Sofi and the Bone Song by Adrienne Tooley

Author:Adrienne Tooley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Margaret K. McElderry Books
Published: 2022-04-19T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

Thanks to a poor night’s sleep and an early start, they made it to Rusham before lunchtime, a kind-eyed local pointing them in the direction of the Fair Fellows. There Sofi managed to convince the innkeeper to agree to a two-hour set—the exact length of their newly composed “Song of Spring”—in exchange for two rooms. After three nights on the ground, Sofi needed a mattress.

They spent most of the day napping—the wilderness had echoed with too many unidentifiable noises for a restful slumber the night before. While Sofi had been huddled next to Lara, she’d found herself desperate for her own bed in a quiet room, away from the tension and closeness and awareness of her body pressed against Lara’s. But now that she was alone, she found herself missing Lara’s warmth and the comforting sound of her tiny snores.

When the sun began to slip down in the afternoon sky, there was a knock on Sofi’s door. Before she could shout, “Come in,” Lara had entered, looking infuriatingly refreshed. Sofi hadn’t even had a chance to change. She sat up quickly.

“Did I wake you?” Lara flopped onto the edge of Sofi’s bed. “The sun is starting to set, and I want to run through the song once more.” She yawned widely.

“Where’s your lute?”

Lara laughed. “Still in my room. I didn’t even think to bring it. Clearly I’m still waking up.” She slapped herself lightly on her cheek. “Can I just borrow yours?”

Sofi hoisted her lute’s case up and onto the bed between them. She pulled out her instrument and automatically tucked it into the crook of her arm. She tested the strings, tweaking the pegs until it was perfectly in tune. Then she handed it over to Lara.

“Now remember, there’s that turn from the fourth verse to the chorus that repeats again after verse sixteen,” Sofi said, settling back into her role as songwriter and conductor. “And don’t forget that the seventh line in the bridge is ‘it headed back from whence it came,’ not ‘it went on back from where it came.’”

Lara snorted. “Of course. We wouldn’t want to horrify our audience with such a ghastly mistake.”

Sofi rolled her eyes fondly. With Lara sitting beside her on the bed, she found herself thinking again about the poet in Skaal. His artificial talent had radiated about him like cheap cologne. But Lara’s performances were subtle and sophisticated. Perhaps Sofi was wrong and there was no magic there at all. Perhaps Lara had been telling the truth that her talent was a miracle granted by the saints. As for the flower that had burst forth from the snow, well, there was surely some logical explanation there, too.

Sofi crossed her arms, drumming her fingers on the soft skin above her elbows. A miracle was just as disappointing as magic. Either way, it proved that hard work did not always triumph the way her father had once insisted.

She glanced over at Lara, who had not yet begun the song. “What are you waiting for?” she asked, frowning as she took in Lara’s look of consternation.

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