Inharmonic (The Music Maker Series Book 1) Read online

  Since he kept the back door locked, and Branson manned the front desk like a grumpy, immovable boulder, Uncle Tau never bothered to lock his office door. Nadja stepped softly as she entered the office, thankful for both her light frame and the rug covering most of the floor. Her boots probably wouldn’t have made noise, but she didn’t want to risk tracking in any evidence of her clandestine visit.

  As she moved towards the imposing mahogany desk, she felt guilty to be sneaking through her uncle’s private business. But, Branson would never give her the information she sought, even if she was Tau’s niece.

  Nadja sifted through the papers and notebooks on top of the desk with no luck. She carefully opened and closed the desk’s drawers, picking through each one, being careful not to rearrange anything.

  She found what she was looking for in the bottom drawer. The leather-bound notebook was soft, and she laid it on top of the desk, flipping through the pages until she found one marked with the current date. The page was divided into two columns, one titled Arrivals and the other, Departures. Nadja ran her finger down the Departures column looking for a barge headed to Chansey. There. Nereid’s Wake. Departing in a few hours.

  Nadja closed the notebook and placed it back in the drawer. She arranged the papers and books the way she had found them and crept back to the stairwell. Slipping her feet back into her boots, she shouldered her pack and picked up her blowpipe before easing her way back outside and locking the door behind her. She took a deep, calming breath and surveyed the area. Then, she headed towards the docks.

  Until she began searching for the barge which would take her to Chansey, she hadn’t realized how considerable her uncle’s shipping company was. Nearly a third of the berths in the dock held barges baring the Montgomery & Co. flag. After a half hour of walking along the dock, she spotted Nereid’s Wake.

  The ship was abuzz with activity as four dockmen loaded crates into the bottom hold of the barge. The barges which ran the deeper waters of the Nostirivin were modified with the addition of large holds which sat below the water level. These holds allowed the boats to carry more cargo than the other flat-bottomed barges which traveled along the Kalmari. Nadja noticed one man standing guard near the gangplank, arms folded across his chest, keeping a watchful eye on the workers. The wooden boxes rocked back and forth, their contents jingling as the men carried them from the freight cart onto the boat with practiced steps. A worn, but sturdy-looking mule was hitched to the cart, staring at the wooden planks of the dock as if they were the most interesting things in his small world.

  Keeping her stride as casual as possible to avoid any unwanted attention, she continued strolling past the boat for a minute or two before turning away from the dock, then doubling back. Now that she had found the boat, the next question was how to get aboard.

  The dock swarmed with people and beasts, loading and unloading cargo from freighters and fishing vessels. The air carried an unmistakably fishy aroma. While the Montgomery & Co. barges limited their travels to the Nostirivin and Kalmari Rivers, some of the smaller fishing boats sailed directly into Cantio with holds full of saltwater fish pulled from the Shadow Sea.

  Mountains of crates and barrels covered with sheets of canvas and burlap dotted the inland edge of the dock. These shipments were prepared for loading but awaiting the arrival of their respective freighters. Nadja glanced around before darting into one of the piles and pulling the cloth down behind her.

  She stood motionless, waiting for someone to reach under the covering and snatch her out. But no one came. Keeping low, she inched her way towards the front of the pile, squeezing between boxes and around barrels. She knelt where two of the larger crates sat crosswise, creating a small, triangular patch of open ground. She brought her blowpipe forward and laid it across the top of a crate, using the far end of the pipe to lift the edge of the tarp just enough to see out.

  Her position gave her a good sight line to Nereid’s Wake. The berth next to the barge was empty, but there was no way to board from that side without being seen by the guard.

  The mule nickered as the weight in the cart shifted, pulling against its harness. Nadja studied the animal; the one unpredictable variable in the well-rehearsed routine.

  Sliding her right hand to her waist, she felt the soft leather of her dart pouch. She slipped out a dart and inserted it into the mouthpiece of her blowpipe, aiming the opposite end at the mule. She brought the pipe to her mouth and waited.

  Nadja’s breathing became shallow as the crowd of people flowed back and forth along the dock. Her clear shot flickered open and closed, open and closed, as bodies passed continuously between her and the mule. She had one shot.

  She took a steadying breath and closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of the activity around her. When she opened them again, she took a deep breath and held it. Sighting the mule, she focused on its hindquarters. The next moment her shot cleared. She forced the air from her lungs in one swift blast, sending the dart through the crowd and directly into the mule’s rump.

  The animal’s eyes rolled back in surprise. It let out a terrified bray and bolted down the dock, spilling boxes from the back of the cart. Passersby dove out of the way to avoid being trampled. The stunned dockmen dropped their crates and scrambled to intercept the mule, shaking their fists and shouting obscenities and death threats at the poor animal.

  One of the crates laid broken where it fell. Silver serving pieces spilled out, creating a sparkling puddle upon which the splintered bits of wood floated. Nadja smiled. So that explained the jingling.

  The guard warily eyed the silver. Nadja figured he could handle two or three would-be thieves, but if the crowd moved en masse, it would be easy pickings. The guard must have thought the same. He moved down the gangplank, snatching up a canvas tarp along the way. Nadja seized her opportunity.

  As the guard swept the tarp over the mangled cargo, Nadja slipped from her hiding place and stole down the pier separating Nereid’s Wake from the empty berth. The crowd was still in an uproar. Everyone’s attention was focused on the mule, making it easy for Nadja to go unnoticed as she hopped over the side of the barge and scrambled down into the hold.

