The Robin and the Kestrel - Chapter Seven
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i_read_whatSo last time, our heroes got into a fight, met Rune's mom, and decided to go challenge the Skull Hill Ghost!
This chapter starts us of with Gwyna's point of view. She's thinking about how glad she is that Jonny doesn't know quite as much about Rune's story as she does. While she was able to convince him to come on this trip, it was only because she appealed to Bardic vanity. She thinks if he knew as much as she does, he might not agree at all.
UM. That's not really a great thing to do to your husband, Robin. That's actually pretty much the definition of a dick move.
So anyway, Robin's heard the story as well as the song many times, while Jonny's only heard the song. She'd always paid very close attention to the details, because she always knew she wanted to make this trip herself someday. She has a few reasons for that.
Part of it is that she does want to prove that she can do what Rune did, but she also admits that's an easy answer. And one Jonny would understand better. Her bigger reason is more complicated:
Robin had spent her life in the pursuit of answers for the questions that plagued her. The story of the Ghost had created more questions for her than answers, and had powerfully aroused her curiosity. What was this spirit, anyway? The impression she'd gotten from Rune was that it was not, and never had been, human. So what was it? Was it really a spirit at all, or something more like an Elf, except that it was both more limited and more powerful? If it was a spirit, then why was a spirit bound to Skull Hill? And if it was the spirit of some creature that had not been human when alive, then what had brought a nonhuman creature here, to the heart of a human kingdom, and what had bound its spirit here after death?
She wonders about the fact that it deliberately attempts to use its powers to kill, but did spare Rune. Which means it has some discretion about what it does. However, it also doesn't seem to be able to leave. And so:
Before she had ever met Jonny, curiosity had driven her to do things and go places when nothing else would have. Questions would burn inside her until they found an answer. Talaysen often said it was her greatest strength and her greatest weakness, and she didn't see any reason to disagree. But her curiosity had gotten her information that might never have come into the hands of the Free Bards or the [Roma] otherwise, and many times, that information had been important to their survival.
This time both intuition and curiosity had combined forces. This is important, that was the message she was getting from both. She didn't get many "hunches," and she tried hard to follow them whenever she did; they were right more often than they were wrong.
I mean, it makes sense. I do feel like this is probably something she should talk about with her husband. It's not necessarily great to hide big important parts of who you are, after all. But they are young and newly married.
We get some good description:
She kept the lantern over her head to keep her eyes from becoming dazzled by the light, and led the horses up the untidy, long-neglected track. It wasn't as overgrown as she would have expected, though; no bushes or trees, only weeds, and those looked sickly and were no taller than her calf, even after a summer's worth of growth. She knew what that meant; there was a road underneath this track, one of the Old Roads, the ones no one knew how to build anymore. If she got out a shovel and dug, she knew she would hit the hard surface of one of the roadways that dated back to the Cataclysm; it would be a lightless black substance, like stone but yielding, like tar but much harder. Nothing could grow through it; that was why there was nothing growing on this track but short weeds. The earth and loam that had covered this road couldn't be more than an inch or so thick; just enough for grass and weeds to take root in. There would be no cracks or imperfections in it, unless she came to a place where an earthquake had split it, or the edge of a Cataclysm-boundary, where it would be cut off as if by a giant knife.
And here's something that Rune had never talked about: the pre-Cataclysm stuff. It raises some interesting questions about whether or not Rune even knows what the Cataclysm is. Or Talaysen for that matter, though I feel like it's more likely he would, but I'm not sure what the Church knows. I do know there's a book later from Ardis's point of view, so that might be a good way to discover what they know.
Anyway, we're told that the Old Roads always connected two or more places that were important before the Cataclysm and there were often ruins. The Deliambrens like to know about them, so the Roma keep track. Gwyna wonders if Harperus knows about this one and figures probably not since Gradford is a very minor city-state, while Westhaven is, well, Westhaven.
Gwyna thinks again about the bitter merchant women and the bullies:
Of course, she had—she hoped—inflicted some emotional damage on the women who deserved it, with her descriptions of Rune's fame and prosperity. I hope that hen-faced bitch is so envious of Rune that she chokes on her dinner. I bet she's the one that set those bullies on us. I hope she nags her husband about silk gowns and carriages until he beats her senseless. I hope that fool I scared into incontinence is her husband, and I scared him into impotence as well! She kept her feral snarl to herself. Vindictive? Oh, a tad.
