Perception Read online

  Perception

  The Music Maker Series, Book Two

  A. K. R. Scott

  Copyright © 2017 by A. K. R. Scott All rights reserved.

  Cover Design: Deranged Doctor Design

  Select Map Images: Tiffany Munro, aleksm/shutterstock

  Tree Images: Pagina/shutterstock

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  First Edition, 2017

  ISBN-10: 0-9985083-2-2

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9985083-2-0

  www.akrscott.com

  Contents

  The Music Maker Series

  Map

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Thanks for Reading

  Bonus Deleted Scene

  Heart of the Wood

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  The Music Maker Series

  Inharmonic, Book One

  Heart of the Wood, the FREE Inharmonic companion story

  Perception, Book Two

  For my Bestie

  Tap image for interactive map.

  Chapter 1

  The bow burned its way back and forth across the strings in a furious dash toward the end of the piece while Helaine’s fingers danced up and down the neck of her violin. Her long, blonde hair swung to the side as she leaned into a particularly difficult passage.

  It felt good to have the instrument back in her hands again. She closed her eyes, feeling the press of the chin rest beneath her jaw and the bite of the strings beneath her fingers. As she crescendoed through the final phrase, she poured herself into the music, letting it wash back over her in the way she did when she was completely alone.

  Helaine lifted her bow, and silence rushed in to fill the void. She inhaled a deep breath and raised her eyelids.

  “Anything?” asked Petrin.

  A smile spread across her face, and she shook her head. “Nothing.”

  The strange talent that had plagued her since birth—the ability to smell sound—was gone.

  Petrin pursed his lips, but Helaine’s mind was too busy imagining the possibilities to pay heed to his lack of enthusiasm.

  “Do you realize what this means?” she squeaked, placing her instrument on his bed and bouncing over to where he sat. “I’m better. I can be a real musician! Not that I wasn’t a real musician before. But now I can focus on the music—I mean, really focus on it—without that constant distraction.” She grasped Petrin’s hands and pulled him up from his chair, then spun herself under his lanky arm. “It’s like stepping out of a fog you didn’t even know you were walking through and into a bright, crystal-clear, sunshiny day.”

  She spun again under the other arm, but stopped midtwirl when something caught her eye. Petrin’s hand dropped to his side as she scurried over to his bookshelf and picked up the small harp leaning against it. She returned and thrust it into his arms.

  “Play something,” she demanded, with a grin.

  Petrin obliged, pulling a simple melody from the marriage of wood and catgut.

  Helaine closed her eyes and breathed deeply once more. “So, this is what it’s like,” she said with a sigh.

  Petrin stopped playing and stepped around her, tossing the harp onto the bed next to her violin. “This isn’t right.” Crossing over to the window, he rested his hands on his hips and looked out on the vibrant spring day. Helaine’s blissful smile faded as her eyes followed him, and confusion replaced joy.

  “Petrin?”

  He turned. His solemn expression made her suddenly nervous.

  “How is this possible?” he asked.

  She knew it was a rhetorical question. It was the supreme question of her life. How was it possible for someone to smell sound as she had from as far back as she could remember? How was it possible to see sound as her grandmother had?

  And more recently, how was it possible for someone to fall into a days-long sleep so deep she could not be woken? And then, how was it possible for that person to wake on her own with no complications or symptoms of other injury, as if she had merely taken an extended nap?

  Though, perhaps there was one side effect.

  As Helaine held her violin for the first time in a week, and played through one of her favorite pieces, the scent of fresh rain, which always accompanied her performances, was absent. The first clue that something about her had changed presented itself upon her release from the infirmary when Petrin led her down the hallway past the practice rooms. Despite how nicely the well-designed rooms absorbed sound, they didn’t eliminate it completely. A hodgepodge of various scents usually saturated the air, some pleasing, some less than. But today, nothing. Her ears picked up the muffled strains of winds and strings seeping out through the practice room doors, but her nose gave no reaction.

  Her performance just now confirmed her suspicions, much to her delight. She had never known this kind of peace, this kind of singular sensory experience when it came to music. It was wonderful.

  So why was Petrin frowning?

  Helaine flushed. “What does it matter? Can’t you just be happy for me?” She felt the heat creeping up her neck.

  Petrin’s look softened, and he left the window, returning to her.

  “I am happy for you,” he said, taking her hands in his. “But we don’t know how this happened. Your gift—”

  “Problem.”

  “Gift,” he repeated, “is something you were born with. For you to lose it now, so suddenly, something had to change in you. Inside of you.” He tapped two fingers lightly against her forehead. “It would be foolish to think it’s not somehow connected with your nap.”

