Inharmonic (The Music Maker Series Book 1) Read online

  “That anyone can get Harman to do anything he doesn’t want to still amazes me,” Jamila said, chuckling. Then, noting her sister’s disheveled appearance she asked, “How is the food coming?”

  “Well, for the most part. But Syerra’s oldest girl has managed to burn half of the venison pies, and we’ve run into a snag with one of the dessert courses.”

  “I had better come with you,” said Jamila, crossing to the open tent flap. Then, she glanced back over her shoulder calling, “You girls have fun,” before leaving them to their confidences.

  “I cannot believe you’re getting married!” exclaimed Kizzy, flopping onto Nadja’s cot in a dramatic heap.

  “I’m not getting married yet,” said Nadja, relaxing onto Jamila’s. “The Betrothal Celebration is just the beginning of the wedding festivities. We won’t actually be getting married for another month.”

  “I know, but it’s still so exciting and romantic,” Kizzy swooned. “And Luca is so handsome.” She sighed. “You’re lucky you were promised to someone so nice to look at. Fish-faced Fectamen is the same age as Luca. You could just as easily have been promised to him.”

  “Don’t make fun of Woral,” scolded Nadja, playfully. “He’s a nice man, and I’m sure he will make Moira an excellent husband. And besides, you know that promising is about more than age. Luca comes from a very respectable family, and his father was good friends with mine. Our parents believed our marriage would be mutually beneficial.”

  “Well, it will also be ‘mutually beneficial’ that the two of you are good-looking people. It might help settle disagreements sooner. What’s the point of arguing with someone when all you want to do is kiss their face? Although, Luca isn’t much of a talker, anyway.” Kizzy rolled over onto her stomach, giving Nadja a mischievous look. “Not that you’ll be doing a lot of talking in the beginning,” she said, grinning and wiggling her eyebrows.

  Nadja’s face grow hot as she looked wide-eyed at her cousin. “And what do you know about that?” she laughed nervously, picking up a limp pillow and tossing it at Kizzy’s head.

  “Enough,” said Kizzy in a fit of giggles, dodging the pillow.

  “Yes, he is handsome. And kind. And good,” said Nadja, smiling down into her hands.

  “So, you love him then?” panted Kizzy, recovering from her laughter.

  Nadja’s eyes grew distant as she raked her nails back and forth over her palm.

  “I care for him very much. And I do find him attractive. It’s just different than I thought it would be, that’s all.”

  Kizzy pushed herself up off of the cot and crossed the floor, wrapping her arms around her cousin. “The two of you will be so happy. I just know it!”

  Nadja sighed. “I hope so.”

  Chapter 2

  Drumbeats thumped and pressed into the crowd of revelers, twisting and turning them in myriad directions at once. The rhythm forced even the most reserved in attendance to join the throng. Their bodies melted together to form a single giant creature made of hundreds of arms and legs and heads vibrating together in time to the beat. Tambourines added a lighter cadence, while the stringed instruments laid a melodic layer atop the musical trifle, already rich with brass and winds.

  Nadja smiled up at Luca as she spun around him, her leafy skirt whipping him gently in the legs. He returned her smile, laughing down at her and complementing her spins with a few steps of his own. He grabbed her hands and swiveled her towards him, pulling her against his chest as the musicians brought their song to a close. For a moment longer he held her there, searching her flashing green eyes with his. Their chests rose and fell as each of them tried to catch their breath. Neither of them spoke as Nadja returned his searching look with one of her own. Then, as quickly as the music had drawn back the curtain of reserve which usually covered Luca’s features, it fell back into place.

  “You must be thirsty,” he said, placing a hand on the small of her back and leading her through the maze of torches towards their seats.

  Nadja relaxed down into the soft leather-covered cushion positioned conspicuously beneath an arbor festooned with prairie flowers and colored ribbons.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  As soon as Luca disappeared into the crowd, a rough hand encircled Nadja’s bicep, giving a gentle squeeze.

  “The two of you looked so lovely out there,” beamed Naaro Tulmen, settling herself onto the cushion next to Nadja.