Interesting! I'd assumed the hen-faced woman was older. I wonder if she's that Amanda or...the other one, that Rune didn't like. Gwyna figures that this is best not said outloud since Jonny isn't really the vindictive type and believed that revenge reduced you to the level of your persecutors. Gwyna likes a Roma proverb instead: Get your revenge in early and often. You might not have another chance.
Bringing it back to the Ghost, she's wondering if he's acting out of some kind of revenge when it comes to choosing its targets.
I really enjoy this bit. Rune was a kid, and very hyperfocused, so we didn't really explore the mystery of who or what the Skull Hill Ghost actually is. So now, we get to revisit that with an adult protagonist who's going in eyes open, ready to analyze things.
So they get ready. Robin suggests Jonny eat (and indeed, Mother Tolley's bread is very good), but Jonny's too nervous. He does eventually take some though, when she suggests it'll settle his stomach. I rather enjoy the stereotype reversal here. Kind of like how Talaysen was whimsical and romantic as opposed to Rune's lack of sentimentality. Here, Jonny's definitely the more timid and frightened of the two. Hopefully not frightened enough to succumb to the Ghost's murdering. That would be an ignoble way to end the story.
Anyway, they're stuck waiting. Gwyna figures that the Ghost will likely come out at midnight or moonrise. That's apparently around the same time tonight. She thinks they've found Rune's rock, and they park the wagon nearby. Now they wait.
And eventualy....
Then, in the very next moment, a wind howled up out of nowhere, just as Rune had described, a wind carrying the chill of a midwinter ice-storm. It flattened their clothing to their bodies and if Robin had not taken the precaution of binding her hair up for travel, it would have blinded her with her own tresses. This was not a screaming wind—no, this wind moaned. It sounded alive, somehow, and in dire, deadly, despairing pain. A hopeless wind, a wind that was in torment and not permitted to die. A tortured wind, tht carried the instruments of its own torture as lances of ice in its bowels.
It whirled around them for a moment, mocking their living warmth with deathly cold, as they huddled instinctively close together on the wagon-tail. There was more than physical cold in this wind; the hair on her arms rose as she realized that this wind also carried power. Not a power she recognized, but akin to it. The antithesis of healing-power . . . malignant, bitterly envious, and full of hate. The horses were utterly silent, and when she looked back at them, she saw them shaking, sides slick with the sweat of fear, and the whites of their eyes showing all around.
The Ghost starts making his appearance. He's definitely dramatic enough to be a Bard.
And it's effecting Gwyna too:
Whatever had made her think she could bargain with this thing? This wasn't a spirit—it was a force that was a law unto itself. She shook with more than cold, she trembled with more than fear. She had walked wide-eyed into a trap. Her own confidence had betrayed her. Her guts clenched, and her throat was too tight to swallow; her mouth dry as dust and her heart pounding.
But Gwyna is a bard at heart, and even as the Ghost spends a few pages making its swirly, leafy whirlwindy, Death-in-a-shroud appearance, Gwyna thinks about Rune's lyrics, and it occurs to her sluggishly that her paralyzing fear is the Ghost's doing. She fights it and throws the fear off.
We get a good look:
The last of the leaves settled around the base of the robe. The figure within that robe was thin and dreadfully attenuated; if it had been human, it would have been nothing but bone, but bone that had been softened and stretched until the skeleton was half again the height of the average human male. Elongated. That was the description she was searching for. And yet, there was nothing fragile about this thing. The cowl turned towards them, slowly and deliberately, and there was a suggestion of glowing eyes within the dark shadows of the hood.
The voice, when the thing spoke, came as something of a surprise. Robin had expected a hollow, booming voice, like the tolling of a death-bell. Instead, an icy, spidery whisper floated out of the darkness around them, as if all the shadows were speaking, and not the creature before them.
"How is it"—it whispered—"that you come here? Not one, but two musicians? Have you not heard of me, of what I am, of what I will do to you?"
Now...what Bard can ignore a cue like that?
Gwyna starts playing the introduction to "the Skull Hill Ghost". (I always did like that title better.) She sings the verse as Rune while aiming a bit of Bardic magic, with a bit of Roma magic, and "the magic of one true lover to another" at her husband. It works, because he's able to join in with harp and vocal harmony.
And Talaysen appears to have been correct about Kestrel not stuttering as he sings.
There's a note that Gwyna changes a lyric slightly to make it more of a challenge and metaphor for the life and death battle, and I kind of love that. Bards.
