I Read What?!

So last time, there was a job offer and our lead character gets subjected to even more unchallenged racism. Fantastic.

I suppose it's realistic that the white heroes growing up in the society presented in the book would have some racist ideas. That's true in real life too. We've got things to unlearn over time. But it feels harsher in this book.

Rune had a fair amount of childhood experience with traveling Roma musicians at least. And the one time she does express some racist assumptions outloud, Talaysen corrects her and they move on. Kestrel isn't overtly racist, though it's possible that their differing cultures may have been an element in the communication issues between him and Robin. Something that they eventually end up addressing, with both of them acknowledging fault and the intention to improve.

But we've seen two separate characters "say" downright nasty things in their narrative thoughts without any kind of acknowledgment or correction and honestly, it sets my teeth on edge. Especially since one of these characters is being positioned as a love interest. Right now, I'm inclined to want Raven to take Crow and run far away from these assholes.



Ugh, this chapter starts with Magpie.

I feel guilty for that sentiment but so far, she hasn't made a particularly great showing. Lackey and Sherman perhaps realize this because the very first paragraph is an excuse for her behavior.

Magpie had always been a worrier; she hadn’t had a choice. If she didn’t worry about her troupe s problems, no one else would.

We're going to see a lot of that. Magpie's backstory IS admittedly sympathetic. But there's a point where the sympathetic backstory stops being effective as a counter-measure to a character's unlikable tendencies. You know, when there's no sign that a character is even trying to improve themselves.

Anyway, we reach the end of the Faire. The Free Bards all scatter off into their new "Companies" and well...

Magpie saw Raven drawn aside by Nightingale, and tensed, positive she was about to see some grand, romantic farewell scene that would end any hope of her having a chance with him.

I want to sympathize with this woman, but thus far, I've seen no indication of why she wants "a chance" with Raven anyway. I like Raven well enough, but does Magpie? She's done very little to actually express that!

I mean, look at this following paragraph:

Oh, don’t be ridiculous! she scolded herself. You don’t want to have a chance with him. You saw the way he acted with all the women who came to see us perform. He’d only toy with you, just as he played at flirting with them. Huh. If flirting was all he’d done. He can’t be serious with any woman, you know that. He’s just like all those handsome young actors you used to know, the ones who couldn’t think beyond the next meal, the next drink, the next woman, or the next performance. They didn’t even have the capacity to be serious, and neither does he.

Except, maybe, with Nightingale?

Why, if you believe this of the guy, would you WANT a chance with him?

It's also pretty bizarre to me that a woman who supposedly grew up with a group of players doesn't understand that a musician or actor pretty much has to play to the audience. And if they're an attractive man and the audience includes women, that's going to include flirting.

I'm not saying that Magpie has to put up with that from a partner if she doesn't want to. But then, maybe, she should date someone whose livelihood doesn't depend on an audience.

I mean, she could also ASK Raven about his romantic leanings. But that would require treating him like a person.

Amusingly, Nightingale has noticed their audience.

“She’s watching us,” Nightingale murmured, her voice warm with sympathy and a touch of amusement. Raven did not even bother to look; he had other things on his mind. “Magpie?” he said brusquely. “Nonsense.”

“She is,” Nightingale insisted, shaking back her long, dark hair. “Probably expecting something dramatic and passionate between us, the poor bewildered youngster.”

“And … is she going to get her wish?” Raven asked, moving a little closer and only half in jest.

Honestly, these two have far more chemistry in one scene than Raven's had with Magpie in four chapters. But I don't blame Raven for dismissing Magpie, because there's been no indicator of any kind of behavior from her (outwardly, anyway) that she's interested.

Nightingale lets him down gently:

“Raven, Raven, we both know there never was anything between us other than a brief exchange of joy. We are too much alike, and at the same time, much too different, for there to ever be more than that. So stop giving me that stricken-lover look, and take pity on your clever, pretty flutist. I think,” the woman added thoughtfully, her eyes all at once very dark and mysterious, full of Bardic power, “you will find more to her than you ever found with me.”

