Inharmonic (The Music Maker Series Book 1) Page 24

  She looked at his mouth again, his full lips unmoving.

  She wondered where they were in the song when Pax’s eyebrows drew together and the corners of his mouth pulled down. He released her hands and stepped back, turning away from her to face the audience. A chill swooped in to replace the warmth of his nearness causing Nadja’s heart to ache. His voice, low and melancholy, brought her back to the present.

  “Then ever like the fickle moon

  Which pulls the tide back out to sea

  My love was gone, but over-soon

  And brokenhearted there left me.”

  She didn’t want him to pull away. Her heart pulsed in time to the music as it swelled and permeated the air with longing. She reached out for Pax and drew him back to her, threading her fingers through his and singing the final verse.

  “But come again, my love, my heart . . .”

  She dropped her mask of indifference. Her feelings shone on her face as clearly as the sunrise.

  “My arms will enfold you once more . . .”

  Nadja’s fingers outlined the solid muscles in his arms as they traveled upwards to rest on his shoulders. Pax brought his hands to her waist, pulling her against him, his jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with a desire matching her own.

  “And kiss your lips and never part . . .”

  He reached up and cupped the back of her head, weaving his fingers through her hair. They leaned in, their foreheads coming to rest against one another.

  “Like the tide along the ocean shore.”

  Nadja’s eyelids fell shut once more as his breath washed over her. The room spun, threatening her ability to remain standing. She slid one hand down across the hard plane of his chest. She could feel his heart racing and knew hers beat just as quickly. Their chests rose and fell together as Pax’s voice joined hers in the final refrain.

  “The waves may crash and roll and roar

  But I am my love’s forevermore.”

  With their faces inches apart, Nadja held her breath as the band played the outro.

  The moment of silence following the final note was broken by a smattering of enthusiastic applause. Reluctantly, Nadja stepped away from Pax, and they both turned to bow to the crowd. When she stood up again, she noticed many things at once.

  A flash of movement at the bar caught her eye. The cloaked man hurried across the room towards the door. As he neared the exit, a beam of lantern light pierced the darkness beneath his hood and, for a second, illuminated the face hidden there. It wasn’t Baulo’s. Nadja puffed out a quick sigh of relief before something else caught her attention.

  The entire demeanor of the room had changed. The crowd itself, including the conservatory students, had diminished in size. Half of the women at the large table were gone as were some of the other patrons. The remaining singles fidgeted uncomfortably in their seats.

  The couples, on the other hand, were more intimately engaged. Nadja was shocked to find most of them locked in ardent embraces, faces pressed together, lips and hands roving. True, she had never been in the capital city during a Heartstide Festival, but she was surprised at the blatant public displays of affection.

  Was she really that bad?

  Nadja knew her vocal skills left something to be desired, but most people had the common courtesy to at least feign attention. And, no one had ever thought her singing terrible enough to leave in the middle of a song.

  Or maybe they had, but were just kind enough to keep that opinion to themselves.

  Nadja’s heart sank.

  All the insecurities Pax had helped her defeat only moments ago came rushing back. She turned to him, seeking reassurance. The scene before her stole the breath from her lungs.

  Pax, his broad back facing her, was bent low, and a pair of slender arms wrapped around his neck. Nadja stood rooted in place, staring as the seconds ticked by. Finally, he straightened and shifted his weight, giving her a clear view of the person to whom the arms belonged.

  Laurel stood in front of him, eyes glistening, with a beautiful smile shining up at him. Nadja thought she heard Laurel praising Pax’s performance, but she couldn’t be sure. Her mind was fighting a war between what her eyes and ears were telling her and what her heart refused to believe.

  Laurel looked past Pax’s shoulder. She met Nadja’s eyes and giggled before turning back to Pax.

  The air, sweetly scented with new spring blooms, became sickening. Nadja swallowed, forcing down the supper threatening to escape her belly. She couldn’t face him. Not now.

  Before he had a chance to turn around, Nadja leapt from the stage and hurried out the door.