So they continue, Robin in Rune's persona, and Kestrel coming in as the Ghost - using a "cunning imitation" of the Ghost's voice (Talaysen usually sings it in a booming and spectral way, but Kestrel has Bardic instincts too and goes with a more accurate creepy whisper). The Ghost definitely seems surprised.
I kind of see what Talaysen had meant when he said the lyrics were a little too complex for a lot of Bards. But our heroes are pros. So they do fine and finish strong.
And the reaction?
"Well," it whispered, the voice now coming from beneath that cowl and not from every shade and shadow in the clearing. "So, the little fiddler girl survived. Did she thrive as well as survive?"
There was more than a little interest in that question. And not a hint of indifference. He remembered Rune, and he wanted to know about her.
Aww.
So Robin gives him a quick summary of where Rune ended up, which makes it happy. And it's a good opportunity to bargain. Robin, braver, starts off their offer: information, as much as he wants, and entertainment until dawn. And when the Ghost cuts her off, noting they haven't yet earned their lives, practical Kestrel chimes in with their demand: free passage for the Roma and Free Bards.
Gwyna rather cleverly brings up their issues with the Church, guessing that the Ghost likely has an issue with them too. (She also tries to figure out what race the Ghost actually is: ruling out a Deliambren, Gazner or Prilchard, as he's too tall. No wings either.)
So the Ghost decides he's willing to make the bargain...with an interesting exception. Apparently, if someone is "sent", and the word is italicized, from Carthell Abbey, he has no choice but to kill them.
((Another interesting side bit is Gwyna remembering the Deliambrens showing her a weapon of "interstellar warfare". She doesn't understand what interstellar means, but she remembers the scary feeling of power behind the thing. The Ghost feels a bit like that when angry.))
They accept the agreement. Things get a bit warmer and less hostile. Apparently, the Ghost has a lot of control over his surroundings! He wants more details about Rune, which they give him. We're told that he does get angry enough when he hears how the Guild treated Rune upon discovery of her gender, and Gwyna takes a moment to pity the next Guild Bard or Minstrel that passes this way by accident.
...yeah, I mean, that's not great. What if the Bard or Minstrel is like Talaysen was, or Darian, or a version of Kestrel that hadn't been booted out? But I guess our heroes have no real control over that.
Gwyna pretty hastily moves on to the story of the rescue, and Rune's subsequent adventures which makes the Ghost very happy. He starts making requests, first, the "harper" is ordered to play something with warmth and the sun.
This gives Robin (I realize the name shifts are confusing, I try to keep them consistent with what Ms. Lackey uses during the part that's being recapped. And to be fair, the chapters don't really feel that jarring when they switch. A summary like this is not so smooth though) a chance to wax eloquently about her husband's musical skill again:
Kestrel nodded without speaking, and set his hands to the strings of his harp. As always, he was lost in his music within the first few bars, and as always, he invoked Bardic Magic without any appearance of effort. Robin wondered if he realized what he was doing; the Magic that he called was mild, harmless, and did nothing more than invoke a mood. In this case, in performing a sweet child's song about a mountain meadow, he enhanced it with a mood of sunny innocence.
It is interesting how each character has their own unique quirks when it comes to this stuff. This is the second time someone's made a point of Kestrel's unconscious use of Bardic Magic compared to the others. I wonder if it's meant to be a subtle survival trait.
While the playing happens, Robin pays attention to the ebb and flow of power and energy. She had originally thought the Ghost would take the power from their music, but instead, it's more like he's basking in the warmth of it. Like a campfire. But she also senses that he COULD steal that energy and more - like when he kills his victims.
He chooses a Roma love song from Robin, who is pretty sure that she knows what he wants. He wants to be a little voyeur and hear her sing to her husband. But Bards are teases, so she sings a light-hearted funny song instead. The Ghost, fortunately, likes her audacity.
He asks about their quarrel with the Church. And after they fill him in on what Nightingale and Harperus says, the Ghost cryptically notes that he thinks their searches (in Gradford) will bear more fruit than Nightingale's in the opposite direction.
There's a few more song requests, and the next time he asks for a love song, she DOES play one of her own, for her husband, with her whole heart. Aw.
At the end of the night, everyone's pretty sore. The Ghost admits that he didn't give them strength like he had Rune, as there are two of them and they were taking turns. He notes that the bargain is complete and he intends to keep his side, though he might visit some of the travelers and REQUEST a song.
He also admits that there's no need for identifying marks, he's telepathic and will be able to tell. (Robin is vindicated.) He promises them safety as he sleeps and when he disappears - well, there's a pile of silver.
