Inharmonic (The Music Maker Series Book 1) Read online

  Nadja glanced over her shoulder in time to see the young man slink down into his chair and try to look busy. She remembered seeing his face on the day of the auditions, Petrin something-or-other. In fact, all the students in this class now looked familiar to her, since Beginner Sound Theory was a requirement for all apprentices.

  As Nadja turned to once again face her instructor, she spotted Pax seated in front of Petrin. He was flanked on either side by Selina, who was constantly sneaking glances at him through lowered lashes, and Vatara, who sat at the table beside him, wearing a sulky expression. Nadja assumed it was because she hadn’t been able to claim the seat now occupied by Selina.

  Pax was an island surrounded by a sea of women. In the few days the apprentices had been in residence at the conservatory, this had become a common sight. At mealtimes and in classes, there was a small group of them who seemed to have united in the cause of all things Pax. Nadja would almost feel sorry for him, if he didn’t seem to be enjoying the attention. His warm personality and flirtatious smiles only encouraged their adoration. Though he hadn’t singled out a particular lady yet, Nadja knew it was only a matter of time.

  For her own part, Nadja thought the whole group was rather ridiculous, but she smiled to herself as she focused on Grandmaster Gilmoren. Pax’s group was an excellent distraction and only made it easier for her to avoid him.

  “Would anyone else like to tell me what sound is?” asked the dark, gruff grandmaster.

  When no one else dared to guess, he continued. “Sound is vibration which travels through the air and is perceived by our ears and interpreted by our mind as something we hear.”

  He dipped his finger in a pitcher of water which rested on the edge of the table and circled the rim of the glass once more. The same otherworldly tone rang out.

  “My finger on this glass acts like a bow on a string. As I move around the glass, my finger slips and sticks repeatedly in tiny motions along the glass’s edge. The constant slipping and sticking causes the glass to vibrate. When the vibrations reach the glass’s resonant frequency, it emits the sound you hear.”

  Curiosity getting the best of her, Nadja leaned over and whispered to Helaine, “What does that smell like?

  Helaine’s chest rose. “Hmm. Moss, or wet dirt.”

  Grandmaster Gilmoren lifted the pitcher, filling the glass almost to the brim. He brought his finger back to the rim, but this time the sound was much lower.

  “By adding water to the glass, I have changed its physical attributes. The glass with water has more mass than the glass without water. That is why its resonant frequency is a lower pitch.” He continued speaking over the sound. “If you look closely, you can see the water vibrating along the path of my finger.”

  Nadja leaned forward, squinting her eyes. From her position it was difficult to see, but she could just make out tiny ripples on the water’s surface. They appeared to be chasing her instructor’s finger around the sides of the glass.

  “Now,” barked the grandmaster, abruptly dumping the contents of the glass onto the dirt floor and startling the attentive crowd. “I don’t have to touch the glass to make it vibrate.”

  He placed the empty glass on the table. Turning his back to the class, he bent to retrieve a second, identical, glass from the cabinet behind him. As he placed it on the table, he also swiped a tiny metal rod from a box of metalworking materials situated atop the cabinet. He balanced the rod, which was no bigger around than the shaft of a duck feather and no longer than his thumb, across the top of the second glass so each end of the rod just touched the rim.

  Wetting his finger, he placed the first glass close to the second and once again began the mournful music. At first, nothing happened. Then, as he gradually increased the volume, the metal rod began to quiver and fell into the glass.

  “As you can see, since sound is vibrations which travel through the air, tones produced by one source can affect other objects.”

  Grandmaster Gilmoren cleared the second glass and rod from the table and pulled a trumpet from beneath it. “The more volume, or energy, behind the tone, the more the object will vibrate.”

  He positioned himself behind the glass and aimed the bell of the trumpet directly at it. His short but compact frame expanded by at least half as he drew in a deep breath.