Raven is understandably skeptical. He doesn't understand that Nightingale is the kind of character that speaks the voice of God (read: the authors) to tell us which couple we should root for. You know, rather than actually establish any real chemistry between the characters.

Nightingale gives him a cool, "totally impersonal" peck on the cheek which Raven thinks might be an act for Magpie. But when he looks, Magpie is studiously polishing her flute and not paying attention to them at all.

And just as a ship tease:

Magpie? he mused, then nearly laughed aloud. That obstinate-minded, sharp-edged little-Not a chance, Nightingale, not a chance.

I know I'm supposed to chuckle at his obliviousness to the belligerent sexual tension, but honestly, I think this is a very reasonable reaction. Magpie's both done nothing to express any interest in him outwardly, and she's not been particularly likable either. Why WOULD he be interested?

So we're back to Magpie, who gives us some description of Kingsford (with possible foreshadowing).

The Faire, Magpie thought, might be over, but that hadn’t made the narrow streets of Kingsford any emptier. On all sides the city’s half-timbered wooden buildings of two or even three stories loomed over them, upper stories overhanging the bottom and topped by slate tiles or thatching.

The grander structures stood proudly alone, surrounded by a token of unused space, but most of the buildings were crammed in together seemingly at random, some of them sagging against each other, looking as though they were leaning together in drunken companionship. Wonderful for thieves, Magpie thought, or lovers. You could step from one building to the next without anyone being the wiser. But oh, what do they do in case of fire? It would spread like-well, like wildfire.

We also get MORE traumatic backstory as Magpie remembers being a little girl when her mother's troupe passed through a burned out town. She's been haunted for years at the sight of the charred buildings and empty-eyed survivors.

We are reassured that the city has fire brigades, wells on every corner, and likely mages with fire control spells.

There is a moment of relatability when Magpie catches sight of merchants selling some last minute merchandise, spotting a glint of jewelry and feels some momentary yearning. Right now, she doesn't have coin for trinkets. Maybe later.

This does lead her to a question for the group. The audition is one thing, but where will they live?

Jaysen has an answer for that, leading to some cute banter.

“Oh, yes,” he said, just a touch too readily. “There’s a-a boardinghouse not too far from the theater. I… uh… I stay there myself.”

Raven chuckled. “With someone?” he asked innocently, and laughed again when Jaysen reddened. “Is that the way of it, eh?”

“No! I mean not-not really. It’s just-I—” He broke off with an audible sigh of relief. “Here’s the theater now.” He was clearly relieved that he would not have to actually answer Raven s question.

Thank you, Ms. Lackey and Sherman. I'd like to see more actual banter between these characters. I want to like them but there's not much of a dynamic to work with yet.

We get a description of the theater:

The theater was bigger than Magpie had expected, bigger than any of the makeshift Guild dancing halls, a half-timbered building fully three stories tall, almost totally filling the square in which it was set and surrounded by a neat little drainage ditch. An equally neat little bridge led across the ditch, which was half-full of what Magpie hoped was simply clean river water. The bridge led to a paved landing in front of the grand main entranceway, which was all of intricately carved oak. Over the oaken door, which was firmly shut and bolted, hung two ornamental hooks; these, Magpie guessed, would hold signboards announcing whatever play the Company was to perform that day, just as the flagpole that towered over the slate roof probably flew the Duke’s flag whenever the theater was open.

It's pretty swanky. Clearly the Duke is putting some real money in it. There's more:

She stood in near darkness in the common yard, where those folk too cheap or poor to buy a seat would pay a penny for the privilege of watching the performance on their feet. She faced the stage itself, while all around her tier after tier of seats rose up nearly the entire height of the building. The rafters were so far overhead they were lost in shadow, but everywhere else was splendor-or at least the theaters brave imitation of splendor. The floral carvings on every exposed bit of wood were real enough, but the gilding was only paint, and though those mighty columns might look like the most exquisite of marble, Magpie’s trained eye recognized cleverly painted wood when she saw it.

