Inharmonic (The Music Maker Series Book 1) Read online

  Nadja rubbed her eyes and tried to focus on the words in front of her.

  “The Grenyan Cogs Reels, a colloquial derivation from the rightly named Cruxnik Reels, is a subset of dance songs originating from the late Tynan Era known as Pastoral Industry Songs, or Industry Songs. This type of song seeks to impress upon the listener a sense of the rural worker at his everyday task, while emphasizing the delight which comes from reaping the fruits of his labor.

  Cogs Reels can be best identified by the incessant quarter note rhythm, commonly carried along the bass line, which attempts to mimic the steady tick-tick-tick-tick of gear teeth set in perpetual motion above a millstone by the miller himself.

  Not to be confused with Kogs Reels, Cogs Reels lack a substantial . . .”

  “Ugh,” Nadja groaned, letting her head fall onto the book with a thud. She took a deep breath. The scent of paper and leather filled her nostrils. If she wasn’t careful, she’d fall asleep right there and wake up in a puddle of drool.

  “Nadja?”

  Her head snapped up. Helaine’s dark eyes stared back at her through heavy lids.

  “Oh my—” said Nadja, scrambling off her bed and over to Helaine’s. “Helaine!” She reached out and smoothed Helaine’s hair back from her face. Her forehead was cool and dry, not a trace of fever.

  Helaine smiled up at her. “What are you doing?” Then she blinked, taking in her surroundings. Confusion overtook her relaxed features, and she tried to sit up. “Where are we?”

  “You’re fine,” said Nadja, placing her hands on Helaine’s shoulders and helping her to lie back. “We’re in the infirmary.”

  “Why?” Helaine’s voice rose in pitch, her confusion transforming into panic. “Is something wrong with me?”

  Hearing the sound of voices, Nurse Silvers rushed from his office

  Nadja sidestepped the question. “You were sleeping. How do you feel?”

  Helaine swallowed hard, then thought for a moment. “Heavy. Like I weigh a ton. But my throat feels so much better now.” She turned her head. “Nurse Silvers,” she said, offering him a weak smile. “It’s so nice to see you, though I would have rather not seen you under these circumstances. Of course, I’m not sure what these circumstances are.”

  Nurse Silvers completed his cursory examination. He smiled down at Helaine. “We are glad to have you back from your little vacation to dreamland, my dear. You’ve been asleep for some time, so it’s natural you should feel foggy and a little out of sorts.”

  “How long have I been asleep?”

  “Three days.”

  Helaine bolted upright in the bed. “Three days?! I don’t understand. How does that happen? Is something wrong with me? I mean, I know something was wrong with me, but I thought it was just a sore throat. It doesn’t hurt anymore. Petrin had the same thing. Oh no, Petrin! Is he all right? Did the same thing happen to him?” Her hands gripped and released the sheets over and over as she searched the remaining beds for any sign of him.

  “No, no, no,” Nadja cooed, reaching over to still Helaine’s frenetic hands. “Petrin is fine. In fact, we’ve been taking turns staying with you while you’ve been here.”

  Nurse Silvers chuckled. “That’s a lot more spunk than I would have expected so soon after waking. It’s a good sign. From what I can tell, you appear in good health. But, you need to try to relax. We all have a lot of questions, and I know Doctor Corinson will want to examine you as soon as possible.”

  The infirmary became a hive of activity. Nadja sent Timothy to notify Petrin that Helaine was awake, and he returned with both Petrin and Pax. Doctor Corinson was not long behind them, poking and prodding Helaine, and asking her the same questions she had already answered over and over again. The grandmasters stopped by as their schedules permitted, so Nadja wasn’t surprised when Grandmaster Kero scuttled in the door.

  “How are you, Helaine?” Meliina asked, patting Helaine’s hand in her calming manner.

  “All of this fuss is making me nervous, but I really do feel fine.”

  Meliina smiled and nodded. “Good.”

  Doctor Corinson swooped in to do yet another test, and Meliina stepped away from the bed, pulling Nadja along with her. “Would you join me in my office, Nadja?” she asked. “I haven’t seen you in a few days, and we have some catching up to do.”

