Chapter 43: 52. The Nellywing Opera House

Rorri

 

“I really hate the voice you do for Ronny the Rabbit,” Rorri grumbled partway through the group’s final rehearsal. Bilge and Adar were crouched knee-to-knee behind the hastily-crafted puppet stand, and Rorri sat against the pastel-painted wall, watching their sock puppets bounce, their mouths flapping with the mens’ sharp falsettos.

Adar sighed. “We’ve been over this…”

“I know, but—”

“The kids’ll love it, mate,” Bilge said, waving dismissively. “You – er, Ronny the Rabbit, I mean – He’s the main character, innit?”

“I thought Adam the Armadillo was the main character?” Adar cut in.

Bilge shifted and cleared his throat. “Nuffin’ wrong wif bein’ a side characta’…”

Their employer appeared from around the corner, hovering behind the room’s half-door entrance, and shortly after, the opera house’s walls buzzed with people filing in. Bilge got up to say hello, and Rorri instinctively slunk closer to Adar. He struggled to reign in his tapping and bouncing, knowing the importance of appearances in places of affluence. He wished he could simply disappear, leave no trace of his presence for anyone to remark on, but as the chattering grew denser, Rorri knew he had reached the point of no return. The kids would arrive soon. He discretely took the Snow he’d hidden in the band of his pants, nibbled the flower off of the stem, and pocketed the evidence. Nobody seemed to notice…

 

But, as Bilge turned away from the door, a dark expression shadowed his face. He had only glimpsed the forest elf from the corner of his eye, but Rorri’s shifting eyes told him all he needed to know.

 

*******

 

Bilge greeted the parents and their kids with the human hand-grabbing ritual, laughing, joking, and smiling. If it weren’t for his natural charisma, the atmosphere would have quickly become unbearably awkward. Only a handful of elves attended, and neither Rorri nor Adar were accustomed to human social etiquette. Rorri stood as far from the door as he could, hands folded in front of him, avoiding eye contact with the guests, and Adar stood beside him, purposely maintaining it.

“I hate this,” Rorri muttered to Adar. “I can feel them s-staring at me.”

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“You’re probably the first forest elf any of them have ever seen,” Adar replied, a little too loudly. Rorri bristled, sensing even more eyes on him.

“Do humans know that it’s rude to stare?” he grumbled, fixing his gaze on his feet and his focus on staying still.

“I think so, yes,” Adar said. “They’re not staring at me, at least, but silver elves are fairly common.” He nodded at a woman whose eyes met his briefly, but she hurried away.

Rorri gave a drawn-out sigh. “How long is this thing supposed to go on f-for?”

“Oh, I dunno…” Adar glanced at the ceiling, one eye squinted. “Like… three hours, maybe, including the intermission?”

Rorri groaned. “Please, Adar, if you care for me at all, just…”

A pale figure came into his view, stealing the words from his mouth.

Her toes had just passed over the threshold when she stopped dead in her tracks, eyes as frozen on him as his were on her. She was ushering in two white elf children by their shoulders, her bosom nearly spilling, bound by an absurdly tight blush-colored gown with a magpie-and-pearl brooch pinned over her heart. Paint whited out the pink points of her nose and ears, and a thick layer of purple powder hid the veins around her eyes. He might not have recognized her at all if it wasn’t for the yellow-green stone dangling from the chain around her neck, and the shock that colored her otherwise colorless face.

Shacia straightened up and took a few slow steps back, stumbling into the human behind her. She whipped around and uttered a quick, high-pitched apology, stole one more glance at her tutee, then slipped away, leaving the two children where they stood. Rorri made brief, panicked eye contact with them, but they just toddled to their seats, unfazed and uninterested in the shaken forest elf.

“…kill me,” Rorri finished, his voice reduced to nearly nothing. Adar narrowed his eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “You look like you’ve just shat yourself.”

“I have – I mean – ugh,” Rorri shook his head, snapping out of his trance. “I’ll t-tell you about it later…”

“You say that a lot, you know. You never told me about that secret thing you mentioned outside the warehouse, or—”

“Not now,” Rorri hissed with a sharp glare. He glanced back to the half-door, past the line of people, seeking his tutor’s silhouette, but she was gone like a ghost into the night.

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