Don't worry, Magpie won't get lost in wonder for the theater for long:

But only for a moment. The theater, as she knew only too well, was a trollop, promising everything and delivering nothing. Idiot, she snapped at herself. One moment in here and you start behaving like a stagestruck little twit!

Indeed.

She notes that she can't tell Raven's thoughts from his face. His voice is neutral when he asks after the manager.

So we get to see the guy and he's definitely got a major character level of detail:

The man looked sharply up, eyes wide with surprise. Then he got slowly to his feet, looking the Free Bards up and down with a blatantly critical gaze. Magpie watched their prospective employer carefully, from under modestly lowered lashes. So, now… middle-aged, medium height, balding, running just a bit to flesh… clever, deep-set, melancholy dark eyes, sensitive, downturned mouth: the sort of fellow, Magpie summarized to herself, who probably looked morose even when he was enjoying himself.

He seems like a peach of a guy and singles out Raven first.

‘The, uh, Free Bards I mentioned, yes. May I present—”

But the Manager waved him to silence. His glance froze on Raven. “You! Have you ever acted?”

“Frequently,” the [Roma] said drily. “Ah, you meant on a stage!”

“Of course on a stage!” The Manager circled him, or tried to. Raven circled with him, keeping the man away, Magpie realized, from his blind side. The Manager stopped short. “A pity you have that eye patch. You would have made a fine Ithalo, all sleek, suave villainy, or maybe even-But you do have that patch.”

“Forgive me.” Sarcasm dripped from the words. “I lost that eye battling Chevenchi nomads in the Plains War. Lost an eye, but sent their war chief shrieking down to his Dark Earth Gods. You think there’s something shameful about that?”

The guy gets flustered and apologetic. Magpie shows herself to definitely be love interest material:

Don’t bait him, Raven, she pleaded silently. Stories are all well and good, but you’ll lose us our jobs before we even have them! Raven stared boldly at the Manager and looked about to retort with yet another tale, so Magpie hastily cut in: “But those battles were all long ago, weren’t they, Raven? Long before you became a Free Bard. This good man is plainly very busy. We don’t want to waste his time with old tales from our past that likely wouldn’t interest him.”

I mean, I suppose she's not wrong. It ISN'T wise to bait your would-be employer. But I note that there's no real acknowledgment that MAYBE Raven has some right to be annoyed at the guy's implied racism and overt ableism? Especially since they're auditioning as musicians rather than actors.

The guy does admit that while he writes most of the plays they perform, he can't write music. And the Duke is looking for more complex music to accompany the plays - Jaysen, while a professional performer, isn't enough anymore.

Magpie picks up on the guy's irritation and flatters him a bit. We also get this:

Out of the comer of her eye, Magpie saw Raven stirring impatiently, dark face full of suppressed fury; clearly he was fuming about the way she had taken over. I know you’re supposed to be in charge, she told him silently, but all you were doing was antagonizing the man! I know what to do.

The Manager did seem to think she was the little group’s leader. Moreover, he was almost smiling openly now, apparently much mollified by her soothing words. “Shall we perform for you now?” Magpie asked sweetly.

He bowed; he actually, courteously bowed. “If you would.” She caught Raven s glare again; it was a little alarming to see how sinister a frown made that dark, narrow face look: positively piratical-no, like the villainous Ithalo, indeed. Never mind. Someone had to take charge, and he wasn’t going to say anything useful. At least I don’t think he was going to say anything useful And he certainly seemed to be going out of his way to irritate the man.

So I feel like this really gets into what I dislike about the writing for Magpie. I think her taking over to smooth things over with the manager was a good thing. And if she's reading Raven correctly (her track record has been great so far), then he's kind of being a dick.

