The Beast

Chapter Sixteen

The one time his gaze even flinched from her was when he felt a sharp pain in his arm that felt like a familiar peck, and as he moved to inspect the perpetrator the music came to a sudden stop. He looked up again immediately, only to see that the graceful girl had vanished, not a red hair in sight. It was almost as though she had never been there in the first place.

Ylvir looked back down at Dandy who was tucked in the folds of his dark cloak, frowning at the hen. "That was hardly necessary."

She simply clucked and stuck her head out of the cloak for fresh air, only to have it gently pushed back in by Ylvir.

"Later, I promise. But for now, stay."

He lifted his head again, seeing most of the crowd had already dispersed. But the musicians were still there, one of them passing a small basket amongst themselves. When he looked closer, he saw that they were each removing a small number of gold pieces from it, and that they each wore a gold symbol brandished on some article of clothing. Making a few connections, he was struck by an idea, and he approached the small band.

"Remember everyone, same time, same place tomorrow," said the lanky man holding the basket as the others walked away. Ylvir addressed him.

"Excuse me," he spoke, startling the man as he jumped from fright.

"Oh dear me," he said, wiping at his brow with a grubby handkerchief he pulled from his loose, green vest. "Gave me a proper scare, you did. Anyway, how can I help you, er..."

"Ylvir. I was wondering if I might join your band," he tried to sound confident.

The man eyed him narrowly. "You new around here, Ylvir was it?"

He nodded.

"Ah, that explains it. See we're not a band," the man explained.

"But you were playing together."

"Yes, indeed. But that doesn't make us a band, necessarily. What we are is a guild--a musicians guild," he elaborated, pointing to the golden symbol on his vest that Ylvir could now see was pinned on like a brooch. "We do much the same things as a band, but we're not one."

Ylvir was confused, to say the least. "Well then, might I join your guild?"

"Depends," the vested man said. "Can you play?"

Ylvir nodded once more, pulling out his beloved penny whistle. After some internal debate, he decided to play a song his father taught him. It was the very first one he had heard him play, short and sweet, but put all his skills on display. When he finished the lanky man nodded, looking thoughtful. Ylvir stood uncomfortably, nervous for what the man might next say. His fears were put to rest, however, when the man gave him a brilliant smile.

"Yes, that was very nice, but you know, you might sound better if you didn't play with the gloves. Not that you sound bad, mind you, but there's always room for improvement, and if you can play that well with gloves, I can only imagine how good you sound without."

Ylvir faltered at that, blurting out the first excuse he could think of, which was, "I get cold hands."

The man regarded him strangely, but then shrugged, putting Ylvir at ease again, until he asked another question. "Do you get cold a lot? I mean, you must be wearing a lot of layers, and you sound sick. Are you?"

Ylvir hesitated, but gave a short nod, deciding it would be a good cover for his disguise. He referred it though when the man donned a panicked look.

"It's not contagious is it? Because if it is, I'm sorry, but no matter how well you play, I can't let you join. It'd put too many of us at risk, and I simply cannot allow that."

Ylvir shook his head vigorously, immediately dismissing the idea. "No, no! It's not contagious. I've, er, had it ever since I can remember, and no one else has ever gotten it."

It was almost funny, Ylvir thought bitterly. His new imaginary sickness sounded much like his very real lifelong curse. He knew it had been the right thing to say, though, when the man visibly relaxed, but he was still obviously wary when he next spoke.

"You're absolutely sure?"

Ylvir nodded firmly. "Yes."

The man straightened himself and held out a hand. "Welcome to the Musicians' Guild, Ylvir. As a new member, you'll be provided with room and board, and a small salary, in exchange for your participation in certain events as well as a small percentage of any payment you receive for independent work. Do you accept?"

It was even better than Ylvir had hoped for. He took the man's hand rather forcefully, shaking it happily. "I do!"

The man winced, but smiled. "Glad to have you, Ylvir. Now if you'll follow me, we'll get the paperwork done and make things official. Oh, the name's Triel, by the way. Just remembered I forgot to introduce myself."

Ylvir smiled. "Pleased to meet you Triel."

"Likewise," he nodded, then turned on his heel. "This way."

And with that, Ylvir began the next part of his adventure, already integrating himself in the Port's community. Perhaps with the guild, he would catch sight of the red haired dancer again. He certainly hoped so.