  The sound blaring from the instrument was an exact pitch match to the resonant frequency of the glass. The class watched intently. Their instructor’s chest and abdomen deflated as the volume of the trumpet continued to increase. Some students lifted their hands to shield their ears from the noise.

  Just when Nadja thought he couldn’t possibly continue to play, a sudden pop! interrupted the trumpet’s attack, and the glass shattered, sending shards skittering across the tabletop.

  The grandmaster lowered the trumpet and inhaled. “If an object vibrates enough, it can rattle itself to pieces.” He put away the trumpet, using the brief interlude to regain his breath.

  “This idea of resonant frequency and how sound vibrations affect objects is the foundation of the way we approach music at the conservatory. If you don’t get it, find someone to help you get it, or you’ll have a tough time getting anything else.” He scanned the class with a raised eyebrow, making eye contact with each student. When he completed his survey, he nodded his head in satisfaction.

  “Now for your project. Each of you will partner with another student in this class to design and build an original instrument. It must produce at least one full octave of pitches, and it needs to be out of your own imagination. You will have until the last class before we break for the Candlefire Celebration to complete and demonstrate your instrument.”

  Helaine looked at Nadja, her eyebrows raised and her expression hopeful. Nadja smiled and gave an affirmative nod.

  “Since this assignment results in a finished, working instrument,” the grandmaster continued, “you’ll need to partner with someone from the opposite track. So, one musician to one craftsman. You’ll need both areas of expertise to create a good finished piece. So hurry up and pick your partners,” he finished as Helaine and Nadja shared disappointed looks. “Before you leave, I’ll come around to make note of who’s partnering with whom.”

  “I hate group assignments,” sighed Helaine, as the room buzzed. “The only thing worse than relying on someone else for your grade is taking that chance with a stranger. I don’t even know anyone in the craftsman track yet.”

  Nadja’s eyes panned across the room. Pax’s corner was swarming with activity, and she chuckled to herself, imagining the posturing which must be going on as at least half of his admirers nominated themselves to be his partner. “What about Petrin?” she said, her focus shifting to the lanky, fair-skinned man. “I’m pretty sure he’s concentrating on String Craft, so you’d be well matched.”

  “Oh, no, I don’t think I could ask him,” stuttered Helaine, a rosy glow rising to her cheeks.

  “Why not? It looks like he’s just standing around waiting for someone to pick him, so I’m sure he’d agree to it. And I was impressed he volunteered an answer to Grandmaster Gilmoren’s question. The grandmaster is pretty intimidating.”

  “I know,” agreed Helaine. “I was hoping the whole time he hadn’t learned our names yet. I’d hate to be called on by him for an answer I didn’t have.”

  “So . . . Petrin?” Nadja grinned at Helaine. She could tell by Helaine’s initial reaction to the suggestion that her roommate had already noticed him on her own. “Come on. He’s beginning to look like a lost puppy. Why don’t you go put him out of his misery?”

  “Oh, no, I really couldn’t! I mean, I haven’t even actually met him yet. I’ll just wait and see who is left without a partner once everyone else has paired up.”

  Nadja raised an eyebrow and gave her friend a stern look. “You just said you hate relying on some stranger for your grade, but since classes just started, and neither of us has gotten to know many other students yet, you’re going to have to do just that. At le
ast with Petrin, you know he’s got a bit of courage, which must be a good thing.”

  “But what about you?”

  “I’ll wait for the leftovers.” Nadja smiled. “Now, you’d better hurry. It looks like that short, blond man is headed his way.”

  The threat of a missed opportunity was enough to get Helaine moving, and she weaved through the crowd towards Petrin.

  Nadja was so absorbed in finding a partner for Helaine she didn’t hear the weighty footsteps approaching. She glimpsed her stout instructor out of the corner of her eye just before he spoke.

  “Who will you be partnering with, Mr. Raynor?” he asked.

  Mr. Raynor?

  A heavy hand landed on Nadja’s shoulder.

  “I’ll be partnering with Miss Machinal.”