But the dismissiveness toward the idea that he could possibly have something to add to the discussion is not great when this is supposed to be our primary romantic couple.

So they play. At one point, Raven passive aggressively suggests the tune "if it suits your ladyship" Because yep, they're definitely full of romantic chemistry.

Anyway, the Manager loves them, and offers them ten pieces of silver weekly as wages. They all accept. The Manager admits to them after that some Guild musicians had auditioned earlier, but he didn't care for their attitude or their lifeless, stiff music. Or what they want to be paid.

“Never mind the amount we expected to be paid,” Raven murmured in Magpie’s ear, and she gave him a quick glare. Maybe he could do better in a good week of busking, but this was safe, steady, honest work, with no uncertainty about it! And there would be no days, weeks, of going home from the street with nothing more than a few pins, because wretched weather had driven everyone from the outdoors but fools and Free Bards.

I ship them so hard, you guys. So, so hard. Ugh.

Also, pretty sure that as a professional musician, Raven knows full well what he could earn. And he'd agreed to the price like the others. So you could calm your narration down, Magpie...

The Manager dismisses them, but not without more complaints about the Guild musicians acting like the plays came second to their music. He's glad that the Free Bards appreciate fine theater. And they'll meet tomorrow to block out where and how the music will fit into the play.

So this is interesting, because we don't actually know if any of these characters have the relevant skills to DO this. I suppose there's likely no danger of being sued for copyright infringement, but it'd probably help if someone in the group has some arranging or composing skill...

Since this was a short chapter, let's go onto the next. Maybe I'll be less annoyed.

--

So they've got the job. Now it's time to go find a place to live. Jaysen is weirdly nervous:

Why was he suddenly so nervous? Magpie glanced uneasily at Raven, and frowned to see the Gypsy chuckling to himself. “Raven?” she whispered. “What ails the boy?”

“Wait,” he murmured back, smiling, at his most infuriatingly obtuse. “Follow Jaysen. I suspect our little mystery is about to be solved quite predictably!”

So they follow Jaysen into a part of town that is "definitely not the finest" but also not the worst. It's clean, if in poor repair. Lots of weavers and tailors and shops.

As for their destination:

The two-story building might have been nice at one time, but that time had been long, long ago. Now it sagged wearily to one side, the roof tiles cracked, and in some places, missing altogether. Magpie guessed from the flecks of white dotting its half-timbered walls that they might have been whitewashed once, but that had clearly been a good many years back. The walls themselves were so worn that here and there the boards showed through from beneath the exterior plaster.

Jaysen gave the Bards a faint, apologetic smile. “I… uh … know it doesn’t look like much—”

“Correct,” Raven muttered, dourly. He was clearly not amused. Well, for once, Magpie was in agreement with him. “-but, well, I—” Jaysen floundered.

“You are infatuated with the wife of the owner.” Raven folded his arms over his chest, and let the eyebrow over his good eye rise significantly.

Raven's a bit less amused now, indeed. And no, Jaysen's not infatuated with the owner, who is a widow, but her DAUGHTER on the other hand...

Well, we get to meet her too:

Instantly charming, he swept down in a grand bow. The girl who’d come timidly down the slanting stairway froze, hand at her heart. A pretty thing, Magpie thought, if you liked them fragile as the proverbial flower. The girl s face was heart shaped, with delicate features flushing the faintest shade of pink. The tendrils of hair straggling free from her long braids were so pale a blond they were almost white. The only color to her was her wide eyes of true, clear violet: worried, timid, weary eyes. “I’m sorry,” she murmured apologetically, “I didn’t hear you enter, and I-Oh. Jaysen.”

His gaze was the devoted stare of the spaniel. A moment more, Magpie decided cynically, and he would be licking her hand. “Linnet, I’ve brought your mother some new tenants. If-if that’s all right?"

Magpie finds the idea of a non-Bard with a bird name ironic. Linnet tells them that there are vacant rooms but they're shorthanded, since her mother is ill. Nothing catching, she's quick to clarify.

