Читать книгу The Last Musician - Jason Peterson - Страница 15

“Did you hear that?”

Alistair paused, and Ogg nearly ran into him.

“Ogg only hear voices in Ogg’s head. They tell Ogg Alistair should read more poetry.”

“Music,” said Alistair.

“Ogg not hear no music.”

“I thought I heard some kind of flute earlier, but I figured it was the wind. Or your gastrointestinal excesses. But that was definitely singing. It’s far off, but the forest carries music far and wide.”

Alistair crouched and placed his ear to the ground.

“I haven’t heard music since just before we met with the muses. I didn’t think of it before, but…” he let his gaze settle on the bag Ogg had set down on the ground.

“But of course,” he said. “How could I have been so obtuse? It’s obvious.”

“Ogg confused.”

“Let’s just say, Ogg, the cargo you are carrying is precious indeed.”

Ogg scratched himself and shrugged his shoulders.

“Ogg need to push again.”

“Okay Ogg, you push,” Alistair said. After Ogg lumbered away, Alistair said, “I do believe my fee has just increased dramatically. How’s that for poetry?”