As Sage and Ozan walked down the dirt path towards his family farm, the gentle sound of Ozan's lute filled the air. Sage couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding as the notes mingled with the scent of grass and earth. The music seemed to carry a sense of longing and anticipation that only intensified the knot in Sage's gut. He could feel the tension in his muscles as he tried to keep his steps steady, his heart pounding in time with the melody.

As they crested the hill, Sage spotted his father in the courtyard, kneeling behind a tall figure that was bathed in shadow. Sage's hand shot out, pressing against the strings of the lute to silence the music. He held a finger to his lips, and Ozan nodded, crouching down beside him.

A sense of dread seeped down Sage's back. He didn't know what was going on, but he knew it wasn't good. Where was his mother? Was she safe inside? They needed to get closer.

There were several boulders along the hill, including one just a few yards down the hill and to the side of the road. Careful not to make any noise, Sage adjusted the satchel on his back, held his crook parallel to the ground, and crept forward until he was hidden behind the large rock.

A moment later, Ozan was beside him.

With one hand gripping at the lichen-covered stone and the other shading his eyes, Sage peaked around and squinted. The two figures were still engaged in a heated discussion and hadn't seemed to notice his or Ozan's arrival. Sage strained to make out any of the words spoken, but the breeze muffled their voices.

As he watched, the tall figure stepped forward, towards Phillip's kneeling form. Sage's heart sank and he let out a breath as he recognized the slicked-back silver hair and smooth cheeks of Sterling.

The god's presence was unnerving, and Sage felt his blood run cold at the thought of what he might be doing on his family's property.

"Who is that?" the bard whispered into Sage's ear.

"That's Sterling, the god of wealth," Sage hissed back.

Ozan nodded solemnly, then reached out one hand and patted Sage's shoulder. "If he's here, at least that means he is not trying to steal Violet away or, worse, make a deal with Timaeus. But," the bard hesitated, "what business does Sterling have with your father?"

Sage shrugged. "I have a suspicion, but don't know for certain. Either way, my father seems in trouble."

They stayed behind the rock a moment longer, catching only a word or two that was caught in the wind, but knowing from the body language–Phillip's cowering, Sterling's pacing–that both of them were in unpleasant moods.

"Let's get closer," Ozan suggested, gesturing towards another, larger boulder that was further down the hill.

Sage gave a single nod and then laid down on his stomach, and holding his crook in one fist, crawled through the tall grasses, a cat sneaking up on its prey. A moment later, Ozan swung his lute on his back and did the same.

As Sage crawled through the grass towards the second boulder, his thoughts raced through his mind. He couldn't help but feel a mix of fear and anxiety about what was to come. His heart pounded in his chest, and he could feel the sweat on his palms making it harder to grip his crook. He tried to control his breathing, taking slow and steady breaths to calm his nerves. With each inch he moved forward, his anticipation grew, wondering what the outcome of this encounter would be. Not only was Sterling a god, but he was under the spell of a powerful love potion, and that was a dangerous combination.

By the time they had reached their next hiding spot, they could finally make out the words being spoken.

"But, like I said, I have already provided you with three sheep. I gave you all that silver after I sold them to the tavern," Phillip said in a whimper. "That should get me access to Mount Ovidia."

Sage gritted his teeth. "Bastard," he snarled, clenching his fists against the boulder they were hiding behind. He thought of the three sheep that had gone missing after the wolf attack and the mud that had been on his father's boots. Phillip must have snuck away with them after he helped Violet bring the dead lamb back to her home.

Then he had another thought. His father said he had sold them, not sacrificed them. Did that mean that those sheep he heard after visiting Tawny had been from his own flock? And he hadn't recognized them?

This meant his father was just as much to blame for his predicament as Sterling was. More so, even! Timaeus would have forgiven one lost lamb, but those three additional sheep had made him suggest that the marriage contract between Violet and Sage was in jeopardy.

