Song For The Basilisk by Patricia A. McKillip

Author:Patricia A. McKillip
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2012-07-22T12:47:44+00:00

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EIGHT

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WHICH IS INTERESTING AS FAR AS IT GOES,” Hexel said, “but I can’t get it farther than that. She is in love. He is in love. Lovers are only interesting to one another. He sings of love. She sings of love. What else is there to sing about?”

“Clothes.”

“Giulia, are you paying attention?”

Giulia stopped roaming Hexel’s cluttered study. She stooped to pick up a stray sheet of music on the floor. “Now I am,” she said firmly, trying to convince herself. She had not seen Justin for days, except very briefly, for moments snatched away from her duties. He did not complain; he, too, seemed preoccupied, but by what she could not guess. Another woman seemed most probable. But, she thought, I would guess that.

“What are you thinking about?” Hexel demanded. “You are not listening to me.”

“I was thinking of Damiet,” Giulia answered, which was another perplexing worry: Hexel knew her only by Giulia’s tales; he had not yet heard her. He grimaced.

“Bad enough she must sing my music, must she also occupy my study?”

“She wants me to find her a picochet, so that the librarian can teach her to play it.”

“Is she still in love with him?” Hexel asked promptly, on the scent of a plot.

“She watches him come and go while she sings. She sulks when she doesn’t see him. She asks his advice about her singing, as if I am only there to turn pages. She dresses for him, and is offended when he doesn’t notice.”

“And he?”

“He doesn’t notice.” She frowned, gazing absently at the manuscript sheet, which had a dusty footprint across it, and a message, not written in Hexel’s hand, in the margin. “He is polite.”

“He loves someone else.”

“I don’t think love is on his mind at all. He seems oblivious of Damiet’s state. He should be careful. Damiet Pellior rejected by the music librarian could be dangerous.”

“Her father will put an end to it soon enough.”

“Her father hardly seems to notice her state, either. He told Veris to have Master Caladrius give her lessons.”

Hexel, seated at his desk with a scribble of notes in front of him, rapped his pen impatiently on the paper. “What kind of a plot is this? It is completely useless. A love unrequited, a beloved who pays no attention, a father who does not care—Give me something to sing about.”

Giulia was silent, trying to think. The message on the music sheet resolved itself under her gaze: Magister Barr, I no longer find it possible to hide my feelings for you. My heart is in tumult. Only you can give me peace. Meet me… “Hexel—”

“I’ve finished a duet about their perilous and passionate love. They meet at night, in secret. They sing, they part. Now what?”

“Someone sees them.”

“His family or hers?”

“How much singing to you want Damiet to do? Hexel, did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Meet Cressida under the orange tree at midnight?”

“What Cressida? What orange tree? Giulia, try to keep your mind on my work. The families are

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