Page 11 of Zel (The GriMM Tales #2)

Ulrich sat at one end of a long table in a high-back chair, though he rose at Zel’s entrance and bowed like a proper gentleman greeting a lady.

He was dressed the same in his black and violet robes.

Zel had used the loom to create exactly what he had said he wanted—a simple, single piece dress with breeches beneath as his only undergarment, no corset nor bodice, only a silk sash cinched at his waist. It was the most comfortable he had ever felt outside of his assassin gear, and he still looked convincingly feminine.

He also still wore Rudy’s pendant. He knew it was foolish to wear something a commoner shouldn’t have, tempting Ulrich’s curiosity when the pendant’s origin was complicated at best, but the weight and meaning behind the token helped Zel feel grounded and somehow safer within the monster's den—however unlike a monster Ulrich had acted thus far.

What he had bid of the loom was to take what had been black and violet fabrics and add starlight shimmers to the combination as a mimic of Ulrich’s hair. It was as if literal stars dotted Zel’s dress as he moved, in brilliant contrast to his golden braids.

He also carried one of the books he had found in the main room. He set it beside him on the table when he took his seat across from Ulrich. Food had already been laid out, waiting for him to fill his plate, including a salad made from the rapunzel in the garden.

“You still wish for me to eat your lettuce?” Zel asked.

“I do. Do you not care for it?”

“It is some of the most delicious food I have ever eaten. But it leaves me curious.”

“You know what it does. You are healthy and brimming with magic because of it. Your hair could never have grown so long or so silken if you were not infused with magical essence.”

Because Zel’s hair could only be cut by him—and as far as anyone else knew, not at all—it had often been speculated that it was where his magic was contained. “But I cannot wield magic.”

“Would you like to learn how?”

“Anyone can learn?”

“Anyone can learn almost anything with the right tools. Talent is a factor, but lacking talent only stops those unwilling to put in the work. It is even possible for magic to occur spontaneously from someone with seemingly no power at all, although quite rare.”

Zel wondered if that was how the sorcerer had learned—hard work over natural talent. “Perhaps not on our first night,” he said.

“Please then, eat. If the wine is not to your liking, I can conjure a different vintage, ale, anything you like.” Ulrich began to fill his plate, so Zel did the same.

He took a sip from the wine before taking his first bite of food, and it was worlds different from the vinegary swill served to guild members. “This is wonderful, my lord.”

Ulrich raised his glass. “To the month ahead and a deserving end when it is over.”

“ Prost ,” Zel toasted, and after taking a larger gulp, he turned to his food. It was all just as delicious as the lettuce. “Do you have servants who prepared all this?”

“Not living ones.”

Zel paused, wondering if undead had touched this food.

“Not any longer, I mean,” Ulrich said. “Magic can accomplish much. I know many spells to cook and prepare food, so long as I know the recipes, but I tend to my garden myself, and I still need to catch and kill any game we eat.”

“You leave the tower then?”

“Often. If you are wondering why no one has reported seeing me, who is to say whether I look like this when I leave?”

A shapeshifter. Good to know. “You eat, clearly,” Zel indicated as Ulrich finished a bite.

“Why wouldn’t I? But it is not food nor water nor wine that sustains me. Do you know what does?”

Zel thought of the foot he had seen outside the tower wall. He thought of the stories he had heard and the many bodies reported to have been found around the tower for decades. Centuries. “Souls you drain from others, as you once attempted to drain my parents.”

Ulrich’s starlight eyes held Zel captive. “Understand that it would not kill me outright to stop consuming souls. But it keeps me… lively, even if it is not what keeps me alive.”

It was still possible that Ulrich’s true goal was to consume Zel’s soul as some magically enriched meal. It was also possible that the game Zel ate now had once been an unfortunate trespasser. But he could not waste time on wondering unless it furthered his goal.

“Do you resent your parents or me for how things have come to pass?” Ulrich asked.