We meet the mother too:

“Nonsense.” A woman appeared on the stairway, moving slowly and painfully. Both Linnet and Jaysen hurried up to help her descend. As Magpie saw her more clearly, she just barely managed to stifle a gasp. Madam Shenna’s daughter’s fragile prettiness was painfully echoed here as the faintest ghost of beauty. Ghost, indeed, Magpie thought uneasily, seeing how skeletally thin the woman was, her nearly colorless skin stretched taut over too-prominent bones. Death has already set Its hand on her.

Raven must have realized the same thing. But with a kindness Magpie would never have expected of him, he let not the slightest hint of pity show on his face. Instead, he bowed as graciously to the woman as to a fine lady, then offered her his arm.

So Raven charms the woman a bit, and Magpie forces herself to keep silent and let Raven have a chance to "at last take charge", though she does think he settles on a sum that is "excessive" perhaps out of pity.

Then she gets a look at the room. Which is bad.

But then she opened the door to the small, dismal room she’d been given, and stopped short. Its floor looked as though it had not been swept in over a year, the linens on the rickety cot had been left unaired for far too long, and a nasty draft slipped through cracks in the wall and down the tiny fireplace that probably hadn’t been lit since the owner had fallen ill.

And dinner's likely to be worse. Which leads to Magpie taking charge in a very Magpie way.

“This,” she said, “is ridiculous.” As the others looked at her in surprise, and Madame Shenna and her daughter in alarm, Magpie added impatiently, “I cannot live like this, I don’t think any of us can. And what’s more, I don’t think any of us need to!”

“Magpie,” Jaysen murmured, his eyes wide with apprehension. “I don’t—”

“Now, what we have to do here,” she continued, ignoring him, “is set some sort of a deal.” She’d been working on the details from the moment she’d sat down to … well, it could hardly be called dinner. “Madam Shenna,” Magpie told the woman, “if you are willing to give free room and board—” At the word “free,” their landlady started to protest, but Magpie had no trouble in keeping her from interrupting; she was either too submissive or too polite to do so.

So anyway, Magpie basically bullies the woman to give free room and board to people who will do the work there. Then sends Jaysen to the Faire camp to collect a good number of "volunteers" who haven't signed up for Companies yet.

And for ship moments we get:

It’ll never work,” Raven said flatly. She frowned at him. “Oh, you’re just annoyed because it’s not your idea.”

“I’m not—” he protested.

“You are.” Smiling sweetly at the fuming [Roma], Magpie waved at Jaysen and Crow; they left their seats and she settled back in her chair to wait. She looked confident, but what she was really thinking was: If this doesn’t work, oh my, am I going to look foolish!

They've got such a great dynamic.

That said, they do get some volunteers after all. Including Owl, who is quick to volunteer to cook. His grandson Sparrow is there too, to help run errands, do dishes, and clean. Raven tells Magpie that they're both Kingsford natives, and the Companies may not have a demand for a comic singer.

I enjoy the call back to Lark and the Wren here, but it seems odd to have Raven be the one explaining why they came, when he was the one skeptical about this endeavor.

Crow brings another arrival, who gets a bit of an intro:

Behind him, a sturdy, black-haired woman nodded, her mahogany-dark skin glinting in the lamplight. “Nightjar I am, horn and hautboy player-and washer of laundry when need be. And these two delicate maidens are all set to do some heavy cleaning.”

The “delicate” maidens behind her were both fair-skinned blondes, tall and powerfully built, though definitely female-and absolutely alike, from the coils of wheat-gold hair on their handsome heads to the red leather shoes on their feet.

“We’re Finch and Verdin,” they said as one, then added with infectious grins, “Our parents named us Isa and lisa.”

“Too terribly sweet, isn’t it?” said one, as Magpie grimaced. “You can see why we’d rather have bird names!” said the other. “We’re both violists, but sure, we’ll help out with the heavy cleaning.”

