A Cast of Corbies - Chapter Eight
Jul. 6th, 2025 12:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kalinara posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
i_read_whatSo last time, Ms. Lackey and Ms. Sherman decided that the solution to having a truly dislikable lead character was not to have her decide to improve her behavior or anything, but rather, have a random side character spill her tragic backstory to the hero so as to convince him he's being unfair to her.
I'm not actually sure how Raven is supposed to "be fair" to Magpie, beyond what he's already been doing. He's credited her with having a better head for business than he does, named her "business director" of the group even. But I guess he's supposed to just let her be in charge of everything? Not call her out for being a dick when she's obviously being a dick?
It'd be one thing if the conflict were genuinely two-sided. I've seen examples of that in novels and while it's not a dynamic that I particularly care for, I can see the appeal. But I genuinely don't see what Raven could or should be doing different here.
Also, and this is a really mild thing, it annoys me that Ms. Lackey apparently forgot that Raven actually does have a real name. I know Roma (in the series) take use names, but Gwyna/Robin, Erdric/Owl and Alain/Sparrow all use their real names and use names interchangeably. We've not seen Raven use his once in this book. Or even just a throwaway line saying that he really doesn't like being called "Reshan" because of reasons.
It's a tiny thing, but added to the way that both Magpie and Jaysen were blatantly racist in their viewpoint sections in the past, the complete disinterest in the idea that Raven actually does have a backstory beyond the running gag about how he lost his eye...
I don't know, it just puts an annoyed taste in my mouth.
But enough ranting. Let's go.
--
So the chapter starts with Raven thinking that the play is starting to look like a play. I guess the rehearsals so far had been on the empty stage, but the scenery designers are starting to get shit done.
Raven's actually been entertaining himself by watching them and asking questions, which they don't seem to mind. Currently, the stagehand is working on a bush, explaining how it'll get painted and fixed together with similar sections and it will look very cool.
They're also working on the side of a house for a garden scene, the explanation for how they'll be rigging the counterweight sounds like it's going to be interesting, though it's interrupted when an apprentice ends up spilling paint on it.
Apparently there'd been a number of minor disasters during rehearsal, and I have to admit, Ms. Lackey and Sherman seem to be having fun with the chaos of the theatre. I'm not going to recap all of it, but it's a fun read. Especially when Regina messes up the line "my lord brother" with "my bored lover" and she and her scene partner can't stop laughing, to the Manager's irate insults.
(It's also a nice bit of humanity for Regina, who doesn't seem to mind being called an idiot when she screws up.)
It's very enjoyable. Well. Except one part:
As Mistress Marda, who was in charge of the Company’s makeup, came scurrying to make repairs, Raven murmured, “Ah, the magic of the theater,” to Magpie.
But Magpie turned coldly away as though she hadn’t heard him, and Raven gave vent to his own frustrated sigh. Ever since she’d seen him talking with Regina, the idiotic wench had been acting as if she had caught him stealing from his own mother. She never looked at him without looking down her nose at him, and her manner was so chill a wall of ice seemed to form every time they were in the same room. If only that were the whole of it!
But no, Magpie was also proving herself a wonder of acidic humor, scalding him with it whenever the opportunity presented itself. Which, of course, since he was determined not to give her an opening, happened all too often.
Ugh. In a way, I admire Lackey and Sherman for being able to immediately bring the enjoyment level down with Magpie here.
Here's a tip, Ms. Lackey and Ms. Sherman, if you want me to sympathize with a female character who is pining after a guy, you might want to not have her be a total bitch to him all the time. Why WOULD Raven be romantically interested in someone who "scalds" him with "acidic humor"?
I mean, look at this?
It didn’t help that the Manager had decided they were far enough along in rehearsals for the musicians to perform in the small, onstage alcove, curtained off from the view of the audience, that they would occupy during actual performances. In such tight surroundings, Raven could hardly keep out of Magpies way. She had him afraid to say a single word during rehearsals, for fear she’d somehow turn whatever he said into some jest at his own expense. He did his level best to give her as good as he got, of course-how not? But that only made things worse, and made her more determined than ever to make a mockery of him.