“I used to,” Zel answered plainly. He had long since decided that he would be honest in everything he could, for it would add legitimacy when he had to lie. “As I got older, I understood why they risked what they did.”

“Did you?”

“They had nothing. Stealing from you gave them the promise of a possibly better future together. Anyone would have taken risks for that.”

“I suppose they would.”

“But I also do not resent you. They trespassed. They stole from you. You were in your rights to punish them. Yet you spared them. Now I have a chance for a better life. One I hope I can share with them eventually.”

Ulrich smiled and took up his wine glass again to sip from it. “Let us get through the month first.”

“Of course.”

They ate for a while with idle chatter. If this had been a normal arranged marriage without subterfuge and all that was at stake, Zel might have been truly charmed by his betrothed, however intimidating he may have been. Ulrich was certainly attractive. Entrancing. Regal.

But it was Zel who ought to be doing the charming and learn all he could.

When their meal was waning, Ulrich asked, “Are you going to tell me about that book of mine you brought to dinner?”

“I know this book.” Zel lifted it. “I know all its stories. It pleased me to see it on my future bridegroom’s shelf.”

“Do you have a favorite story within?”

“Many.”

“Pick one and read it to me. I am interested to know how your thieving parents educated you.”

Was that a bait? “They are more than thieves, my lord,” Zel said plainly, if a bit stilted.

“Forgive me. Tell me then, what else are they?”

Assassins was not the answer Zel planned to give, but he could still be truthful.

“They own a music shop, Pied Pipers. Piper is our surname. They sell instruments there. Sheet music. Supplies for writing music. Even books like this one of beloved stories that have since been made better by being set to music. It is a cover for the Thieves Guild, yes, but they chose for the shop to be about music. Their love for stories and song is no lie, and they instilled the same in me.”

“Well then, tell me, Zel, instead of reading one of your favorite stories to me, could you sing one?”

“I can do better.” Zel rose from the table. “Might my magical lord provide a violin?”

Ulrich did so with no more flourish than lifting his hand from beneath the table, and there he held one, summoned, Zel assumed, from the treasure room.

Zel went to him and placed the book in front of Ulrich, turned to a specific page to follow along.

It was when he took the violin that he saw Ulrich’s right hand for the first time, as it had held the bow.

Ulrich had been using his left for everything, and it was clear why given the state of the right.

Zel’s parents had prepared him for it, but to see it was jarring. Not only was it blackened, with its veins glowing violet, but it was almost husk-like, just skin over bone.

“Thank you, my lord,” Zel said, paying the hand no mind for now. He would learn its secrets in time.

ULRICH

H ow wonderous Zel was thus far. Ulrich had envisioned much of how this encounter might go. So far all was as he had hoped for, yet even better and more surprising than he could have guessed.

Especially when Zel lifted the violin and began to play while singing.

“A fiddler skilled, though love eluded her, she played her woes beneath the forest's shade, and from her music, unfit suitors stirred for her, a curse, perhaps, that love could not invade.”

“First came the wolf, with hunger in its eyes, who sought her touch, demanding like a beast. She slipped from its grasp, escaping with a sigh, fleeting like the shadows, her heart uncreased.”

“Next came the fox, dressed in charm like a liar, riches it promised, which she knew as fake. Fooled it in turn, she took all it had acquired, and left it in tatters for her own heart’s sake.”

“Then came the hare, timid and fearful, who hoped gentleness meant the songstress would yield. But stronger still, her will remained cheerful, for against such weakness, she never would kneel.”

“At last, a man, steady and kind, loved her freely and honored her mind. For true love is selfless, a rare gem to find, not beastly nor cruel when hearts entwine.”

Lovely. The song and the performer.

Ulrich applauded, studying Zel, who curtsied and smiled. How lovely indeed. Someone other than Ulrich might never have guessed that the beautiful golden-haired muse had been sent here to kill him. But Ulrich knew.

What happened to Zel when the time came was yet to be decided.