  “Of course,” said Nadja, collecting her book from where it lay open on the bed. She had already missed two lessons, so there was certainly work which needed to be made up. She followed Meliina down the slate-tiled hallway, trying to come up with the best way to tell her she’d misplaced her instrument.

  Meliina ushered Nadja into the tidy office and closed the door behind her.

  “Would you like some tea?” Meliina asked.

  Nadja was surprised. Meliina had never offered her refreshment. “That would be nice,” she said, hesitantly.

  “Please, have a seat,” said Meliina, pointing at one of the two soft chairs near her desk instead of the hard-back chairs they usually assumed for lessons.

  Surprised again, Nadja sat and rested the book across her lap.

  “You can put that on my desk. I know how heavy it is,” said Meliina with a twinkle in her eye.

  Nadja obeyed, hoisting the book onto the desk and resuming her seat. She should be pleased at the seating arrangement. It meant there would be no playing today. Maybe that would buy her enough time to find her flute before Grandmaster Kero was any wiser. Still, something about Meliina’s demeanor gave Nadja a sinking feeling.

  “How have you been?” asked Meliina, handing Nadja a sturdy mug filled with a sweet smelling herbal brew.

  “Well,” replied Nadja before taking a sip. Peach and ginger. Delicious. “Tired, but fine.”

  Meliina sank into the seat opposite Nadja and sipped her tea, studying Nadja with interest. “And Helaine? Tell me about what happened when she awoke.”

  Nadja recounted the events of the morning while Meliina listened intently, at intervals offering small nods of encouragement.

  At last, Nadja finished her narrative.

  “And she remembers nothing?” asked Meliina.

  “Nothing after I finished singing to her. Actually, she was already tired. I’m pretty sure she was asleep before I finished.”

  “More’s the better,” Meliina muttered.

  Nadja flushed. She knew how the grandmaster regarded her singing. And, in her own opinion, rightly so. Still, the comment stung.

  “What about you?” asked Meliina.

  Nadja cast Meliina a questioning glance above the rim of her mug before taking another sip. “What about me?”

  “How were you feeling that night?”

  Nadja thought back to her day spent fighting herself in the orchard. It seemed like ages ago, but her muscles had only just recovered from the abuse.

  “Exhausted,” she said finally. “Like I could sleep for days. We turned in at the same time, and I hardly remember finishing the song before I fell asleep, too.”

  “Ahh,” said Meliina, giving Nadja a knowing nod as if that explained everything. Her eyes turned thoughtful and Nadja looked down into her mug, avoiding her gaze. The air between them was suddenly heavy with something unspoken, and Nadja didn’t want to be the one to break the silence. Whatever it was, she feared it was something best left unsaid.

  Meliina reached towards the book atop her desk and ran her fingers along its cover. “How is your reading coming along?”

  Relieved by the change of subject, Nadja’s tension eased. “I’m almost done. But I have to admit, that,” she said, pointing to the book, “is not what I would consider light reading.”

  Meliina smiled. “No, I suppose not. But, it is worth your time to study. Tell me,” she paused, taking another sip of tea, her forceful gulp audible. “What did you think of Musica Antiqua and Other Lost Arts?”

  “Much better,” said Nadja, brightening. “It was enlightening, and much easier to read. I didn’t realize Amrantir was originally settled by
immigrants from Grenyan.”

  “Yes, the land of your forefathers,” said Meliina, arching an eyebrow.

  “Mmm hmm.” Nadja’s affirmation echoed in her mug as she downed the rest of her tea.

  “But, they weren’t the first ones here.”

  “The Mevocali.”

  “Yes. A fascinating people, don’t you think? The Battle at Annuay was a tragedy.”

  “Maybe,” said Nadja, tilting her head. “It would be sad for that to happen to any people. But then, what would Amrantir be like if they had survived? I think most people assume we’d all be under some kind of Mevocali mind control by now. The Mevocali would still be alive, but would our lives even be worth living?”

  “One wonders. But nothing in their history suggests any tendency towards violence. The Mevocali were, from what we can tell, a peaceful people. They used their gifts mainly to heal the body and mind, something we master musicians have never managed. Until their powers evolved, the only thing about them which could be troublesome were the untrained young ones.”