The chapter ends with the happy couple holding hands and counting their coins before a nice long sleep.
This chapter starts us of with Gwyna's point of view. She's thinking about how glad she is that Jonny doesn't know quite as much about Rune's story as she does. While she was able to convince him to come on this trip, it was only because she appealed to Bardic vanity. She thinks if he knew as much as she does, he might not agree at all.
UM. That's not really a great thing to do to your husband, Robin. That's actually pretty much the definition of a dick move.
So anyway, Robin's heard the story as well as the song many times, while Jonny's only heard the song. She'd always paid very close attention to the details, because she always knew she wanted to make this trip herself someday. She has a few reasons for that.
Part of it is that she does want to prove that she can do what Rune did, but she also admits that's an easy answer. And one Jonny would understand better. Her bigger reason is more complicated:
Robin had spent her life in the pursuit of answers for the questions that plagued her. The story of the Ghost had created more questions for her than answers, and had powerfully aroused her curiosity. What was this spirit, anyway? The impression she'd gotten from Rune was that it was not, and never had been, human. So what was it? Was it really a spirit at all, or something more like an Elf, except that it was both more limited and more powerful? If it was a spirit, then why was a spirit bound to Skull Hill? And if it was the spirit of some creature that had not been human when alive, then what had brought a nonhuman creature here, to the heart of a human kingdom, and what had bound its spirit here after death?
She wonders about the fact that it deliberately attempts to use its powers to kill, but did spare Rune. Which means it has some discretion about what it does. However, it also doesn't seem to be able to leave. And so:
Before she had ever met Jonny, curiosity had driven her to do things and go places when nothing else would have. Questions would burn inside her until they found an answer. Talaysen often said it was her greatest strength and her greatest weakness, and she didn't see any reason to disagree. But her curiosity had gotten her information that might never have come into the hands of the Free Bards or the [Roma] otherwise, and many times, that information had been important to their survival.
This time both intuition and curiosity had combined forces. This is important, that was the message she was getting from both. She didn't get many "hunches," and she tried hard to follow them whenever she did; they were right more often than they were wrong.
I mean, it makes sense. I do feel like this is probably something she should talk about with her husband. It's not necessarily great to hide big important parts of who you are, after all. But they are young and newly married.
We get some good description:
She kept the lantern over her head to keep her eyes from becoming dazzled by the light, and led the horses up the untidy, long-neglected track. It wasn't as overgrown as she would have expected, though; no bushes or trees, only weeds, and those looked sickly and were no taller than her calf, even after a summer's worth of growth. She knew what that meant; there was a road underneath this track, one of the Old Roads, the ones no one knew how to build anymore. If she got out a shovel and dug, she knew she would hit the hard surface of one of the roadways that dated back to the Cataclysm; it would be a lightless black substance, like stone but yielding, like tar but much harder. Nothing could grow through it; that was why there was nothing growing on this track but short weeds. The earth and loam that had covered this road couldn't be more than an inch or so thick; just enough for grass and weeds to take root in. There would be no cracks or imperfections in it, unless she came to a place where an earthquake had split it, or the edge of a Cataclysm-boundary, where it would be cut off as if by a giant knife.
And here's something that Rune had never talked about: the pre-Cataclysm stuff. It raises some interesting questions about whether or not Rune even knows what the Cataclysm is. Or Talaysen for that matter, though I feel like it's more likely he would, but I'm not sure what the Church knows. I do know there's a book later from Ardis's point of view, so that might be a good way to discover what they know.
Anyway, we're told that the Old Roads always connected two or more places that were important before the Cataclysm and there were often ruins. The Deliambrens like to know about them, so the Roma keep track. Gwyna wonders if Harperus knows about this one and figures probably not since Gradford is a very minor city-state, while Westhaven is, well, Westhaven.
Gwyna thinks again about the bitter merchant women and the bullies:
Of course, she had—she hoped—inflicted some emotional damage on the women who deserved it, with her descriptions of Rune's fame and prosperity. I hope that hen-faced bitch is so envious of Rune that she chokes on her dinner. I bet she's the one that set those bullies on us. I hope she nags her husband about silk gowns and carriages until he beats her senseless. I hope that fool I scared into incontinence is her husband, and I scared him into impotence as well! She kept her feral snarl to herself. Vindictive? Oh, a tad.