  Nadja cringed inwardly, but smiled at her mother-in-law-to-be. “Thank you. And thank you for all you did to help my mother prepare for the celebration. It was so kind. Everything turned out beautifully.”

  “Yes it has.” Naaro looked out over the crowd, taking in the scene with a self-satisfied look. “I can only imagine how hard it must be to get through a normal day without a husband, let alone to try to plan and coordinate everything that leads up to a wedding. It was my duty, and a joy, to take charge of the situation.”

  In truth, Jamila had done the bulk of work in making the celebration come to life, though to hear Naaro tell it, it was she who had single-handedly managed the whole affair.

  “It was a lot of work, but it will all be worth it when you two are married.” Then, turning to smile at Nadja, Naaro continued. “And especially so when I finally get to greet my grandchildren. How soon do you think that might be?”

  “Oh . . . well . . . I mean . . .” Nadja stammered, crimson creeping up her neck to warm her cheeks for the second time that day.

  “I asked Luca, but you know how he is. Always tight-lipped about personal matters. Well, as long as you don’t wait too long.”

  “Oh?”

  “There’s no sense in putting off motherhood. It’s such a wonderful privilege, and your duty, you know.”

  “Mmm.”

  “Have you given any thought to how many you might want? The more the merrier, I say.”

  In truth, Nadja had given a lot of thought to that. The role of a woman was made clear to Nadja, as it had been to every other girl born into her tribe, from an early age. A girl should be good and quiet in manner, diligent in her duties and learning, and obedient to her parents until she married. As a woman, the authority which once belonged to her father would be transferred to her husband, and she would likewise transfer her obedience to him. She would become his complement, learn his trade, and bear and raise their children. In return, she would receive his protection and loyalty. He would ensure her needs were met. She would never worry about political or economic matters because he would speak for her.

  But Nadja had grown up without a father. She was a product of her mother’s strength and wisdom. She saw her mother work and struggle and make a life for them on her own. Yes, being a widow afforded Jamila more than a modicum of protection against unwanted advances, out of the respect other men had for her deceased husband. And, officially, Jamila’s father spoke for her. But, Nadja’s grandfather always held the thoughts and opinions of his daughters in high regard. Any time Jamila faced an issue which required her Speaker’s intervention, Goran simply acted as her mouthpiece. Jamila lived a good life on her own terms, not merely as someone else’s complement. Nadja’s heart longed to keep hold of the freedom she had always known, but Jamila’s situation was an anomaly. Still, it left Nadja questioning the values and traditions of her tribe and wondering if their way truly was the best way.

  Naaro continued to prattle on about the joys of motherhood, and her anticipated joys of grand-motherhood, when Luca returned with two cups of blackberry wine.

  “And how is my handsome boy enjoying the celebration?” chirped Naaro, rising to accept the cup Luca offered her.

  Luca’s mouth turned up in a half smile, looking self-conscious at his mother’s puerile endearment.

  “Very much so,” he replied, leaning in to place a kiss on her cheek.

  “Good, good! Well, I know you two have so much to discuss,” she said, sending an awkward and not-so-inconspicuous wink in Nadja’s direction. “I will rejoin your fat
her. Enjoy yourselves!” Naaro flitted back into the crowd.

  “I hope I wasn’t interrupting,” said Luca, handing Nadja the other glass of wine and taking up the seat left vacant by his mother. “You two looked deep in conversation.”

  Nadja took a much-needed sip of the sweet brew, its fruity tang slipping down her throat and relaxing the tension in her neck and shoulders. She chuckled and turned to Luca, raising an eyebrow. “I’ll give you three guesses as to the topic of that conversation.”

  “Ahh,” he smiled, with a knowing nod. “I only need one. She talks of little else these days. Not that I blame her. She always hoped for a large family, but it was not to be. I think our marriage has renewed that hope in her.”

  Nadja took another sip of the wine, passing her eyes over the darkening horizon. Without thinking, she turned to Luca.

  “Do you ever wonder if there is more out there?”

  “More than what?”

