Inharmonic (The Music Maker Series Book 1) Read online

  Nadja’s seat bumped as someone settled into the row behind her, but she was so absorbed in her surroundings she hardly noticed.

  “You owe me a shirt,” a deep voice rumbled softly, tickling her ear.

  Nadja gasped and almost jumped out of her seat. She whirled around to face the speaker and froze as she locked onto a pair of dazzling sapphire eyes. Her face blanched, and the moisture disappeared from her mouth, leaving a wad of cotton in its place. Her brain panicked as she tried to rationalize the presence of the man seated behind her.

  Pax reclined back in his seat, amusement dancing in his eyes and a half smile on his lips.

  “What are you doing here?” she stammered in hushed tones.

  “I could ask you the same question.”

  Nadja twisted forward only to find herself face-to-face with the man and woman seated in front of her. No doubt they had heard her squeak and were curious about the cause. After regarding her for a moment, they turned towards the front and resumed their conversation, though this time in a purposefully quieter tone.

  “I thought you were visiting family.” His breath tickled her other ear causing her to tilt her head involuntarily towards Pax’s mouth.

  “I did. And now I’m here,” said Nadja, turning again to face him. His unexpected appearance unnerved her as did his proximity. Her gaze dropped to his mouth as she remembered his kiss. Her face regained its color and a little more than its previous warmth, and the hair on the back of her neck stood at attention.

  Snapping her eyes back to his, she was annoyed to see a slow smile spread across his face. He knew he was making her uncomfortable, and he was enjoying it.

  Nadja narrowed her eyes and cleared her throat. “What about you? Shouldn’t you be chopping down a tree somewhere?” she hissed.

  “I should. But a pretty lady recently told me I had the makings of a fine craftsman. I decided to submit some of my work to the faculty of the conservatory on the slim chance they might agree. Looks like they do.”

  “You’re a new student?”

  “Pax Raynor, Apprentice Craftsman,” he said, inclining his head with an air of mock superiority.

  Though caught off guard by his unexpected arrival, Nadja realized it was just another hurdle she would have to leap in order to maintain her ruse and position in her new safe haven. She thought back to their time together. Had she said or done anything to give herself away? Had she led him to believe anything she could not easily explain?

  No.

  In her single-minded resolve to preserve her anonymity and safety she had not even given him her name.

  The tension in her shoulders eased as she pasted on her best impression of a warm smile.

  “Nadja Machinal, Apprentice Musician.”

  “Nadja.” Pax rolled her name over his tongue as if savoring the taste. His eyes danced briefly, then darkened. “Well, Nadja, I have a few questions for you.”

  Nadja’s smile melted like snow on a warm spring day. She opened her mouth to say something she hoped would turn the conversation away from the unfortunate direction it was heading.

  “Welcome, apprentices, to the Music Conservatory. And congratulations!” The commanding voice echoed through the Concert Hall.

  Nadja turned away from Pax and towards the stage which was now filled with a dozen or so people. She was relieved to see that, in her distracted state, she had not noticed the familiar faces take their seats. She recognized the one standing and addressing them as the older gentleman who had asked her questions during her audition. The top of his head was bald, but he wore a cropped halo of white hair around the sides and back. His thick white-and-gray eyebrows mirrored the color of his tidy mustache and goatee. His eyes held genuine warmth as he smiled and opened his arms in a gesture of welcome.

  “I am Grandmaster Musician Thaddeus Westbrook, Dean of the Music Conservatory of Amrantir,” he began, lowering his voice along with his arms. “It is my great privilege to welcome you as apprentices, and future master musicians and craftsmen of Amrantir. The skills you will learn during your time at the conservatory will serve not only you, but your community and your country for years to come.

  “Every one of you is a fine musician or craftsman in his or her own right. But, there is so much more to mastering music than the ability to play a beautiful melody or to craft the instrument used to do so. Music has always been something more than the sum of its notes, rhythms, and dynamics. Music has the power to create real and tangible change.