Interesting! I'd assumed the hen-faced woman was older. I wonder if she's that Amanda or...the other one, that Rune didn't like. Gwyna figures that this is best not said outloud since Jonny isn't really the vindictive type and believed that revenge reduced you to the level of your persecutors. Gwyna likes a Roma proverb instead: Get your revenge in early and often. You might not have another chance.
Bringing it back to the Ghost, she's wondering if he's acting out of some kind of revenge when it comes to choosing its targets.
I really enjoy this bit. Rune was a kid, and very hyperfocused, so we didn't really explore the mystery of who or what the Skull Hill Ghost actually is. So now, we get to revisit that with an adult protagonist who's going in eyes open, ready to analyze things.
So they get ready. Robin suggests Jonny eat (and indeed, Mother Tolley's bread is very good), but Jonny's too nervous. He does eventually take some though, when she suggests it'll settle his stomach. I rather enjoy the stereotype reversal here. Kind of like how Talaysen was whimsical and romantic as opposed to Rune's lack of sentimentality. Here, Jonny's definitely the more timid and frightened of the two. Hopefully not frightened enough to succumb to the Ghost's murdering. That would be an ignoble way to end the story.
Anyway, they're stuck waiting. Gwyna figures that the Ghost will likely come out at midnight or moonrise. That's apparently around the same time tonight. She thinks they've found Rune's rock, and they park the wagon nearby. Now they wait.
And eventualy....
Then, in the very next moment, a wind howled up out of nowhere, just as Rune had described, a wind carrying the chill of a midwinter ice-storm. It flattened their clothing to their bodies and if Robin had not taken the precaution of binding her hair up for travel, it would have blinded her with her own tresses. This was not a screaming wind—no, this wind moaned. It sounded alive, somehow, and in dire, deadly, despairing pain. A hopeless wind, a wind that was in torment and not permitted to die. A tortured wind, tht carried the instruments of its own torture as lances of ice in its bowels.
It whirled around them for a moment, mocking their living warmth with deathly cold, as they huddled instinctively close together on the wagon-tail. There was more than physical cold in this wind; the hair on her arms rose as she realized that this wind also carried power. Not a power she recognized, but akin to it. The antithesis of healing-power . . . malignant, bitterly envious, and full of hate. The horses were utterly silent, and when she looked back at them, she saw them shaking, sides slick with the sweat of fear, and the whites of their eyes showing all around.
The Ghost starts making his appearance. He's definitely dramatic enough to be a Bard.
And it's effecting Gwyna too:
Whatever had made her think she could bargain with this thing? This wasn't a spirit—it was a force that was a law unto itself. She shook with more than cold, she trembled with more than fear. She had walked wide-eyed into a trap. Her own confidence had betrayed her. Her guts clenched, and her throat was too tight to swallow; her mouth dry as dust and her heart pounding.
But Gwyna is a bard at heart, and even as the Ghost spends a few pages making its swirly, leafy whirlwindy, Death-in-a-shroud appearance, Gwyna thinks about Rune's lyrics, and it occurs to her sluggishly that her paralyzing fear is the Ghost's doing. She fights it and throws the fear off.
We get a good look:
The last of the leaves settled around the base of the robe. The figure within that robe was thin and dreadfully attenuated; if it had been human, it would have been nothing but bone, but bone that had been softened and stretched until the skeleton was half again the height of the average human male. Elongated. That was the description she was searching for. And yet, there was nothing fragile about this thing. The cowl turned towards them, slowly and deliberately, and there was a suggestion of glowing eyes within the dark shadows of the hood.
The voice, when the thing spoke, came as something of a surprise. Robin had expected a hollow, booming voice, like the tolling of a death-bell. Instead, an icy, spidery whisper floated out of the darkness around them, as if all the shadows were speaking, and not the creature before them.
"How is it"—it whispered—"that you come here? Not one, but two musicians? Have you not heard of me, of what I am, of what I will do to you?"
Now...what Bard can ignore a cue like that?
Gwyna starts playing the introduction to "the Skull Hill Ghost". (I always did like that title better.) She sings the verse as Rune while aiming a bit of Bardic magic, with a bit of Roma magic, and "the magic of one true lover to another" at her husband. It works, because he's able to join in with harp and vocal harmony.
And Talaysen appears to have been correct about Kestrel not stuttering as he sings.
There's a note that Gwyna changes a lyric slightly to make it more of a challenge and metaphor for the life and death battle, and I kind of love that. Bards.
So they continue, Robin in Rune's persona, and Kestrel coming in as the Ghost - using a "cunning imitation" of the Ghost's voice (Talaysen usually sings it in a booming and spectral way, but Kestrel has Bardic instincts too and goes with a more accurate creepy whisper). The Ghost definitely seems surprised.