The innkeeper starts protesting, since they're giivng her more free boarders than paying.

Magpie gets persuasive though, noting that she can now augment the income of the house by serving hot lunches and suppers - with Owl sharing the profits. And Nightjar can run a laundry service.

Nightjar's response ("Uh, sure. I suppose. Might as well.”) indicates the level of planning.

I appreciate that Magpie is able to think very fast, but she's not only running roughshod over Madam Shenna, but also her own colleagues. What if Owl or Nightjar weren't on board with the sudden extra work?

And indeed, Raven ends up pulling her away to have a word with her.

He all but snarled at her. “What the hell do you think you’ve been doing?”

“What?” she spluttered, taken even more by surprise at his vehemence.

“Don’t give me that innocent look!” he replied fiercely. “You’ve been running right over the top of those people down there, taking over their lives as if you had a right to them!”

‘That’s ridiculous!” Magpie shot back. “I did no such thing! What did you want me to do, languish in a corner like that fragile little Linnet? Nobody down there was even trying to take charge of things, and someone certainly had to! Or did you want to go on sleeping in rooms that won’t keep out the winter snows, in beds that a vagrant would disdain, eating food a beggar would pass by?”

“Oh, and is that what you were doing back in the theater?” he asked sarcastically, without answering her question. “Taking charge because we were all fragile little idiots? You didn’t even give anyone else a chance to talk!”

I mean, he has a point.

And I'm supposed to think Magpie does too. She challenges him about his tale of heroic battling last chapter:

“I don’t care what they were! It was obviously a tall tale! There was no reason to have made it up, except that you were trying to prove how much better a man you were than the fellow we were trying to impress with how competent and cooperative we were! Going on the way you were, challenging the Manager with every word-I had to stop you before you talked us right out of a job!”

He stared at her for a moment, then spat, ‘That’s the stupidest—”

“No, it’s not,” she cried, interrupting him, “And you know it! Just because the Manager insulted your pride —”

He looked as if he would like very much to strangle her. “Nonsense! I would never have endangered our chances of—”

‘The group needed a leader!” Magpie cut in acidly. “What did you give them? A storyteller! And not a very convincing one, either! You know the saying, dammit, ‘Lead, follow, or get the hell out of the way!’ Someone had to be the authority back there, or the Manager would have been facing a-a pack of vagabonds, no better than the Bardic Guild says we are! He never would have hired us! Ha, no, he would have thrown us out on our collective ear! You didn’t want the job, but the rest of us did, so I became the leader by default! If you don’t like what I did, you can go find yourself another job! I’m sure that there are places in Kingsford just tagging to employ you!”

I get where Lackey and Sherman are trying to get with Magpie. But I feel like they go too far and too quickly with her.

Maybe she was right to take over at the theater. Or maybe Raven had a point. His story did get the guy to back down a little. There was no real reason to think the posturing would have gone farther.

The scene ends by the way with Raven accusing her of being a pushy nanny, butting in at every opportunity whether or not she's wanted.

Of course, they storm off. Magpie is near tears, continuing to insist in narration that if Raven had acted like a leader instead of reacting to his male pride being damaged, none of this would have happened.

And of course, now is the time for a ship tease. We know Magpie is interested so let's choose now to make it official:

Raven, pacing fiercely back and forth in the small confines of his room, heard Magpie’s door crash shut, and grimaced. Damn the woman! What right had she to be so officious! So stubborn and frustrating and-and-So pretty, whispered his mind, unbidden, in the middle of the argument you had that sudden ridiculous urge to kiss her- Dammit! He shouldn’t let a-a woman upset him like this.

Raven stopped short in the midst of his pacing, forcing himself to take deep, slow breaths, fists clenched, willing himself to be calm, calm- Be calm, dammit! AH right. He’d take this mess step by logical step. Magpie might be maddening as hell sometimes, but all in all, he had to admit she was quite an admirable person. And there was her background to consider. He knew something about it by now; that childhood, what with all the adult burdens descending on her head without rest, had been rough enough to have broken anyone not as strong as she.

