A Little Night Muse(5)

                Raze tsked at her. “Poor boy, he                     just couldn’t help himself. You are musetta. You                     inspired him.”

                She never bothered with humans. Why waste the breath of                     inspiration on creatures that breathed only a hundred years or so? Making her                     place in the phaedrealii was hard enough since musetta had no real value themselves except what they                     inspired in others. Now she fastened her gaze on the iron key dangling from                     William’s fingers. She pitched her voice as musetta                     did, echoing the smooth slide of rich fabric or fine wine. “Free me,                     William.”

                William hesitated. As a mere human, he shouldn’t have resisted                     her voice. Shouldn’t have wanted to. But her                     influence had waned under the shackles and the fear that pulsed like her                     iron-poisoned blood.

                Raze chuckled. “William wants to keep you here. He forgets a                         musetta can’t be imprisoned.”

                William scowled at the vizier, bold in his passionate idiocy                     the way the Queen preferred her human lovers. Somehow they kept that callow                     foolishness, no matter how long she ensnared them. “I know she can’t stay. The                     Queen is so angry.” Awareness flickered behind his eyes, then vanished in a                         phae haze. “But I’ll make her forget.”

                Raze waved one hand. “Everyone forgets. Makes it damn hard to                     get anything done around here. But before you tra-la-la along, unlock the musetta.”

                Adelyn couldn’t hold back a moan of relief when William fumbled                     at her bindings and the manacles fell away. The phae                     who had survived the Iron Age were resistant to more refined versions of the                     ore, but even the steel-born phae avoided raw iron.                     Tucking her burned wrists against her belly, she glared at William. “Thank you.                     If only these ode-worthy eyes of mine had never glimpsed you.”

                His mouth twisted. “Sweet muse—”

                “You doomed me. Also, your cadence was off and your rhyming                     sucked.” She put all the musetta force into her                     voice. “Go.”