I kind of see what Talaysen had meant when he said the lyrics were a little too complex for a lot of Bards. But our heroes are pros. So they do fine and finish strong.
And the reaction?
"Well," it whispered, the voice now coming from beneath that cowl and not from every shade and shadow in the clearing. "So, the little fiddler girl survived. Did she thrive as well as survive?"
There was more than a little interest in that question. And not a hint of indifference. He remembered Rune, and he wanted to know about her.
Aww.
So Robin gives him a quick summary of where Rune ended up, which makes it happy. And it's a good opportunity to bargain. Robin, braver, starts off their offer: information, as much as he wants, and entertainment until dawn. And when the Ghost cuts her off, noting they haven't yet earned their lives, practical Kestrel chimes in with their demand: free passage for the Roma and Free Bards.
Gwyna rather cleverly brings up their issues with the Church, guessing that the Ghost likely has an issue with them too. (She also tries to figure out what race the Ghost actually is: ruling out a Deliambren, Gazner or Prilchard, as he's too tall. No wings either.)
So the Ghost decides he's willing to make the bargain...with an interesting exception. Apparently, if someone is "sent", and the word is italicized, from Carthell Abbey, he has no choice but to kill them.
((Another interesting side bit is Gwyna remembering the Deliambrens showing her a weapon of "interstellar warfare". She doesn't understand what interstellar means, but she remembers the scary feeling of power behind the thing. The Ghost feels a bit like that when angry.))
They accept the agreement. Things get a bit warmer and less hostile. Apparently, the Ghost has a lot of control over his surroundings! He wants more details about Rune, which they give him. We're told that he does get angry enough when he hears how the Guild treated Rune upon discovery of her gender, and Gwyna takes a moment to pity the next Guild Bard or Minstrel that passes this way by accident.
...yeah, I mean, that's not great. What if the Bard or Minstrel is like Talaysen was, or Darian, or a version of Kestrel that hadn't been booted out? But I guess our heroes have no real control over that.
Gwyna pretty hastily moves on to the story of the rescue, and Rune's subsequent adventures which makes the Ghost very happy. He starts making requests, first, the "harper" is ordered to play something with warmth and the sun.
This gives Robin (I realize the name shifts are confusing, I try to keep them consistent with what Ms. Lackey uses during the part that's being recapped. And to be fair, the chapters don't really feel that jarring when they switch. A summary like this is not so smooth though) a chance to wax eloquently about her husband's musical skill again:
Kestrel nodded without speaking, and set his hands to the strings of his harp. As always, he was lost in his music within the first few bars, and as always, he invoked Bardic Magic without any appearance of effort. Robin wondered if he realized what he was doing; the Magic that he called was mild, harmless, and did nothing more than invoke a mood. In this case, in performing a sweet child's song about a mountain meadow, he enhanced it with a mood of sunny innocence.
It is interesting how each character has their own unique quirks when it comes to this stuff. This is the second time someone's made a point of Kestrel's unconscious use of Bardic Magic compared to the others. I wonder if it's meant to be a subtle survival trait.
While the playing happens, Robin pays attention to the ebb and flow of power and energy. She had originally thought the Ghost would take the power from their music, but instead, it's more like he's basking in the warmth of it. Like a campfire. But she also senses that he COULD steal that energy and more - like when he kills his victims.
He chooses a Roma love song from Robin, who is pretty sure that she knows what he wants. He wants to be a little voyeur and hear her sing to her husband. But Bards are teases, so she sings a light-hearted funny song instead. The Ghost, fortunately, likes her audacity.
He asks about their quarrel with the Church. And after they fill him in on what Nightingale and Harperus says, the Ghost cryptically notes that he thinks their searches (in Gradford) will bear more fruit than Nightingale's in the opposite direction.
There's a few more song requests, and the next time he asks for a love song, she DOES play one of her own, for her husband, with her whole heart. Aw.
At the end of the night, everyone's pretty sore. The Ghost admits that he didn't give them strength like he had Rune, as there are two of them and they were taking turns. He notes that the bargain is complete and he intends to keep his side, though he might visit some of the travelers and REQUEST a song.
He also admits that there's no need for identifying marks, he's telepathic and will be able to tell. (Robin is vindicated.) He promises them safety as he sleeps and when he disappears - well, there's a pile of silver.
The chapter ends with the happy couple holding hands and counting their coins before a nice long sleep.