  “As we all know, some music has additional levels of complexity and precision. This music is intended for more than mere enjoyment. This music can harness and divert energy. It can quench dry and barren lands with desperately needed rain, and it can, quite literally, move mountains.

  “It is my sincere hope that you will take advantage of every opportunity which presents itself in your time here. That you learn and master both the art and science of music and craft. That you become a mover of mountains.”

  He paused for a breath and smiled at the crowd.

  There was something about Grandmaster Westbrook which calmed Nadja’s nerves and set her at ease. While she took issue with some of the things he had said, particularly the moving-mountains bit, she had to admit she felt an instant affection for the gentleman.

  He introduced the rest of the faculty members. Nadja glanced at her course schedule and noted her instructors. Among them were the other two who had questioned her during her audition. The white-haired woman, Meliina Kero, would be her private-lessons tutor and teach the Music History class. The bored-looking and rather snobbish younger man who would lead the Music for Enjoyment class was Xavier Pennequois.

  As Grandmaster Westbrook continued the introductions, Nadja’s attention was divided between the other instructors on her course schedule—Deotys Stallworthy: Music Theory and String Technique, Rafe Gilmoren: Sound Theory, Petra Dappacas: Percussion Technique—and more pressing matters.

  Namely, what to do about Pax.

  Nadja had a good idea about the types of questions he wanted to ask her, and she was certain she had no desire to answer them. Pax’s presence was a glaring mar on the otherwise clean slate of her new life at the conservatory. She would have to address the issue somehow.

  At the moment, she hoped avoidance would be the simplest solution. Pax was on the craftsman track. Most likely, they would be in different classes, since his focus would be making instruments while hers was playing them. She resolved to do her best to avoid him in the hope he might eventually lose interest.

  By this time Grandmaster Westbrook had completed his introductions and was issuing a few closing remarks. As soon as he dismissed them, Nadja jumped up from her seat and bumbled her way to the end of the row. Unfortunately, Pax detected her attempted escape and matched her movements, blocking her path in the aisle.

  “Excuse me,” said Nadja, giving him a curt smile and stepping aside to go around him.

  Pax reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her almost close enough to him to raise the eyebrows of passersby. The aroma of the forest washed over her, clouding her initial shock and annoyance. As she looked up at his humorless face, a quivering sensation in her stomach began warring with her determination to put as much space between the two of them as possible.

  The skin along her forearm tingled as Pax reached over with his other hand and gently pushed up the sleeve of her blouse. Finally breaking eye contact, he looked down and studied the red scar.

  “Looks like you’ll live.”

  “Just as I said.” Nadja swallowed as Pax’s rough thumb traced the length of the damage.

  Pax huffed. He met her eyes again, his face filled with a mixture of confusion and earnestness. “Why did you disappear?”

  “I told you,” she said, gathering her wits and trying to ignore the feeling of her hand in his. “I needed to get to my family. And you needed to get to the Auldwood Oak. You did a fine job patching me up. I would have just delayed your quest.”

 
Pax dropped her hand and reached up, rubbing his face in frustration. His head tilted to the side as he contemplated her. With the physical link between them broken, Nadja’s head cleared, and she shifted her weight back and forth between her feet, looking for the opportunity to escape. Just as Pax opened his mouth, no doubt to reprimand her, they were joined by two grinning girls. Actually, they were women, but the way they tittered and giggled between one another, one would hardly guess them long past the age of dolls and imaginary tea parties.

  “Hello! I’m Selina, and this is Vatara,” said the first girl, offering Pax a floppy wrist. Her fingers reminded Nadja of the wriggling bait she used to catch fish.

  Pax returned the greeting with a pleasant smile, accepting the proffered paw and giving it a firm shake. He reached out to offer the same greeting to Vatara and was met with another awkward handshake and a just-too-loud laugh.

  The two women peppered Pax with a barrage of questions and compliments.