It wasn’t fair, curse it all! It wasn’t as if he’d actually done anything wrong. But every time Raven tried to explain that to her, Magpie found an excuse to be elswhere. Curse her. Curse this play. Curse this whole stupid town and every theater in it! I could be out on the road somewhere, the wind in my hair. But no, I’m stuck here, and all because Talaysen and Rune couldn’t control themselves!
a) I wish Raven got to show a bit more of a spine and stand up for himself, because why exactly is he putting up with this?
But then, I suppose, Regina is the one in charge here and she's made it clear that she's inexplicably #TeamMagpie, so I guess that provides a good reason why.
I'm not sure why he doesn't leave though. Talaysen put him in charge of the Free Bards, sure, but that doesn't mean he has to stick with this troupe. Talaysen didn't have any problems traveling alone or with Rune after all. So why can't Raven do the same thing?
b) this is a shallow complaint, but I actually would like to see some of Magpie's acidically witty comments, because there's been nothing in her portrayal so far that actually demonstrates a quick wit or a sense of humor at all. I have trouble believing that she's that clever, to be honest, so I want an example.
c) Also it annoys me that Raven is even trying to "explain" anything to Magpie. He doesn't actually owe her an explanation for...whatever it is he's supposed to have done. Ms. Lackey and Ms. Sherman may have forgotten, but their big blow up fight happened because MAGPIE accused RAVEN of trying to flirt with Regina when they were having a perfectly professional conversation.
Magpie is not his girlfriend, nor is she a senior member of the Free Bards that he has to answer to. Even if he WAS fucking Regina, that'd be none of her business.
Anyway, there are more minor problems. Regina and Raven continue to talk pleasantly about things, and again, I really wish Regina were the lead female character. I'm not saying I'd want a romance between them, as I vaguely remember thinking her dynamic with Arden is interesting in its own right. But we can have co-leads without a romance, and she's much more likable than Magpie.
I'm not actually sure what Magpie contributes to the plot, now that I think about it. Jaysen got them the job. Raven does the creative composing work and is our viewpoint character into the theatre. Magpie took over an inn that we haven't seen since, and spends the rest of the time sulking or shrieking.
We did learn that Raven's convinced the Manager to spend a little extra money to bring in Nightjar (a hornist) and Finch and Verdin (viol-players) and flesh out the orchestra a bit more. And in the midst of chaos, they're sounding pretty good.
Until Crow slips and puts his hand through his drum. Heh.
We also get a summary of what's been going on at the boarding house. It's like Ms. Lackey and Sherman read my complaint a few paragraphs back. Hah.
Fortunately, life at their makeshift boardinghouse home was going a little more smoothly. Granted, there was a whole list of things that still needed major correction. As the season turned towards autumn, the walls had started leaking cold air at night, enough to make candleflames flicker and sometimes even blow out. But even though the Free Bard boarders were beginning to turn a bit of a profit with their dining and laundry services, such repairs would cost more than all of them were making. And so people were correcting what they could with the materials at hand; Sparrow had found some planks “nobody wanted,” and Raven himself had shamelessly swiped a good handful of nails from the theater for some makeshift repairs.
Ah well, Raven mused, at least, drafty walls or no, everyone was getting good, hot, regular meals and had a reasonably bearable bed in which to sleep, and a roof that, even if it occasionally rained bits of old birds’ nests or the odd groggy insects down on everyone, was almost leak-free. Or so he thought, until after dinner that night.
You know what's funny about this?
There's no mention of business leader Magpie doing anything here. She's the one who bullied the boarding house into this weird arrangement after all. What is SHE doing to make it work?
Apparently Jaysen's romantic woes are going less well though. Linnet's playing a little hot and cold and he's gone to Raven for advice, "as a man of the world."
