Kurtz exited then. “Bah! That was nothing,” he said, holding out his palm. “Plus, we made fourteen rutahs.”
Mistel gasped. “Even though they hated us?”
“One for each patron,” Kurtz said, “and five from Master Renwall, who said you held the entire room in rapture.” He waggled his eyebrows.
Mistel’s cheeks warmed. “Thanks for dealing with that hunx. It was wrong of me to run out when he was speaking to me, but I couldn’t stomach another word.”
“That’s what I’m here for, lass,” Kurtz said.
“Actually, that’s what I’m here for,” Zanna said, “but had I spoken to him, he might have lost some teeth. So perhaps I owe you a thanks as well, Master Chazir.”
“Well, this is a special moment, it is.” Kurtz tipped his head back to the stars. “Watchers, bear witness to this miracle!”
Cole and Mistel laughed. Zanna shook her head, clearly annoyed. Mercy, the woman still couldn’t lighten up about Kurtz.
“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Cole asked.
“We need to play the Ivory Spit, or Merrygog will throttle me, eh?” Kurtz said.
Playing at the Ivory Spit would be lovely, but this place…“How will we ever get hired at the Black Boar?” she asked. “This audience will have nothing good to say about us.”
“Master Renwall will, thanks to you.” Kurtz winked.
Mistel grimaced and edged closer to Zanna. “I don’t like his sort of compliments.”
“Joonas Erlichman owns the Boar,” Cole said. “If we can connect with him, maybe he’ll ask us to play.”
“Cough up ten golds and go boar hunting,” Kurtz said.
“I couldn’t even get half that for my lute,” Cole said.
“Why don’t I just go to the Black Boar and ask,” Mistel said. “That’s how I got hired here. They might have a Master Renwall-type who does the hiring.”
“You can’t just walk into the Black Boar,” Zanna said. “Even with me at your side, those men will get the wrong idea. But—” She held up her finger to Mistel, whose mouth was open to argue. “Why don’t you set up in the Dale tomorrow? For the festival?”
“Will they have it after the attack today?” Cole asked.
“They’ll insist on it, they will,” Kurtz said. “This is the North. We don’t let something like that affect us.”
Playing outdoors sounded miserably cold. “Will they have us on such short notice?” Mistel asked.
“You won’t be onstage,” Zanna said, “but playing a street corner at the festival is enough to get noticed and invited elsewhere.”
“Don’t hate that idea, I don’t,” Kurtz said. “The Boar is the goal, but give it a little time, eh?”
“Let’s meet at the Dale tomorrow afternoon,” Cole said. “That way we can sleep in.”
“Now you’re speaking my language, you are,” Kurtz said.
“I’ll have to work,” Zanna said, “but I’ll drop Mistel by the Spit on my way.”
Mistel reached out and touched Cole’s arm. “You did wonderful tonight. I’m sorry the crowd was horrible. They won’t all be that way, I promise.”
“Guess I’d better listen to Kurtz next time,” Cole said. “He was right about royalist songs.”
Kurtz growled and crowed, “This is the North!”
Mistel laughed. She and Zanna left the boys and walked toward Fat Vandy’s in silence.