  Nadja cringed inwardly. Pax’s attractiveness was undeniable. She would freely admit that if for no other reason than to declare otherwise would go against all natural aesthetic sensibilities. But, the sight of Selina and Vatara practically throwing themselves at him turned her stomach in much the same way a week-old trout left rotting on the riverbank would.

  Yet, in her discomfort Nadja offered a silent thank-you to the pair for providing her escape. While Pax was held captive politely answering their long list of questions, Nadja melted into the rest of the passing crowd and disappeared through the exit.

  Chapter 12

  The dark metal hinges of the wardrobe door creaked softly as Nadja pushed closed the smooth cedar panel. It had taken her less than twenty minutes to unpack and put away all of her belongings. She had arrived in Cantio with little more than the clothes on her back, and apart from her new wardrobe, she’d obtained nothing else she could truly call her own. Her blowpipe, pearls, and silver mirror were tucked away behind the lengths of unused pants in a back corner of the wardrobe, and the rest of her garments took up no more than a third of the space.

  The warmth emanating from the fireplace hugged her back as she paced across the hardwood floor towards the room’s one large window. Though it was still early autumn, the changing winds which infiltrated the higher floors of the conservatory brought with them a chill. Nadja pulled open the shutter and looked out over the conservatory grounds.

  From her room she could see the perfect arc of the grounds’ wall. Her room faced the governmental zone of the middle ring. The Delegates Hall stood tall and imposing compared to the surrounding buildings, and she watched the people come and go.

  Each region of Amrantir selected a delegate to represent them in the capital. The delegates convened at the midpoint of each season under the leadership of their appointed delegate prime to make decisions regarding the safety, economic growth, and general well-being of the country. The Wanderers, even though they belonged to no dedicated geographic region, had their own delegate as well. Nadja’s stomach sank as she realized the tribe must appoint someone new to represent them. Because of her, Baulo could no longer fill that role.

  She shook her head, trying to ward off the ache threatening to settle in, and moved away from the window. Flopping down on her bed, she picked up her flute from the bedside table and leaned back, surveying her surroundings.

  The room was spacious and luxurious compared to the tent she had shared with her mother. Two full-sized beds draped with downy comforters and plush pillows were positioned atop a thick carpet of deep blue and gold. They sat facing one another, each with a matching bedside table and bookcase. In the middle of the room was a small round table with two chairs, and matching wardrobes flanked the fireplace on the opposite wall. In the space between the window and Nadja’s wardrobe was a basin complete with running water. The rest of the necessary facilities were a short walk down the hall, but after weeks spent trekking to and from her uncle’s backyard, she welcomed the small inconvenience in exchange for indulging in the miracle of indoor plumbing.

  Nadja blew a light stream of air into her flute and silently fingered through a familiar tune. Having taken the bed by the window, she faced the one next to the door and wondered about her roommate. The woman must have arrived early to settle in and, from the looks of it, brought a team of decorators along with her. Her side of the room had suffered an attack of lavender and teal. Colorful pillows accented the already plump head of the bed while swaths of sheer material draped artfully around the furniture. Small framed paintings decorated the walls and bedside table, and her bookcase overflowed with books, music, and sundry knickknacks. A violin case lounged carelessly on top of an enormous trunk which took up the space at the foot of the bed. The whole effect was made even more overwhelming when contrasted with the stark appearance of her own side.

  Glancing at the other wardrobe, Nadja’s curiosity got the better of her. She laid her flute on the bed and crept over to the wardrobe, easing the door open to peek inside. At the same moment, the sound of a rattling doorknob met her ears.

  Nadja closed the wardrobe and jumped back as the room door swung open. A familiar blonde with a cheery round face and an armload of books crossed the threshold.

  “It’s you!”

  The woman hurried in Nadja’s direction, then stopped short and regained her composure, a slight blush on her face. “I mean, it’s so nice to see a familiar face. I’m Helaine Vastroff. It’s so nice to officially meet you.” She extended her hand in greeting.