Raven isn't terribly helpful, as his answer to the question of what women want is "the same thing we all do" (i.e. happiness) and he refuses to dispense advice, claiming it will make things worse. He does reassure Jaysen that Linnet is interested in him, and maybe even in love, and Jaysen is in love with her, so it will probably work itself out.
Really, Jaysen, this dude's romantic option right now is fucking Magpie. Do you WANT his advice?
If only, Raven thought the next morning, everything else was as clear to read as young love. Jaysen was clearly more hopeful, and Linnet flushed a delicate pink every time she looked at him. On the other hand, Magpie was as cool as ever, and not one of his attempts at conversation met with more than a frigid “Oh? Indeed?” I’d better not ask her to pass the tea, he thought with resignation. She’ll make it undrinkably cold if she touches it. And she’ll surely sour the cream. He managed a certain amount of conversation with Finch and Verdin-enough to make the meal palatable, at any rate. They left in a group, but he trailed along in the rear, rather than risk accidentally getting in Magpie’s way and earning another sharp set-down.
Why is this the romantic pairing of the novel? WHY?
Anyway, Raven does end up overhearing something interesting from the back of the group though. A street preacher. Oof, that's a bad sign.
“… and so I say to you,” the preacher, a lean, sinewy fellow who looked as though he never laughed, said sonorously to his small, bemused audience, “the theater is a snare wherein the Forces of Evil trap the souls of those who come to see these immoral plays!”
Raven has a Bard's sense of mischief, and this isn't Gradford where the street preachers have impunity.
“Immoral?” Raven drawled, strolling forward. “Sir Preacher-forgive me if I don’t have your title correct- what is so immoral about a play wherein true-hearted lovers are united, virtue triumphs, villainy and lechery are defeated and exposed, and everyone lives happily ever after? Not a bit of impropriety, I promise you, in A Twice-Told Tale,” he raised his voice just enough to catch the attention of the preacher’s audience, “the new comedy to open at the Duke of Kingsford’s Company Theater in a fortnight.”
With that, he bowed more to the gathered watchers, turned dramatically, wishing he had a cloak to snap out behind him, and walked away, closely followed by the other Free Bards. Behind him, he could hear the preacher frantically trying to regain the dispersing audience’s attention with a fierce, “The demons speak beguiling words! These players are whores, I tell you, common whores masquerading as honest entertainers!”
“Now that’s really going to keep people away,” Raven murmured to the others. “He might as well be selling tickets to the play.”
Hah.
Nightjar admires his nerve, and Raven is understandably pleased with himself. Sadly, the mood in the theater is less jovial, as they find the actors clustered around a sobbing extra.
She'd been knocked over by a falling tree (not real of course), fortunately she wasn't hurt, but it was a scary experience. The rehearsal continues more comedically as "Sir Verrick" draws his sword - or rather the hilt as the sword itself is stuck in the sheath.
There's also a fun note where Raven muses about how the actor playing the vengeful Sir Verrick is a nice, gentle fellow who likes birdwatching. I really do like how involved Raven is getting with the theater in general. It makes it easy to be emotionally invested in its success.
Honestly, that's what's so frustrating about the Magpie shit. Everything ELSE is fun. Raven is fun, Jaysen's silly crush is fun, the theater is fun. I really think this story could have been told without her and it'd be better for it.
There's more disasters over the next few days, culminating in the disappearance of Flora's mask. This is interesting because for the first time, we do get to see Regina genuinely angry, as she denies having misplaced it.
It's a good time for some bardic interference actually.
Raven stepped forward, deciding that someone ought to intervene before the Manager or Regina said something unforgivable. Better him, an outsider, than anyone else. “Did you see the mask, Mistress Gerna? Or any sign that someone else had been in the Wardrobe Room?’
Mistress Gerna shrugged helplessly. “Didn’t notice,” she admitted. “Who’d want to bother mere stage costumes? They’re all false fur and imitation silk. It’s not as if you could actually wear them anywhere but onstage!”