  “Yes,” agreed Nadja. “But, according to Musica Antiqua, they had rules in place to prevent that from being a problem.”

  “True,” said Meliina. “But, what if someone broke those rules?”

  Nadja chuckled. “Then I suppose they’d be in for trouble on all fronts.”

  She smiled at Meliina, but the grandmaster’s face was full of something Nadja couldn’t comprehend. Worry? Reluctance? Definitely not mirth.

  That heavy air settled between them once again, and Nadja swallowed hard. She rubbed her damp palms along the top of her thighs as a sinking sensation pulled at her stomach. For what reason, she did not know.

  At last, Meliina spoke. “It was the Pantomarian folk tune which first caught my attention.”

  Again with the abrupt change of subject. Nadja wondered where this new line of conversation was going.

  “Usually, when my students have trouble internalizing a piece, I have them learn to sing it first. The mind can more clearly focus on the essence of the song when it’s not also burdened with the technicality of manipulating the instrument. So naturally, I asked you to do just that.”

  Nadja cringed. “But that didn’t work for me. I know it frustrated you.”

  Meliina set her unfinished tea on a round, flat piece of cork situated equidistant between the class notebook and wooden metronome neatly arranged on her desktop.

  “No, I wasn’t frustrated. You were.”

  “Well, disappointed. Or angry. I could see it on your face as clearly as a full moon at midnight.”

  “No,” Meliina repeated. “That was you.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Nadja, a hint of annoyance lacing her words. How could Grandmaster Kero sit across from her and deny her reaction when it had been so obvious at the time?

  Meliina leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees. “How did you feel about it?”

  “Frustrated. I wasn’t getting it, and you kept pushing. Like trying to milk a bull,” Nadja smiled wryly, “you weren’t going to get what you hoped for. But you had me sing it over and over again.”

  “And every time I corrected you,” Meliina interrupted, “you became more agitated. I didn’t notice it at first. The oppressive weight bearing down on my shoulders. The way the air in the room warmed until I began to sweat. My feelings were suddenly not my own. I grew more angry and frustrated and defeated every time you tried to sing a phrase. I fought this overwhelming urge to grab you by the shoulders and shake you, all the while knowing it was not me entertaining such thoughts. They were coming from you.”

  Nadja stared at Meliina incredulously. Was her teacher having a mental break? It was one thing to feel empathy for someone. But that burden lay with the empath, not the person projecting their feelings. It was impossible to force your emotions on another individual.

  “Then this happened with Helaine. Simply a lullaby.” Meliina spoke the words with a dismissive wave of her hand. “But how were you feeling when you sang for her?”

  Nadja didn’t reply. She held her breath, trying to slow her increasing heartbeat.

  “Like you could sleep for days,” Meliina said softly, repeating Nadja’s own words back to her. “The doctors can examine Helaine all they want, but they will not find the cause of her long sleep. Not unless they look to you.”

  The mug in Nadja’s hand trembled, and she banged it down on Meliina’s desk, heedless of the precision with which the grandmaster’s notebooks and music paraphernalia were arranged. She shot up from her seat and paced over to a bookcase.

  “You’re blaming Helaine’s illness on me?” she practically shouted. “That’s a stretch. How could I have caused her condition?”

  “Nadja,” said Meliina, rising smoothly from her chair and folding her hands in front of her. “Why do you think I asked you to read Musica Antiqua?”

  “To further my education, obviously,” said Nadja sarcastically.

  “There’s a reason Mevocali stayed amongst their own people. If the ability manifested itself and the wielder was not properly trained, it could have damaging effects. The power behind the gift depends as much on the emotion of the singer as on the song itself.”

  Nadja whirled on Meliina. “What are you saying?”

  Meliina smiled sadly at her. “Come now. You’re a bright young woman. Haven’t you pieced it together?”

  No.

  “That’s impossible,” Nadja spat. “The ability is passed through bloodlines. I couldn’t be what you think I am.”

  “That’s why I sought out your uncle. I hoped he might illuminate the situation,” said Meliina.