And of COURSE, now we get Raven reflecting on her difficult childhood, never knowing if she'd have enough to eat or sleep. How COULD she trust anyone.

...let's ignore the fact that Raven is a Roma. You know, a regular victim of persecution in this culture. Let's ignore that ALL of the Free Bards basically live a performance-to-performance existence.

I do acknowledge that Magpie's backstory is pretty traumatic as described, but so was Robin and Kestrel's, and I never felt like that book was using their backstories to excuse their behavior. Explain it, sure, but there's a difference.

Raven's tune shifts here:

Besides… With a rueful grin, Raven admitted that it hurt his pride to confess this, even to himself, but she really had done a good job of taking care of what could have been a bad situation with the Manager-a better job than he could have managed himself. Ravens grin twisted with sudden sly humor. Chevenchi nomads, indeed! There were such creatures, yes, but not outside obscure myths. He never would have thought to claim kills against such bizarre creatures, not normally. But when the Manager had given him such a scornful look, condemning him and his appearance without a word, he’d had to say something to defend himself.

Ah well. It really was a fortunate thing Magpie had been there to set things right. Yes, and she’d done an amazing job of handling their lodging problem, too, with this ridiculous excuse for a boardinghouse.

Okay, so now we have Raven appreciating Magpie's appeal. That's something at least. But I can't help but notice how far we've gotten from the original point, which is Magpie running roughshod over everyone.

Maybe this will be better for Shenna and Linnet. But Magpie getting what she wants by outright bullying them is not really okay. Nor is the fact that she just up and volunteers Owl and Nightjar for things that she never discussed with them. MAYBE they'd have wanted the extra time to pursue their own projects?

And while I actually do appreciate Raven thinking about Magpie's story and why she's the way she is, it would help me a lot if Lackey and Sherman would give Magpie a similar moment to maybe think about why a Roma man with a missing eye might react badly to being immediately judged as "villainous" and dismissed for a physical injury.

I'm a pretty easy sell on fictional romance. A little can go a long way. But for fuck's sake. Give me something here.

On the plus side, Raven then starts thinking about the job. And we find out that Raven actually IS an arranger and composer. So that's good to know. We also get a really weird tangent about Crow here:

Particularly Crow. Ha, yes, like many another drummer, Crow just sat in the back and provided the rhythm, being perfectly pleased to stay as faceless as- as one of his drums. Raven shook his head. What drove the man? He hardly ever spoke, and almost never ventured any sort of an opinion.

It’s the drumming, Raven decided wryly. It’s pounded all the sense right out of his head. Keeps him in perpetual trance.

...honestly, it kind of sounds like Raven's into Crow here. Go for it dude! He's not been racist toward you at least!

Anyway, Raven decides tomorrow to establish himself as the artistic leader of the group. He knows Magpie will be a problem though and figures out a solution: he doesn't know how to manage a business and doesn't want to. She'd be good at that.

And then we get this:

Grinning anew, Raven got out his fiddle and set about his daily practice. And if Magpie could hear him through the thin walls-Ha, yes, there were the sweet tones of her flute now, playing a tune that sounded teasingly familiar….

Raven choked, nearly dropping his bow as he suddenly recognized it. What Magpie was playing so sweetly, so daintily, and with every indication she knew what she was playing- and that he could hear her-was the melody to a very filthy drinking song!

“Point taken, my dear,” he chuckled. “Point taken.” And just to prove it-and to prove that he could cooperate on the important things-he joined her on the chorus. Take that, my dear! he thought as her flute faltered for a moment. And let’s just see what you make of it!

Hmph. Well, you haven't sold me on this couple yet, Lackey and Sherman. But maybe you can make it work. We'll see how it goes, I guess.