It occurs to me that I kind of wish Magpie had gotten this part instead, if only because we've already seen Raven's investment in the theatre, and it might have been nice to see Magpie do more than glower uselessly this chapter.
Fortunately, Nightjar ends up spotting it in the audience area. And everyone is relieved and bewildered.
Oh, Magpie does get to observe something useful though.
“Raven, look,” Magpie murmured the next morning. “Your preacher friend has been replaced.” Raven looked, and didn’t like what he saw. This well-fed fellow in elegantly cut clerical robes was, without a doubt, a fully ordained priest of the Church And a more sly, more false creature I never saw, Raven thought in distaste. Press his hand and feel oil, touch his honor and see tears. But underneath the slime …ah, I don’t like the coldness in those flat eyes. Petty evil, yes, but evil nevertheless.
Priest the man might be, but the gist of his sermon was the same as that useless preacher: the theater was the home of sinners, and honest folk, folk in fear of the safety of their immortal souls should stay away from such shameful places.
“Not going to jest with him?” Nightjar asked wryly. Raven gave her a sour grin. “There are limits.”
“For you?” Magpie s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Did you ever stop to think that your little jest might have sent that relatively harmless preacher straight to his superiors? And given us this full-fledged enemy instead?”
Yes, it's Raven's fault that the Church hates entertainment, Magpie.
I mean, look, Magpie has every right to find Raven obnoxious. But this is the main romantic pairing of the book, and we're in Chapter Eight, and the ONLY thing she seems to like about him is how he looks. She doesn't seem to think he's smart or funny or interesting or anything like that. SO WHY AM I SUPPOSED TO BE INVESTED IN THIS ROMANCE???
Raven merely says that the new preacher isn't an enemy, just a man with too much time on his hands. He points out that the theater is owned by the Duke and the Church won't fuck with them.
Magpie is skeptical, and Raven admits to himself that he is too. Though he's also figuring that a theater troupe would hardly be a major target for something as vast as the Church. Hm. Maybe. Unless the DUKE is the real target. I suppose we'll have to see.
Anyway, the chapter ends here.
I'm not actually sure how Raven is supposed to "be fair" to Magpie, beyond what he's already been doing. He's credited her with having a better head for business than he does, named her "business director" of the group even. But I guess he's supposed to just let her be in charge of everything? Not call her out for being a dick when she's obviously being a dick?
It'd be one thing if the conflict were genuinely two-sided. I've seen examples of that in novels and while it's not a dynamic that I particularly care for, I can see the appeal. But I genuinely don't see what Raven could or should be doing different here.
Also, and this is a really mild thing, it annoys me that Ms. Lackey apparently forgot that Raven actually does have a real name. I know Roma (in the series) take use names, but Gwyna/Robin, Erdric/Owl and Alain/Sparrow all use their real names and use names interchangeably. We've not seen Raven use his once in this book. Or even just a throwaway line saying that he really doesn't like being called "Reshan" because of reasons.
It's a tiny thing, but added to the way that both Magpie and Jaysen were blatantly racist in their viewpoint sections in the past, the complete disinterest in the idea that Raven actually does have a backstory beyond the running gag about how he lost his eye...
I don't know, it just puts an annoyed taste in my mouth.
But enough ranting. Let's go.
--
So the chapter starts with Raven thinking that the play is starting to look like a play. I guess the rehearsals so far had been on the empty stage, but the scenery designers are starting to get shit done.
Raven's actually been entertaining himself by watching them and asking questions, which they don't seem to mind. Currently, the stagehand is working on a bush, explaining how it'll get painted and fixed together with similar sections and it will look very cool.
They're also working on the side of a house for a garden scene, the explanation for how they'll be rigging the counterweight sounds like it's going to be interesting, though it's interrupted when an apprentice ends up spilling paint on it.