  Petrin had taken to referring to her three-day slumber as her “nap,” in an effort to make as light of the situation as possible. But they both knew it was a bigger issue than they pretended. So many unknowns surrounded the whole ordeal. She had been sick just before tumbling into that deep sleep. But the never-ending parade of doctors who came and went through the Music Conservatory’s infirmary could make no connection between the two. And after a week of being poked and prodded, and answering the same questions repeatedly, the cause remained a mystery.

  In the end, they discharged her with a clean bill of health. And, other than the surprise loss of her odd olfactory abilities, she felt fine.

  “I don’t care how it’s possible,” said Helaine. “It happened. And I couldn’t be happier.”

  Petrin pulled her into his arms and gave her a gentle squeeze. “Then we’ll leave it at that, shall we?”

  “Thank you.”

  She leaned her head against his chest with a sigh. Petrin’s concern was valid, she knew, but she was grateful he wasn’t pressing the issue. She wanted to bask in the delight of this small miracle without the burden of the hows and what-ifs weighing on her. At least for now.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Starving,” she said.

  Petrin released his hold and moved to gather the harp from his bed. “Do you want to eat in the dining hall or take it to your room?”

  “Can we bring it back here, please?”

  He leaned the instrument against his bookcase. “If you wish.”

  The living quarters were the same across the Music Conservatory, save the personal touches. But it wasn’t the scenery Helaine considered.

  “It’s just . . . the idea of being back in my room with Nadja still missing gives m
e such a sad feeling. Like an emptiness right here.” She pressed a fist to her stomach. “I know it sounds silly, but besides being worried sick about her, I’d gotten used to her always being around. Really, always being around. The thought of returning there without her feels so lonely.”

  But more than loneliness was keeping Helaine at bay. It was a sense of betrayal, too. Twice, now, Nadja had disappeared without warning. The first time she’d stayed out all night. But since she almost never ventured out of the conservatory, Helaine had been sure something terrible had befallen her. In the end, Nadja had just lost track of time catching up with old friends she’d run into at the Harvest Bazaar. This time, however, Nadja’s sudden departure felt purposeful.

  Helaine had been glad to see her friend’s face when she’d awakened in the infirmary. Nadja was so grounded. She’d broken the news of Helaine’s nap gently and without fanfare, such that any initial panic had dissolved in moments.

  And then Nadja walked out of the infirmary and never returned.

  What was Helaine to think? Five days, and not a single word. At least in the infirmary, she could pretend Nadja was keeping busy with preparations for the upcoming exams. Returning to their shared room without her roommate seemed so final.

  “It’s not silly at all,” said Petrin, offering Helaine a small smile.

  She returned it, taking comfort in the fact he might understand what she was going through. His roommate had disappeared, too. Though, Pax had the courtesy to inform Petrin of his plan to find Nadja before gallivanting off to who-knows-where.

  “Have you heard from Pax?” she asked.

  “No. But as he hasn’t returned yet, I’m hoping that means he’s picked up her trail.”

  Helaine nodded in agreement as he opened the door and escorted her to the dining hall.

  A quarter of an hour later, they returned to Petrin’s room, laden with fresh fruit, hunks of cheese, and a basket of warm sourdough rolls.

  “I didn’t realize how hungry I was,” said Helaine as Petrin let them in. “It must have something to do with being back in the normal world again.”

  “Well, welcome back,” came a third voice.

  Helaine yipped in surprise as she looked up and spotted Pax sitting on his bed, removing his boots. Petrin slipped around her and placed their bounty on the table before greeting his roommate with a hearty handshake.

  “It is good to have you back, my friend,” he said, clapping Pax on the back.

  Helaine saw Pax wince at the contact. Had he some injury? But she was too eager for news of Nadja to pursue the issue. She flew across the room.

  “Did you find her? Is she all right? Has she already returned to our room?” Then, padding over to the table, she added, “She’s sure to be hungry. I’ll take this right up to her. I can always go back down to the dining hall for more food.” Helaine’s hands hovered over the basket of rolls. Then she whirled around to face the men, recalling Pax’s discomfort. “Unless she’s in the infirmary. Is she hurt? Oh, please tell me she’s not—”

  “She’s fine.” Pax looked away and gently tugged at his second boot.

  Helaine breathed a sigh of relief. At least there was that.

  Pax grunted. “But she’s not here.”

  Her stomach dropped, taking the momentary relief with it.

  “Where is she?” Petrin voiced the next question for her.

  Pax sucked in a sharp breath as the other boot came free, and he rolled his ankles a few times before rising to his feet and ambling over to the table.

  It took all of Helaine’s self-control, something with which she already had a complicated relationship, to keep from bouncing up and down in anticipation. As Pax grabbed a handful of strawberries from the tray, she thought she might burst before he got around to answering. She wanted to grab him by the shoulders and demand an answer, but the troubled look in his eyes and the hitch in his step stayed her hands. As he chewed through the berries, she noticed something else was off. His left ankle was bandaged, and his pants and shirt were snug and ill fitting.