  Nadja spun to face Pax, knocking away his hand. She stared at him in stunned silence for a moment as the amusement in his eyes belied the mask of innocence he wore. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again when her mind refused to cooperate with her lips.

  Instead, she whipped back around to tell the grandmaster there was a mistake, and she would most certainly not be partnering with Pax. However, by this time her instructor was halfway across the room, speaking with Petrin and a beet-red Helaine. Nadja desperately scanned the rest of the class, now only a handful of people since most of the students had already left. Finding everyone else paired off, she faced Pax, her eyes blazing.

  “I did not agree to be your partner.”

  Pax feigned surprise. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I thought that was why you were standing over here clearly not looking for a partner. You seemed to be waiting around for someone to come over and claim you.”

  “You have some nerve,” she seethed.

  Nadja had struggled to live comfortably within the male-dominated society of the Wanderers her whole life. One of the few benefits of no longer living among them was the equal footing she now held with all of her peers. “I don’t know about where you come from, but here in Cantio, women do not wait around for men to claim them.”

  Pax must have sensed he’d touched a nerve, because he changed tactics.

  “Please, you have to help me,” he whispered, the teasing tone gone from his voice. “This assignment is a large part of our grade in this class. I need to tackle this project with someone who is smart and resourceful. I don’t want to waste my time with someone who is more interested in what I had for breakfast than in getting this project done.” He flicked his eyes over towards the remainder of his followers, most of whom were eyeing Nadja suspiciously.

  When she did not immediately respond, Pax played his last card. “Besides,” he whispered, reaching out and lightly tapping her forearm. “You owe me.”

  With those three little words, Nadja knew he had her. She swallowed hard as a fresh wave of guilt washed over her. She did owe him. Likely her very life, not to mention a handful of his possessions. All he was asking for in return was help with a class assignment. It was the least she could do.

  And, if it would repay the debt she owed, she doubted she would get a better, or simpler, opportunity. She sighed and closed her eyes.

  “Fine,” she conceded. Then she looked pointedly at him and said, “But once this assignment is complete, we’re even.”

  A slow smile spread across Pax’s face. “Deal.”

  Chapter 15

  The crisp autumn breeze battled with Nadja’s cloak. Dodging fruit which had long since lost its grip on the trees above, she picked her way through the grove towards Pax. Though a cozy spot by the fire seemed more ideal to her now the summer heat was long gone, Pax suggested they begin work on their project in the apple orchard along the northern wall of the conservatory. Despite her red-tipped nose, she had to give him credit for his location choice. While other teams packed themselves into practice rooms, the dining hall, or one another’s private rooms, which was not an option as far as Nadja was concerned, the orchard offered a relatively secluded space which would allow them to work uninterrupted and without the need to keep their voices low.

  She spotted Pax on one of the stone benches hidden throughout the orchard. It was situated beneath one of the taller apple trees, whose low-hanging branches offered a modicum of privacy. Pax reclined against the back of the bench with his long legs outstretched and feet crossed at the ankles. He was steadily scribbling away in a sketchbook, and his eyes were narrowed in intense concentration.

  Nadja took in his profile appreciatively for just a moment, then chided herself. True, she was grateful for the help and kindness he’d given her. And she would be lying if she said she didn’t find him very attractive. But their previous encounter left her current situation open to unwanted questions. And besides, Pax seemed less and less like the one-woman kind of man.

  As she neared him, Pax lifted his chin towards her with a welcoming smile. Nadja’s cheeks stung as they erupted into twin blooms of pink and red. She clenched her teeth and hoped the effect would pass for a slight windburn. She cast her eyes down at his sketchbook and jumped right to work.

  “Are those some of your ideas for our instrument?”

  “Well, hello to you too.” Pax slid over to make room on the bench, and Nadja seated herself on the empty end, leaving a respectable space between them.

  “And yes. These are some rough ideas,” he continued, passing the sketchbook to her.