  Chapter 27

  Nadja lay beneath the warm water moving her arms back and forth and letting the temporary current rock and soothe her exhausted body. Her head pounded and her muscles were tighter than a drum head.

  She’d spent most of the day fighting invisible enemies in her little corner of the orchard. Her hurt and frustration found release, and her mind escape, as she jumped, rolled, struck, and dodged. One tree in particular had taken a bashing, and Nadja hoped she had done no irreparable damage.

  Bubbles broke the surface of the water as she sat up and smoothed back her wet hair. After a quick survey of the bath, she was glad to find herself still alone. Thankfully last night’s performance had preceded their day off. By keeping to the untrodden areas of the grounds and away from the dining hall, she’d avoided seeing anyone. And by anyone, she meant Pax.

  Her mind flashed to the night before. The heat in his eyes. His body pressed against hers.

  Nadja groaned and slipped below the water’s surface once more, reaching out to turn on the cold tap as she did so.

  It hadn’t been real.

  How could she have been so stupid?

  She recalled Laurel congratulating Pax on his performance. And that’s all it had been. A performance. One he had played convincingly enough to fool her. And if Laurel’s praise hadn’t been enough to prove Nadja’s foolishness, the memory of seeing the two of them kiss, on stage for the world to see, was.

  Nadja released a few air bubbles, and the tightening in her chest subsided. She wondered if she could stay on the bottom of the tub for the rest of her life. She could definitely make it for a few minutes more.

  When the cold water had done its job, Nadja reluctantly emerged from the bath, shivering as she toweled off and got dressed. She made her way back to her room, avoiding the glances of people she passed in the hallway.

  “There you are,” said Helaine as Nadja entered the room. She was propped against the pillows in her bed, and the hoarseness in her voice was little improved. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you all day.”

  Nadja gave her roommate an exhausted half smile.

  Helaine had not been in their room when Nadja had returned the night before, for which she had been glad. And Nadja had slipped out early that morning before Helaine had woken up. She hadn’t been ready to talk yet. But after putting a day’s time between herself and last night’s performance, she was ready to handle whatever questions Helaine might pose.

  “My, you look positively brown!” her roommate continued.

  Nadja walked over to her nightstand and picked up the silver mirror, a warm reminder of her mother. How she wished she could talk to her.

  Instead, she peered into the mirror and inspected her face. The fallow coloring she had developed from weeks spent mostly indoors was transformed into a deep tan. The effect gave her skin a radiant glow which stood in stark contrast to the gloom she felt on the inside.

  “It was such a lovely day. I spent most of it enjoying the outdoors.”

  “It must have been nice to keep you out until sundown. Not that I blame you. If I could have gone out today, I would have. I think the fresh air would do me good, but Petrin thought otherwise.” Helaine smiled shyly at the mention of her beau.

  “I’m sure he prescribed a more enjoyable remedy,” said Nadja, arching an eyebrow at her roommate. Helaine would balk at th
e insinuation, but she was just so easy to tease, Nadja couldn’t help herself.

  True to form, Helaine’s blush stretched up from her neck all the way to the tips of her hair. “Certainly not!” she croaked, then giggled. “But he did bring me supper.” She gestured to the table where a bowl of stew, a roll, and a glass of water sat untouched.

  Nadja’s empty stomach rumbled at the sight of the meal.

  “You can have it if you like,” said Helaine. “I just can’t right now.” She reached up and patted her throat.

  Helaine didn’t need to offer twice. Nadja sat down at the table and scooped up a large spoonful of the stew. The lamb and potatoes were seasoned to perfection, and she ate greedily, just now realizing how hungry she had been.

  Helaine didn’t waste another minute. “Tell me about last night,” she chirped.

  Nadja’s chewing slowed as she studied her stew, trying to find the right words. She decided on a banal reply. “There was a nice turnout.”

  “I’m sure. But how did you do?” Helaine’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

  “Oh, well . . . I—”

  “Because I heard you had quite the effect.” Helaine sat up straight and grinned at Nadja.