  “More than this. More than getting married and having children and following the same path our parents and their parents, and their parents walked.”

  “Of course there is, but nothing that interests me.”

  “But have you ever wanted to see for yourself? Other people and places, I mean. I’ve heard the Viridian Mountains are the most brilliant green, and their tops disappear right up into the clouds. And, a merchant in Chansey once told me about the capital city and how some of the buildings are almost as tall as the mountains themselves. And, I once heard there are master musicians who can actually drive away oncoming storms.”

  Luca’s features darkened. “I’ve seen the Waste,” he said. “I’ve seen enough to know how lucky we are to live protected by our beliefs and traditions, and not to be influenced by the outside.”

  The light bowing of a familiar tune floated over to them, alerting them the musicians were about to begin another song. “Of course, you’re right,” murmured Nadja, casting her eyes down, though not at all deterred in her course of thought. Then brightly she added, “It was just talk, anyway.”

  At that moment, Kizzy emerged from the crowd, bounded over to the arbor and pulled Nadja to her feet. “They want you! The band is about to play ‘Yours, Forever,’ and Mrs. Tulmen wants you to sing.”

  Nadja groaned, “In front of everyone? I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, come on. She only wants to show off her future daughter-in-law,” said Luca.

  Nadja’s palms felt clammy, and her heart plunged into the pit of her stomach. “But I don’t even have a half-decent voice. I may not be a master musician, but I have ears enough to know that. I’m much more comfortable playing my flute.”

  Struck with the idea, she turned to her cousin. “Kizzy, run to my tent and bring back my flute. I’ll try to stall until you get back.”

  “Got it!” said Kizzy, as she hurried away.

  “It’s just one song,” said Luca, looking disappointed.

  “Yes, well, she will still be able to show me off. But at least with my flute it’ll be to everyone’s advantage.”

  They meandered towards the raised platform, which held the carousing musicians. When they reached the makeshift stage, Nadja glanced back over her shoulder in time to see Kizzy trotting along on the outskirts of the crowd, making her way towards the empty camp. Nadja’s tent was on the north end of camp, and she mentally willed her cousin to pick up the pace. Turning back towards the band, she waved at the leader.

  “Hello there, Nadja!” crowed the bandleader, stooping to grin at her. His wobbly gait coupled with the purple stains on his shirt were proof he’d gotten an early start on the wine.

  “Hi, Devyn. Look, I know Naaro wants me to sing ‘Yours, Forever,’ but I was thinking—”

  “Wonderful!” he interrupted. Then standing tall he shouted, “Brothers and Sisters! The lovely bride-to-be, Miss Nadja Filamen, will do us the great the pleasure of joining us for the next song.”

  A cheer rose from the crowd, but all Nadja heard was the pounding din of the blood rushing through her ears. She caught her breath as Devyn reached down and hoisted her up onto the platform before settling back into his chair. He raised his horn to his lips, gave one elegant upbeat, and the band struck the first chord with a sweet sincerity hardly to be believed from a group of men who had, until just a moment ago, been the most boisterous of the merrymakers.

  Nadja froze. Her eyes were saucers, darting back and forth as she scanned the crowd in a panicked search for Kizzy. Where was that girl? Based on where she was when Nadja last saw her, she should be back to this edge of town by now. Just a few more moments . . .

  A single note hung in the air like a ripe peach just waiting to be plucked.

  Nadja had missed her entrance.

  The band expertly picked up and replayed the previous eight bars of introduction as Nadja’s eyes made one last desperate pass over the crowd. With no sign of her cousin, Nadja resigned herself to the fact that she would have to sing the song whether she wanted to or not. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, swallowing her anxiety as the band once again cued her entrance.

  It was a sweet love song with a simple but honest narrative which played at odds with the intricate melodic line. Nadja warbled her way through the first verse, catching her breath where she could, while her nerves added an extra dash of vibrato to her mediocre voice. She wished to be anywhere in the world other than on that stage at that moment. The smile she forced to her lips as she began the first chorus looked more like a pained grimace. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Jamila standing behind the desserts table, a serving spoon in hand and a warm smile across her face. Jamila bobbed an encouraging nod, and Nadja transformed.