  She studied his drawings, happy to discover his artistic skills extended to paper and charcoal.

  “Sticking with wood. That’s a good idea, considering your skill set.”

  “And, I thought a wind instrument would be best, considering yours.” Pax mimicked her businesslike tone.

  Nadja turned the page and paused, pondering a strange configuration. “What’s this one? It looks a little like an oddly shaped bass recorder, but how do the strings fit into it?”

  Pax grinned, dropping the serious tone, and scooted closer to her, his body breaking the onslaught of the breeze. “It was something Grandmaster Gilmoren said about making objects vibrate without touching them.” He reached across her body and pointed to the different parts of the sketch. “I was thinking we could install a set of strings here and here which could be tuned to vibrate sympathetically with the notes produced by the wind part of the instrument.”

  “Like melding a wind instrument with a stringed instrument.”

  “More like a wind instrument with strings attached.” Pax chuckled.

  Nadja smiled, looking up from the book to find her face only a few inches from his. The corners of her mouth wavered slightly, but she straightened her back and took a deep breath. “It’s brilliant, actually.”

  Pax’s taut form relaxed back against the bench. “I was hoping you’d like that one.”

  “I do. Very much, in fact.” Nadja passed the sketchbook back to him. “I thought the plan was for us to come up with ideas together, but you’ve already done a lot of work. To be honest, I think we could sit here all day and not come up with another idea half as good as that one. I’m wondering what my contribution to the project is.”

  Pax closed the book and set it beside him on the bench. “Since we have some extra time,” he said, giving her a pointed look, “why don’t we get to know each other a little better?”

  “You don’t know when to give up, do you?” Nadja jumped up from her seat and stalked back towards the conservatory. Couldn’t this man take no for an answer? She hadn’t made it a half a dozen steps before she felt Pax’s strong hand wrap around her upper arm, stopping her in her tracks.

  “Come on, Nadja.” Pax’s words hissed through his clenched teeth as he leaned towards her ear. “I find you half-dead in the middle of the forest, alone, with barely enough supplies for an overnight trip, let alone a week’s worth. I patch you up as best as I can, offer to get you better care, and in the morning wake up to find you’ve disappeared along with some of my supplies. What am I supposed to make of that?”

  Nadja whirled to face him, raising her fi
st between their bodies. “Make whatever you’d like. We had a deal. I agreed to be your partner on this assignment, and you agreed that made us even. I’m sorry about taking your things, but I hope the payment I left behind was enough to cover it. Let me know if the cost is greater, and I will settle up. But other than that, I owe you nothing.”

  Their silent standoff seemed to go on for ages. Eventually, the determination on Pax’s face gave way to resignation.

  “You’re right. We have a deal.” He released his grip on her arm. “But it’s not about the supplies, or you owing me something. How do you think I felt when I woke up that morning to find you gone?” His eyes softened. “This strange little phantom who had appeared as if by magic then disappeared just a quickly. For all I knew, you were wandering the woods, bleeding out or dying of infection. Or someone had come and stolen you away during the night.”

  Nadja swallowed hard at his last comment. How close that could have been to the truth. She knew he’d been worried about her. His care and attention to her and even his ill thought-out plan to take her to his mother for further aid was evidence of that. Guilt churned her insides.

  His eyes held a mixture of hurt and concern, and she knew he was right. Like it or not, they would be spending a lot of time together over the next few months. And he’d already proven himself more determined than a dog with a bone. This dance of attack and dodge wasn’t one they could keep up forever. She didn’t have to tell him everything, but if she wanted to keep him from poking into her business, she needed to tell him something.

  “Fine,” she sighed, and walked back to sit on the bench.

  Pax did his best to hide his emotions, but Nadja spied his smug grin threatening to break forth as he hurried back to join her.

  That manipulative little—

  Nadja closed her eyes and took a calming breath. Whatever his tactics, she still needed to offer something to placate him. “What do you want to know?”

  “To begin with, what were you doing in the woods when I found you?”