Apparently there'd been a number of minor disasters during rehearsal, and I have to admit, Ms. Lackey and Sherman seem to be having fun with the chaos of the theatre. I'm not going to recap all of it, but it's a fun read. Especially when Regina messes up the line "my lord brother" with "my bored lover" and she and her scene partner can't stop laughing, to the Manager's irate insults.
(It's also a nice bit of humanity for Regina, who doesn't seem to mind being called an idiot when she screws up.)
It's very enjoyable. Well. Except one part:
As Mistress Marda, who was in charge of the Company’s makeup, came scurrying to make repairs, Raven murmured, “Ah, the magic of the theater,” to Magpie.
But Magpie turned coldly away as though she hadn’t heard him, and Raven gave vent to his own frustrated sigh. Ever since she’d seen him talking with Regina, the idiotic wench had been acting as if she had caught him stealing from his own mother. She never looked at him without looking down her nose at him, and her manner was so chill a wall of ice seemed to form every time they were in the same room. If only that were the whole of it!
But no, Magpie was also proving herself a wonder of acidic humor, scalding him with it whenever the opportunity presented itself. Which, of course, since he was determined not to give her an opening, happened all too often.
Ugh. In a way, I admire Lackey and Sherman for being able to immediately bring the enjoyment level down with Magpie here.
Here's a tip, Ms. Lackey and Ms. Sherman, if you want me to sympathize with a female character who is pining after a guy, you might want to not have her be a total bitch to him all the time. Why WOULD Raven be romantically interested in someone who "scalds" him with "acidic humor"?
I mean, look at this?
It didn’t help that the Manager had decided they were far enough along in rehearsals for the musicians to perform in the small, onstage alcove, curtained off from the view of the audience, that they would occupy during actual performances. In such tight surroundings, Raven could hardly keep out of Magpies way. She had him afraid to say a single word during rehearsals, for fear she’d somehow turn whatever he said into some jest at his own expense. He did his level best to give her as good as he got, of course-how not? But that only made things worse, and made her more determined than ever to make a mockery of him.
It wasn’t fair, curse it all! It wasn’t as if he’d actually done anything wrong. But every time Raven tried to explain that to her, Magpie found an excuse to be elswhere. Curse her. Curse this play. Curse this whole stupid town and every theater in it! I could be out on the road somewhere, the wind in my hair. But no, I’m stuck here, and all because Talaysen and Rune couldn’t control themselves!
a) I wish Raven got to show a bit more of a spine and stand up for himself, because why exactly is he putting up with this?
But then, I suppose, Regina is the one in charge here and she's made it clear that she's inexplicably #TeamMagpie, so I guess that provides a good reason why.
I'm not sure why he doesn't leave though. Talaysen put him in charge of the Free Bards, sure, but that doesn't mean he has to stick with this troupe. Talaysen didn't have any problems traveling alone or with Rune after all. So why can't Raven do the same thing?
b) this is a shallow complaint, but I actually would like to see some of Magpie's acidically witty comments, because there's been nothing in her portrayal so far that actually demonstrates a quick wit or a sense of humor at all. I have trouble believing that she's that clever, to be honest, so I want an example.
c) Also it annoys me that Raven is even trying to "explain" anything to Magpie. He doesn't actually owe her an explanation for...whatever it is he's supposed to have done. Ms. Lackey and Ms. Sherman may have forgotten, but their big blow up fight happened because MAGPIE accused RAVEN of trying to flirt with Regina when they were having a perfectly professional conversation.
Magpie is not his girlfriend, nor is she a senior member of the Free Bards that he has to answer to. Even if he WAS fucking Regina, that'd be none of her business.
Anyway, there are more minor problems. Regina and Raven continue to talk pleasantly about things, and again, I really wish Regina were the lead female character. I'm not saying I'd want a romance between them, as I vaguely remember thinking her dynamic with Arden is interesting in its own right. But we can have co-leads without a romance, and she's much more likable than Magpie.