  “What happened?” she whispered.

  Pax swallowed the last of the berries and looked up, offering her a charming smile. “I caught up with her on the wharf boarding a boat to Chansey. She’d received word of an urgent family matter and was on her way to find her uncle. I didn’t like the idea of her traveling alone, so I stayed with her until she found him.” He picked up a roll and bit into it. “She’ll be helping him for a while.”

  Questions swirled around in Helaine’s mind. How long was “a while”? What kind of family matter? Was Nadja’s uncle well? And still, why hadn’t she said goodbye? She picked one.

  “Is her uncle all right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then what kind of urgent family matter would make her run off without so much as a goodbye?”

  “I believe it had something to do with her extended family.”

  “Oh,” said Helaine, as the pieces fit into place. “She’s gone back to Grenyan, hasn’t she?”

  Pax stopped midchew and darted his eyes to Petrin, then to her. He shoved the roll back into his mouth, offering a muffled “mmm” in reply.

  She sank into one of the chairs at the table. “From the way Nadja spoke, I thought she’d never go back. It must be very important.” She threw Pax a questioning glance.

  He finished the roll and walked to his wardrobe, taking out a fresh set of clothes. “I don’t know all the details, but I understood it to be a matter of life and death.”

  “Oh, dear. And she didn’t say when she’d be back?”

  “No,” said Pax. Helaine could tell he was as disappointed as she was. Perhaps even more so. She wondered what, if anything, had transpired between the two of them on their journey. If Nadja was here, Helaine would interrogate her as soon as they were back in their own room. But this was Pax. She could only question him to a point.

  “Now, if you two will excuse me,” said Pax, “there is a bath calling my name.” Helaine watched as he made his way to the door, his back straight and his gait almost even.

  “Pax,” she called out as he reached for the door handle. “Thank you. For keeping her safe.”

  Pax looked back over his shoulder and studied her for a moment. Then, he dropped his head and let out a rueful chuckle before meeting her gaze once again. “Yep,” he said, offering her another smile. But the curve of his lips didn’t match the haunted look in his eyes. He disappeared through the door, leaving Helaine with a dozen new questions.

  “That’s a relief,” said Petrin, joining her at the table. He filled their plates before taking the seat beside her. “Nadja is safe and among her family. After all that’s happened this past week, this is welcome news.” Reaching underneath the table, he clasped her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it. “Better?”

  Petrin’s dark eyes were so warm and hopeful, she hated to cast a shadow over them.

  “Yes,” she replied, mimicking his kiss and drawing a chuckle from him.

  But as they settled into their meal, she couldn’t shake the feeling there was much more going on than what Pax had said. And she knew she wouldn’t rest easy until she discovered what it was.

  Chapter 2

  Helaine gazed across the front lawn of the Music Conservatory as she smoothed her hands over the quilt, spreading it neatly on the cushiony grass. The sun beamed down, warming her skin and giving her a taste of the coming summer. She had piled her hair atop her head, anticipating the heat. She sighed as a gentle breeze swept across the lawn, ruffling the fine hairs that had escaped their confines and brushed against her neck. An impromptu wind ensemble struck up a tune from somewhere to her right, and she inhaled a deep breath, smelling nothing but the aromas wafting from the refreshment table and the newly mown grass. She spotted the ensemble and noted not one, but two trombones among them. Normally the smell from one trombone was enough to make her stomach threaten to evacuate.

  But not this time.

  A giddy flutter sw
irled around her heart. It was a glorious day.

  The conservatory’s annual end-of-year picnic was a welcome reprieve from the intense study that marked the previous week. It was a required event, but one embraced by the entire student body. Apart from the audition, the yearly examinations were the most stressful part of their experience at the conservatory. Hosting the picnic on the eve of the exams forced everyone to pull their noses from their books and enjoy a much-needed respite from the rigors of their studies. A handful of students always tried to beg off in order to get in a few more hours of study time. But if they weren’t prepared by now, a few more hours would do little good.

  Helaine settled herself down in the middle of the quilt and stretched out her legs as she surveyed the crowd. Blankets dotted the grass, some occupied, others empty as their owners played games or visited with friends. An intense game of lawn chess claimed the open field near the refreshments. Beyond that, a group of expert- and master-level petrology students competed against one another, levitating and stacking towers of stones. The sound of dueling trumpets, punctuated by alternating cheers and groans, emanated from the center of a boisterous crowd. Helaine was fairly certain she knew what game they were playing, and she was also fairly certain it involved a stronger beverage than what could be found at the refreshment table.

  She spotted Selina and Vatara seated on a bright yellow blanket and waved at them, but they didn’t notice her. They were deep in conversation, with Selina sneaking glances over her shoulder every so often. Helaine followed the path of her gaze to where Quinton stood, applauding as his friend’s knight captured the opponent’s pawn.