In The Coils Of The Snake (37 page)

The elf King
followed Seylin’s gaze. There sat Miranda, sun, rounded by the children,
playing an old elf singing game. Opponents took turns singing the first verse
of a song until someone ran
out of choices
or forgot the words. Miranda was playing against all
the children and holding her own very well. just
now she was singing
in German, her clear, sweet voice competing with
Galnar’s playing in the meadow. She couldn’t have looked happier, but the elf
King remembered a night when he had dragged home a terrified, furious girl and
enchanted her to force her into a way of life she dreaded.
And that frightened girl had told him that he was
even worse than
a goblin.

Miranda was deep in
a vigorous rendition of Beethoven’s “Ode
to
joy” when her husband jerked her to her feet and kissed her pas
sionately.
When he let her go, she couldn’t remember what she had been singing. Several
seconds of silence passed, but the words had gone right out of her head.

“What was that
about?” she demanded as the children cheered their victory.

“It’s your
goblin friend,” complained the elf King. “He’s making me think too
much.”

“Who,
Seylin?” laughed Miranda, looking past him at the hand
some
goblin. “He always does that to everyone.”

“Well, not to
me,” declared Nir firmly. “He can’t make an elf work hard. Come on,
Sika, let’s go dancing.” And they did.