  Nadja returned her smile with one of her own. “Nadja Machinal.”

  “Nadja. What a lovely name. I’m so glad you’re here, Nadja. Please forgive me for rambling on and on during our audition. I was absolutely worried sick with thinking I caused you more anxiety than you were probably already feeling, and right before it was your turn to perform. But, you must have done well, because here you are!” Helaine reached out and held Nadja’s hand between her two.

  “And here you are,” replied Nadja with a light chuckle.

  The two studied each other in silence for a moment before Nadja spoke. “I heard you play your audition,” she said, gesturing towards the violin case. “You did a beautiful job. How long have you been playing?”

  “For almost as long as I can remember,” replied Helaine, tossing the books onto the small table and settling on her bed. “My father is a master musician and works with the copper mines on the edge of the Gelid Highlands. He plays the violin and so, of course, my violin education began as soon as I was able to hold it.”

  Nadja mirrored her new roommate, and the two began that awkward dance of first acquaintance. It was not long, however, before they fell into a comfortable conversation. Nadja responded to Helaine’s questions with as little detail as possible, telling her she was an immigrant from Grenyan who wanted nothing more than to become a graduate of the conservatory.

  Nadja learned Helaine was an only child who had few friends growing up in the sparsely populated border between the Viridian Mountains and the Gelid Highlands. Like her father and his parents before him, Helaine was expected to do well at the conservatory and choose a position somewhere as a master musician. She was shy, but had a sweet temperament which made her instantly likable, and Nadja felt lucky to be paired with her.

  “Though, I must confess,” said Helaine, biting her lip. “I may not be the tidiest roommate. I tend to let things lie where they land. It’s one of my many faults.”

  Nadja laughed. “I have plenty faults of my own. Let’s make a deal. I’ll try my best to see past yours if you try to see past mine.”

  “It’s a deal,” smiled Helaine, the worry lines across her forehead vanishing. “All right, I just have to ask,” she said, bolting upright on the bed and locking eyes with Nadja. “What is going on with that?”

  Nadja glanced beside her where Helaine pointed. “My flute?”

  “Yes! I noticed it at the audition, but was afraid to ask you about it then. It’s pink!”

  �
�It’s made from coral. My mother gave it to me when I was little, and it’s my favorite instrument.”

  “You play others?”

  “Well, mostly just auxiliary percussion instruments. And I do sing, poorly and to myself, sometimes. But this flute is who I am.” Nadja picked up the flute and studied it wistfully, circling her thumb over the small indentions around the finger holes which had begun to form after years of playing.

  Helaine hesitated. “May I hear something?”

  Nadja smiled and nodded. She played a short Wanderer folk tune with a bright and up-tempo melody. When she finished, she put down the flute and looked at Helaine, who had her eyes closed and was wearing a blissful look.

  “Cinnamon apples,” sighed Helaine as she opened her eyes.

  Nadja didn’t know how to reply to that comment. She sent a questioning look to Helaine, who responded by coming to her feet and pacing back and forth between the fireplace and her bed.

  “I’m so sorry. I meant to say that was lovely, and you do play well.”

  Still puzzled, but flattered, Nadja giggled. “Is ‘cinnamon apples’ a popular expression up north?”

  Helaine laughed ruefully. “No, it isn’t.” She sighed, this time with an air of exasperation, and sat back down on her bed.

  Nadja watched her fidget with the pillows, packing a few around her seat, and hugging one to her chest. When she at last seemed comfortable, Helaine gave Nadja a solemn look.

  “Since you and I are going to be roommates this year, there’s something I think you need to know about me. Oh, it’s not a great secret or anything, but it is something I don’t usually talk about. But, since you are my roommate, I think it’s better I get it out in the open with you. That’s what friends do, right? And I do hope we’ll be friends.” Helaine lowered her chin in embarrassment.

  Not sure where the conversation was leading, Nadja gave Helaine a reassuring smile. “I would like that very much.”