  Nadja was puzzled and more than a little hurt her friend would take pleasure in her public humiliation. She had been the only performer who actually drove away paying patrons with her singing. “Quite the effect” was putting it mildly.

  Nadja swallowed her mouthful. “Things didn’t go exactly as I had hoped.”

  “I should think not,” said Helaine, bouncing on the bed. “I mean, it sounds to me like you gave Music for Enjoyment a whole new meaning. ‘Steamy,’ is how Vatara put it.”

  “Vatara?”

  “Yes, she stopped by to check in on me this morning. She said you and Pax practically set the stage on fire.” Helaine giggled. “I didn’t know you got him to fill in for me. Of course, I doubt our version of the song would have carried the same feeling as the one you two sang last night.”

  “It was a last-minute decision,” Nadja mumbled, then shook her head. “Wait, I don’t understand. Pax is a great singer, yes, but me, hardly. And, steamy? Half of the crowd walked out in the middle of the song.”

  Helaine giggled again. “So I heard. Well, I don’t know about all the people who left, but Vatara said Selina and Quinton snuck out to find a more private location.”

  “Huh? Quinton, the percussionist Quinton? I didn’t even know they were friends.”

  “No! Selina would barely give him the time of day, what with him being from the edge of the Waste and her fancying herself above all that. Evidently, they’ve both been secretly admiring each other for a while, but never did anything about it. I guess you and Pax inspired them.” Helaine’s giggles grew irksome.

  Nadja furrowed her brow and rubbed her hand across the ridges there, remembering the scene in The Hen and Harp right after her performance. The missing people, the kissing couples. Was it possible her performance hadn’t been as awful as she’d imagined? Maybe it had even been good?

  “Oh, he stopped by here around lunchtime looking for you.”

  “Quinton?”

  Helaine sighed. “No, silly. Pax.” She gave Nadja a knowing look.

  Nadja’s stomach dropped. She was glad she’d been out all day. She wasn’t ready to face him. Not yet.

  Nadja looked back down at her bowl. “I wonder what he wanted,” she said noncommittally, before shoving the roll into her mouth.

  “Hmm,” said Helaine, tapping a finger on her chin. “Yes I wonder what he wanted. Maybe he wanted to study, or return your music, or discuss the weather. Or maybe he wanted to see you. Since, you know, you two are obviously more than just friends. At least, based on what Vatara saw.”

  “Vatara doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” snapped Nadja. “The next time you see her, please correct her before she goes around gossiping about things which aren’t true.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Helaine. Her scratchy voice, barely above a whisper, carried with it none of the cheerful exuberance it had a moment before.

  “No, I’m sorry,” said Nadja, rubbing her forehead again. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just exhausted, that’s all.” She stood up from the table and trudged over to sit on the edge of Helaine’s bed. “We did give a convincing performance, so it’s no wonder Vatara is confused.”

  “It must have been a good one because she’s sure you two are a couple.”

  “If you have any trouble persuading her otherwise, tell her to talk to Laurel.”

  “Why Laurel?”

  “Because as soon as we finished singing, Laurel and Pax celebrated with some kissing of their own.” The words tasted sour in Nadja’s mouth.

  “Oh.” Helaine’s shoulders drooped. “I’m sorry.”

  Nadja forced a laugh. “Why? We’re just good friends, after all.” She patted her roommate’s leg before rising and moving to her own bed. “But enough talk about that. You need to get some rest.”

  Helaine fell back against her pillows and groaned. “I can’t. I’ve only managed a few minutes here and there all day. I can’t seem to get comfortable. Every time I close my eyes all I can think of is how much my throat hurts and how much I’m missing because I’m stuck in bed.” She stuck out her lower lip.

  “Anything I can do for you?” asked Nadja.

  “No,” Helaine pouted. She punched her pillows a few times before snuggling down into her blankets.

  Nadja made a round about the room, blowing out the lanterns. She returned to her bed and nearly fell into it. Her joints and muscles were paying for that day’s workout. She’d pushed herself too hard. She would have to skip training tomorrow to give her body time to recover.

