguish. I couldn't think of Ivi or Ijori without rage or pain. Writing songs was better.

My first song was about zhamM and what he meant to me. I sang it at a dinner in the Banquet Hall. I was hardly nervous. Compared with my feelings the first time I sang at

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the castle, I was as calm as a tree. zhamM had promised that everyone would love my singing, and I believed him.

As I sang, I discovered how gnomes blush-the tip of zhamM's bulbous nose turned violet.

"widyeH zhamM, the green gentleman, to be exact, came many times to our inn. He said my hair was htun, and htun, he said, was beautiful. I was ugly, he said I was. I knew I was. He called all humans ugly, to be exact. I was uglier than the rest, but he thought not. The green gentleman thought not.

"If I leave here ever, if I come back never, I will know that there ishtun,and it is beautiful. Beautiful, to be exact.

"widyeH zhamM, the greengentleman,to be exact, saw I'd come, danger on my shoulder. He didn't

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call me cousin then. Pebbles here are worth coaches home. Footstools are worth castles. Castles, to be exact. Today, the green gentleman called me cousin. I can't see htun without his hand. But he called me cousin. Cousin, to be exact.

"If I leave here ever, if I come back never, I wilt, tytow that there is zhamM and he is priceless. Priceless, to be exact."

My next song described the magnificence of Gnome Caverns. At the entrance to the Banquet Hall, for example, a milky rock tower rose, perhaps fifteen times my height. In clusters around the chamber were delicate rock straws that extended, thinner than my pinkie, from floor to ceiling.

The only aspect of the Banquet Hall I omitted from my song was the food. I yearned for more variety than what is dug up from the ground. After a week I would have given my golden plate for a leg of chicken, a scone, a bowl of fruit.



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