I'm not actually sure what Magpie contributes to the plot, now that I think about it. Jaysen got them the job. Raven does the creative composing work and is our viewpoint character into the theatre. Magpie took over an inn that we haven't seen since, and spends the rest of the time sulking or shrieking.
We did learn that Raven's convinced the Manager to spend a little extra money to bring in Nightjar (a hornist) and Finch and Verdin (viol-players) and flesh out the orchestra a bit more. And in the midst of chaos, they're sounding pretty good.
Until Crow slips and puts his hand through his drum. Heh.
We also get a summary of what's been going on at the boarding house. It's like Ms. Lackey and Sherman read my complaint a few paragraphs back. Hah.
Fortunately, life at their makeshift boardinghouse home was going a little more smoothly. Granted, there was a whole list of things that still needed major correction. As the season turned towards autumn, the walls had started leaking cold air at night, enough to make candleflames flicker and sometimes even blow out. But even though the Free Bard boarders were beginning to turn a bit of a profit with their dining and laundry services, such repairs would cost more than all of them were making. And so people were correcting what they could with the materials at hand; Sparrow had found some planks “nobody wanted,” and Raven himself had shamelessly swiped a good handful of nails from the theater for some makeshift repairs.
Ah well, Raven mused, at least, drafty walls or no, everyone was getting good, hot, regular meals and had a reasonably bearable bed in which to sleep, and a roof that, even if it occasionally rained bits of old birds’ nests or the odd groggy insects down on everyone, was almost leak-free. Or so he thought, until after dinner that night.
You know what's funny about this?
There's no mention of business leader Magpie doing anything here. She's the one who bullied the boarding house into this weird arrangement after all. What is SHE doing to make it work?
Apparently Jaysen's romantic woes are going less well though. Linnet's playing a little hot and cold and he's gone to Raven for advice, "as a man of the world."
Raven isn't terribly helpful, as his answer to the question of what women want is "the same thing we all do" (i.e. happiness) and he refuses to dispense advice, claiming it will make things worse. He does reassure Jaysen that Linnet is interested in him, and maybe even in love, and Jaysen is in love with her, so it will probably work itself out.
Really, Jaysen, this dude's romantic option right now is fucking Magpie. Do you WANT his advice?
If only, Raven thought the next morning, everything else was as clear to read as young love. Jaysen was clearly more hopeful, and Linnet flushed a delicate pink every time she looked at him. On the other hand, Magpie was as cool as ever, and not one of his attempts at conversation met with more than a frigid “Oh? Indeed?” I’d better not ask her to pass the tea, he thought with resignation. She’ll make it undrinkably cold if she touches it. And she’ll surely sour the cream. He managed a certain amount of conversation with Finch and Verdin-enough to make the meal palatable, at any rate. They left in a group, but he trailed along in the rear, rather than risk accidentally getting in Magpie’s way and earning another sharp set-down.
Why is this the romantic pairing of the novel? WHY?
Anyway, Raven does end up overhearing something interesting from the back of the group though. A street preacher. Oof, that's a bad sign.
“… and so I say to you,” the preacher, a lean, sinewy fellow who looked as though he never laughed, said sonorously to his small, bemused audience, “the theater is a snare wherein the Forces of Evil trap the souls of those who come to see these immoral plays!”
Raven has a Bard's sense of mischief, and this isn't Gradford where the street preachers have impunity.
“Immoral?” Raven drawled, strolling forward. “Sir Preacher-forgive me if I don’t have your title correct- what is so immoral about a play wherein true-hearted lovers are united, virtue triumphs, villainy and lechery are defeated and exposed, and everyone lives happily ever after? Not a bit of impropriety, I promise you, in A Twice-Told Tale,” he raised his voice just enough to catch the attention of the preacher’s audience, “the new comedy to open at the Duke of Kingsford’s Company Theater in a fortnight.”