  Nadja froze, remembering the day she ran into him coming out of Meliina’s office. Her pulse slammed against the sides of her head like two drum mallets beating a quick tempo. She took a ragged breath.

  “And what did he say?” she asked, meeting Meliina’s eyes.

  Meliina pursed her lips. “I think it’s best you speak to him about the particulars.”

  No!

  Nadja didn’t need to speak to him. Whatever he’d said had done nothing to dissuade Grandmaster Kero’s suspicions. Could it be true? Was she really what Grandmaster Kero suspected?

  Mevocali.

  As soon as the word entered her brain, the room started to spin. She reached out and steadied herself against the bookcase. Her mind flashed through all the times she sang in recent memory. One by one, events locked into place.

  The Heartstide performance with Pax. Her feelings for him ran deep and strong, and she had allowed that to come through in the song. Could it have been more than just the song choice which led the audience in an amorous direction?

  Then there was the night after she had fled the Wanderer camp. She’d been alone and afraid. She had known she was saying goodbye to the only life she had ever known, and she’d poured out her grief in song. The next morning, every living thing around her was dead.

  Dead. Could she have killed Helaine? The thought struck her like a knife to the gut, making her suck in her breath. She had almost killed Baulo.

  Baulo!

  Suddenly it made sense. She hadn’t sung to Baulo. But Grandmaster Kero said it was as much the emotion behind the song as the song itself which held the power. And behind her strange vocalizations—her scream—she had only one thought. And she had felt it with an intensity she had never felt before.

  Stop.

  Stop what you are doing.

  And he did.

  Stop being . . .

  And he almost had.

  Nadja pinched the bridge of her nose. She had been wrong. She did need to speak with her uncle. Her entire world just turned on its head, leaving her with countless questions. And he was one person who might have answers.

  She stumbled to the door, still dizzy from the revelation.

  “Where are you going?” asked Meliina, reaching out a steadying hand.

  “To see my uncle.”

  “You won’t find him tod
ay, I’m afraid. The Delegation has convened, so he’s in Chansey.”

  Nadja’s eyes narrowed. Clearly, her uncle’s relationship with Meliina was closer than she thought.

  She jerked away from Meliina’s hand and gritted her teeth. “Then I’ll pack for warm weather.”

  Chapter 30

  As Nadja passed out of the city gates onto the wharf, she was struck with the same tingling sense of anticipation she’d felt the first time she’d crossed that threshold. Just like before, her whole life was a jumbled mess, and her uncle held the key to setting it right.

  The wharf was as lively and noisy as ever. The hot midday sun glinted off of her blowpipe as she walked. With the Delegation in session she must remain vigilant. Baulo was in Cantio, and until she got out of the city, she would have to watch her back. It would be easy enough to go unnoticed in the horde, which could be a good or bad thing, depending on whom she ran into.

  Everyone was too focused on their own business to take notice of her. She made her way easily to the Montgomery & Co. office. Instead of going inside, however, she circled around the building to the back door. She leaned her blowpipe against the side of the building and pulled her pack around in front.

  She had gone straight to her room when she’d left Meliina’s office earlier that morning. After she had dug her pack out of the back of her wardrobe, she packed lightly, just enough for a couple days. As she had tossed in the small tub of Pax’s healing ointment and pocketed some of the pearls her mother had given her, she’d formulated a plan to get to her uncle.

  Getting to Chansey as fast as possible was the goal. Boats filled the Cantio harbor, moving things in and out of Amrantir every hour. But those carrying passengers only departed twice a week, and Nadja didn’t have time to wait two days for the next departure. Fortunately, she knew someone who had plenty of boats. Unfortunately, he never allowed passengers.

  Nadja reached into her pack and removed the small key her uncle had given her when she had lived with him. Then, it had been mostly so she could keep herself locked in. Now, it would help her leave.

  She tossed a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure no one was paying attention before she slipped the key into the lock. A slight turn, a smooth click, and she was in. She slipped through the door as silently as possible, pulling her blowpipe in behind her. Once she was in the little stairwell, she settled her blowpipe and pack against the back door and eased the boots off her feet.