  Nadja yawned and stretched out before curling up on her side. She pulled the soft blankets over her head in a feeble attempt to smother all the thoughts swirling around inside her mind. The memory of being wrapped in Pax’s arms juxtaposed a vision of Laurel in his embrace. She squeezed her eyes shut and rolled over to her other side.

  “Nadja?” Helaine’s crackled whisper hung in the darkness.

  “Yes?”

  “Will you sing me a lullaby?”

  Nadja laughed at the ridiculousness of the request. Not a bitter laugh, but a true belly laugh which eased the tension in her shoulders and neck. “Are you sure you know what you’re asking?”

  “Of course,” said Helaine. “I have heard you sing before, you know. We did rehearse together for the festival.” She paused as Nadja’s chuckles died down. “My mother used to sing to me when I was little, and it helped me fall asleep. And you do have a nice voice whether or not you believe it.” Helaine yawned. “And it has such a lovely smell. Like honeysuckle.” She sighed.

  Nadja rolled onto her back and put one arm behind her head. She stared up into the darkness, contemplating Helaine’s request, her eyelids heavy with fatigue. “What did your mother’s singing smell like?”

  “Nothing. Never smelled anyone’s singing before. Yours is the first.”

  Strange. But then again, Helaine’s condition—talent?—was also something of a mystery. Perhaps it was evolving, responding to a new set of sounds. Nadja hoped not, for Helaine’s sake.

  “All right,” Nadja yawned. “How can I refuse a sick friend?”

  Nadja’s eyes drifted closed. She sang her lullaby, sweet and low, all the while fighting the gentle grasp of sleep which threatened to pull her into its blissful oblivion. Her head swam and the darkness was palpable. Errant yawns punctuated phrases here and there, but she managed to stay awake long enough to carry the tune through to its completion.

  When she finished singing, the room was hushed and still.

  “Helaine?” she murmured.

  A light snore came from Helaine’s bed.

  Nadja smiled and rolled over. Sleep overtook her in seconds.

  Nadja slept fitfully all through the night. A menacing thunderstorm sprang up sometime after midnight, buffeti
ng the shutters with rain and powerful gusts of wind. Bizarre visions of Baulo and Pax swam through her dreams, twisting and overlapping until she didn’t know whom she was running to and whom she was running away from. The storm raged on until the wee hours of the morning as she slipped in and out of her restless slumber. As soon as a hint of indigo lightened the dreary sky, she gave up on sleep.

  She climbed out of bed and crept to the wardrobe. At this early hour she didn’t light any lanterns, making it difficult to see. But Helaine was still sound asleep, and Nadja hoped she would stay that way for at least a few more hours. The storm was moving on, and with Helaine’s recovery still in the early stages, she could use as much sleep as she could get.

  Nadja pulled on a pair of dark-gray pants and a burgundy tunic. At least, she hoped that’s what they were. In the predawn darkness, everything was varying shades of the same color. She soaked a cloth in the cold water from her basin and tried to scrub the sleepiness from her face. The shock of the chilly water against her warm skin helped to rouse her and chase away a bit of the fog in her head. She hoped the cup of strong coffee awaiting her in the dining hall would take care of the rest of it.

  Nadja hung the cloth over the side of the basin and turned back towards her bed. She had taken no more than two steps when her toes caught some invisible obstacle and sent her flying into the table and chairs. Her cup and bowl, right where she had left them the night before, leapt over the edge of the table and scattered across the floor. She managed to catch herself from following suit, but not before her chin slammed into the back of one of the chairs, sending it toppling over with a crash.

  So much for making a stealthy escape.

  A metallic tang swept across her tastebuds as blood leaked from where she had bit her tongue in the fall.

  “Sorry,” she ground out, righting herself and shuffling over to her bed. “I’ll just be a minute.” She hoped Helaine would be able to go back to sleep.

  Nadja picked up the lantern from her bedside table and lit it. Her boots, the cause of all the commotion, were right where she had dropped them last night instead of under the edge of her bed where she normally kept them. Grumbling under her breath, she picked them up and put them on.