With that, he bowed more to the gathered watchers, turned dramatically, wishing he had a cloak to snap out behind him, and walked away, closely followed by the other Free Bards. Behind him, he could hear the preacher frantically trying to regain the dispersing audience’s attention with a fierce, “The demons speak beguiling words! These players are whores, I tell you, common whores masquerading as honest entertainers!”
“Now that’s really going to keep people away,” Raven murmured to the others. “He might as well be selling tickets to the play.”
Hah.
Nightjar admires his nerve, and Raven is understandably pleased with himself. Sadly, the mood in the theater is less jovial, as they find the actors clustered around a sobbing extra.
She'd been knocked over by a falling tree (not real of course), fortunately she wasn't hurt, but it was a scary experience. The rehearsal continues more comedically as "Sir Verrick" draws his sword - or rather the hilt as the sword itself is stuck in the sheath.
There's also a fun note where Raven muses about how the actor playing the vengeful Sir Verrick is a nice, gentle fellow who likes birdwatching. I really do like how involved Raven is getting with the theater in general. It makes it easy to be emotionally invested in its success.
Honestly, that's what's so frustrating about the Magpie shit. Everything ELSE is fun. Raven is fun, Jaysen's silly crush is fun, the theater is fun. I really think this story could have been told without her and it'd be better for it.
There's more disasters over the next few days, culminating in the disappearance of Flora's mask. This is interesting because for the first time, we do get to see Regina genuinely angry, as she denies having misplaced it.
It's a good time for some bardic interference actually.
Raven stepped forward, deciding that someone ought to intervene before the Manager or Regina said something unforgivable. Better him, an outsider, than anyone else. “Did you see the mask, Mistress Gerna? Or any sign that someone else had been in the Wardrobe Room?’
Mistress Gerna shrugged helplessly. “Didn’t notice,” she admitted. “Who’d want to bother mere stage costumes? They’re all false fur and imitation silk. It’s not as if you could actually wear them anywhere but onstage!”
It occurs to me that I kind of wish Magpie had gotten this part instead, if only because we've already seen Raven's investment in the theatre, and it might have been nice to see Magpie do more than glower uselessly this chapter.
Fortunately, Nightjar ends up spotting it in the audience area. And everyone is relieved and bewildered.
Oh, Magpie does get to observe something useful though.
“Raven, look,” Magpie murmured the next morning. “Your preacher friend has been replaced.” Raven looked, and didn’t like what he saw. This well-fed fellow in elegantly cut clerical robes was, without a doubt, a fully ordained priest of the Church And a more sly, more false creature I never saw, Raven thought in distaste. Press his hand and feel oil, touch his honor and see tears. But underneath the slime …ah, I don’t like the coldness in those flat eyes. Petty evil, yes, but evil nevertheless.
Priest the man might be, but the gist of his sermon was the same as that useless preacher: the theater was the home of sinners, and honest folk, folk in fear of the safety of their immortal souls should stay away from such shameful places.
“Not going to jest with him?” Nightjar asked wryly. Raven gave her a sour grin. “There are limits.”
“For you?” Magpie s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Did you ever stop to think that your little jest might have sent that relatively harmless preacher straight to his superiors? And given us this full-fledged enemy instead?”
Yes, it's Raven's fault that the Church hates entertainment, Magpie.
I mean, look, Magpie has every right to find Raven obnoxious. But this is the main romantic pairing of the book, and we're in Chapter Eight, and the ONLY thing she seems to like about him is how he looks. She doesn't seem to think he's smart or funny or interesting or anything like that. SO WHY AM I SUPPOSED TO BE INVESTED IN THIS ROMANCE???
Raven merely says that the new preacher isn't an enemy, just a man with too much time on his hands. He points out that the theater is owned by the Duke and the Church won't fuck with them.
Magpie is skeptical, and Raven admits to himself that he is too. Though he's also figuring that a theater troupe would hardly be a major target for something as vast as the Church. Hm. Maybe. Unless the DUKE is the real target. I suppose we'll have to see.
Anyway, the chapter ends here.