  Who was this jelly-legged girl standing petrified before a crowd of people she had known all her life?

  Nadja felt her back straighten and her chin lift. Her clenched fists relaxed at her side, and she looked into the crowd, making eye contact with every person in turn.

  She was the daughter of Jamila Filamen. A woman who stood tall and strong when met with adversity. A woman who made her own way and most certainly did not make excuses. Nadja was marrying Luca and her mother-in-law wanted to show her off. This was her life. At that moment she chose to do everything in her power to be worthy of it, finding enjoyment where she could and rising to meet any challenges that came along, with determination and grace.

  As Nadja began the second verse, her grimace melted into a real smile. Her new confidence worked its unique magic on her voice in a way that only confidence could, changing it from a timorous, hushed twitter into a warm mantle of tones, swathing the listeners in comfort and lulling them into a relaxed reverie.

  Nadja tilted her head and locked eyes with Luca, who was looking up at her with curious interest. She sang the final verse to him. A story of lovers reunited and undying love and devotion flowed from her lips, and she sang every word as if singing only for him.

  A strange, puzzled look flitted across Luca’s features. Then suddenly, the cloud lifted and a wide smile covered his face as he stared back at her in frank admiration. His eyes danced with amusement and longing. The heat of his gaze increased with each passing beat, and Nadja seemed unable to tear her eyes away from him as she sang the last few words.

  The crowd erupted into thunderous applause, breaking their connection and snapping Nadja’s attention forward. She returned the acclaim with a gracious bow as Naaro skittered across the platform, basking in the praise and glowing like the noontime sun. Nadja allowed her mother-in-law to lead her off the stage while the band struck up the next song. A wave of relief washed over her when her feet landed back on the ground.

  “Marvelous! Absolutely marvelous!” crooned Naaro. “I must say I was a bit worried about you at the start. But, you turned it around and really came into your own by the second verse. Well done, my dear!”

  “Well done, indeed.”

  Luca appeared next to Nadja, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. She stiffened at his unexpe
cted gesture, then relaxed against his side.

  “Thank you both. I hope it was all right,” she said. And then, in a low voice, “Singing is not one of my greater talents, but you’d have trouble finding anyone who plays the flute as well as I do.”

  Naaro nodded conspiratorially.

  “Speaking of my flute, has either of you seen Kizzy?”

  “Oh no dear, not since earlier this evening,”

  “She hasn’t returned from the, ah, errand you sent her on,” said Luca.

  Nadja furrowed her brow. “I need to go check on her.”

  Luca tightened his grip on her waist. “I’m sure she’s fine,” he said, taking her hand in his and raising it to his lips. “And we still have so many things to discuss.”

  She looked up at him in surprise, caught off guard by his public display of affection. “You’re right, of course,” she said sweetly, “and I’ll only be gone for a few moments. Would you mind getting me a drink of water? I’m parched after that song. I’ll meet you back at the arbor in a few minutes.”

  Leaving no room for argument, Nadja pried herself away from Luca’s grasp and made a beeline towards the camp.

  The chatter and music faded away as she approached the empty camp. The sun was gone, and the new moon did nothing to light her path. The festival fires cast dancing shadows along the edge of camp. Their light, and the warmth they provided, faded to nothingness as she neared the camp’s center. Her soft footfalls along the dirt path rang out like pounding fists in the silent settlement. Still no sign of Kizzy. The empty stillness of the camp sent a shiver up Nadja’s spine.

  “Kizzy?”

  Maybe she’d had trouble finding the flute. Or maybe she made it back to the festival, and they missed each other in passing. Nadja decided to peek in at her tent to be sure. Wrapping her arms around herself, she picked up her pace.

  When she got to her tent, she lifted the flap and called into the blackness. No answer.

  Satisfied Kizzy must have returned to the festival, Nadja closed the flap and headed back through the camp, scolding herself for not bringing a lantern, or a cloak for that matter, along with her.