What did Phillip owe to Sterling? Why was he under his control? As some details became clearer, others were more confusing than ever.

Sage placed his hands on his knees to stand, desperately wanting to step out from behind the rock and confront his father. To take back control. But Ozan put a hand on Sage's shoulder, silently urging him to stay put and listen.

Sterling's voice boomed through the air. "I no longer care about sheep. Or silver. Or toll roads. My plans have changed. I am only interested in finding Violet, and you will help me. You will, or else."

Sage's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Violet's name. He had to stop Sterling, but he also knew he had to be careful.

He whispered to Ozan, "We have to stop him. I can't let him take Violet."

Ozan nodded, his eyebrows furrowing and his lower lip jutting out as he held his lute's strap and brought the instrument under his arm. Then, without saying a word, he placed his fingers along the strings and strummed a melody.

The bard's music started off softly, a gentle melody that slowly crept into Sage's ears, then flowed down the hill and caught the attention of both Phillip and Sterling. As Ozan stood and walked down the grassy slope, Sage felt his own heart calm down. There was something different about this song. It was as if the music was casting a spell on everyone who could hear it. Sage had never realized how powerful music could be.

As the song progressed, the music gradually grew louder, and the tempo quickened. Sage felt his heart racing as the melody reached a crescendo, filling the air with a powerful energy.

The magic of the bard's melody seemed to have a profound effect on Sterling. As he listened, Sage could see the tension in the god's body ease, and his eyes became glazed over and he slowly swayed.

Then Ozan opened his mouth and sang. The lyrics were a love song, but one dedicated to wealth:

"Money is power, wealth is might,

Love is weak, a fleeting delight.

To be the master of your own fate,

Fortune and gold must always take the weight.

For the sweetest pleasure, the greatest high,

Is to see your riches rise and touch the sky.

Let the love of money fill your heart and mind,

For only then true power you will find.

Let love be forgotten, let riches reign,

For Sterling's true nature to be restored again."

Sage watched in amazement as the spell seemed to work. Sterling's eyes blinked rapidly, and he stumbled backwards. He swiveled his head around quickly, an expression of shock and bewilderment on his face. It was like he had been woken up suddenly from a dream and did not know where he was.

Then, the god's eyes fell upon Phillip, who seemed equally confused, and he scowled. "I don't know what trick this is, but I'll find out." Suddenly, the god disappeared into thin air, leaving Phillip alone in the courtyard.

Phillip turned his head and looked over at Ozan, who had stopped playing, but was still holding his lute. "Who are you?" he demanded.

Before Ozan could answer, Sage stood up. He breathed out a sigh of relief and stepped out from behind the rock, ready to confront his father. As he did so, his mother, Telethusa, appeared in the courtyard, looking concerned.

"What is going on here?" she asked.

"Mother, you are all right!" Sage exclaimed and ran down the hill and past Ozan and his father.

"Sage?" she asked, turning. Seeing him, her eyes went wide. "Sage!" she repeated. "Sage! Of course I am all right, but you... you..."

He fell into her arms, squeezing her.

"Where were you?" She grabbed the sides of his face and brought his forehead to hers. "Where on earth did you go?"

"I–" he tried to answer.

But Telethusa interrupted him. "Don't you dare ever do that again!" she yelled, the words ringing his ears.

"I won't, I won't! I promise!"

Then she hugged him tight again.

After several moments, she let Sage go, turning her attention back to Phillip, and then, just noticing for the first time, to Ozan. "What is going on out here?" she repeated her earlier question.

But before Phillip could say anything, Sage answered for him, glaring at his father. "He stole three of my sheep to give them to Sterling, and Sterling was here to demand more from him!"

Telethusa gasped, looking at Phillip with a mixture of disbelief and anger. "How could you?" she said. "We are honest people. Why would you bring this upon us?"

"That is something that I would love to know, too," Sage said, balling his fists.

Phillip opened his mouth, but no words came out.