  Nadja opened her mouth to breathe as the thick, stale air filled her lungs. It was cooler out of the sun’s beaming rays, but the solid walls and lack of windows denied the river breeze entry into the humid room. The ceiling hung low, which wasn’t a problem for Nadja, but she imagined most of the dockmen couldn’t stand up straight in the room.

  The hold was about half-full. Crates were marked with their destinations and arranged accordingly, creating thin walkways between each set. She slipped to the back of the room and hunkered down in a nook which she hoped would remain undisturbed until they reached Chansey.

  A few hours later, with the recovered cargo stowed, the hold door closed, plunging Nadja into darkness. Finally, alone and without fear of discovery, she rolled her shoulders, ridding herself of the tension knotting her muscles.

  The thoughts she’d kept at bay for most of the afternoon came flooding back with glaring intensity under the cover of darkness.

  Mevocali.

  The word sounded beautifully insidious as she mulled it over, luring her in with its musicality only to sting when she considered its full ramifications.

  But how? And why hadn’t her mother ever mentioned it to her? If Jamila knew of Nadja’s abilities, she had never breathed a word. Maybe she didn’t know. Not all Mevocali manifested their abilities. Perhaps Jamila merely passed it along to her daughter.

  Or maybe it came through her father’s line. Nadja wished, not for the first time, her father had lived long enough for her to know him. He was an only child, and his parents had died years ago. She was the last of his line. Perhaps she could have found a clue in her memories of him if he had lived.

  One thing was certain. If she truly was Mevocali, she had inherited it from an ancestor. A person didn’t become Mevocali like one might become a baker or a blacksmith. But, t
he strict rules which guided intermarriage between Man and Mevocali eliminated that possibility. If one of her Dunnan ancestors had married a Mevocali, they would have been required to stay with the Mevocali people. She would have never been born a Wanderer. In fact, the very possibility of her existence would have been eliminated when the Mevocali were destroyed.

  Unless . . .

  What was it Meliina said?

  “What if someone broke those rules?”

  Nadja pressed her fingers to her temples and squeezed her eyes shut trying to soothe the pounding which had set in. It was no use trying to figure it out now. All she had were questions. Her uncle was the one with the answers.

  Muffled voices and the sound of footsteps overhead told Nadja they were about to cast off. She disassembled her blowpipe and tucked it under her pack, fluffing the bag up like a pillow. She stretched out and leaned her head against it. It would take two and a half days to reach Chansey. She might as well get comfortable.

  Chapter 31

  The sound of a latch being lifted startled Nadja awake. The gentle motion of the boat had lulled her to sleep minutes ago? Hours ago? In the windowless room she had no idea of the time.

  She heard the door open, but no light entered the hold. Hours it was.

  Her sleep-induced fog disappeared in an instant, and her senses went on high alert. She sat up and pulled her knees to her chest, making herself as small as possible.

  The door closed, and Nadja breathed a sigh of relief. She began to relax against her pack once more when a warm glow lit up the far side of the hold. Snapping back to attention, her ears strained to pick up anything.

  Faintly, she heard footsteps. Slow. Deliberate. The light grew brighter, pausing every few steps as if the intruder was making a methodical sweep of the room. His footsteps were nearly silent, and Nadja wondered if he was trying to keep his presence in the hold a secret. With nowhere else to go, she ducked her head between her knees and willed herself to become invisible.

  A board creaked, and she flinched. Whoever he was, he was almost on top of her. Would he turn her in? Would they bring charges against her for stowing away? Would they drop her at the next port?

  Nadja lifted her head and peered over her knees just as the lantern appeared around the corner, blinding her. She winced and threw up her hand to block the light. A large shadowy figure loomed behind the lantern, but Nadja couldn’t make out his features.

  “Look,” she stammered. “I—”

  “Shhh!” The figure swooped towards her, pressing his fingers to her mouth.

  Nadja recoiled as the lantern lowered and the intruder’s face came within inches of her own.

  Her eyes widened.

  Pax smirked at her. “Surprise,” he whispered.

  A mixture of relief and displeasure washed over Nadja, fighting for dominance against the apprehensive desire which always appeared when he did.

  “What are you doing here?” she hissed, brushing away his fingers.

  “I could ask you the same thing.”

  “I’m on my way to Chansey. Obviously.”

  “Why?”

  “Business.”

  “And what was so important you needed to stow away instead of waiting a few days for one of the passenger boats?”

  “Personal business.” She glared at him. Why wouldn’t he leave her alone? “Your turn. Why are you here?”

  Pax gave her an exasperated look. “I should think the answer to that was also obvious.”

  Nadja regarded him flatly.

  His eyes turned tender as he gathered his thoughts. “When Grandmaster Kero returned to the infirmary without you, I got concerned. She said you needed to speak with your uncle.” Pax tilted his head and studied her. “You spent every waking moment with Helaine while she was unconscious. But, the minute she wakes up you disappear?” He shook his head.

  “How did you find me?”

  “I went to the shipping office. Saw you leaving out the back door and followed you to the docks.” He flashed her one of his winning smiles. “That’s quite a number you did on that mule.”

  Nadja was glad he couldn’t see her face redden in the dim lantern light. He’d been watching her the whole time? Annoyance flashed in her eyes.

  “Look,” she said. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing here, but one stowaway is hard enough to hide. Two is just begging to be caught.”

  Pax leaned back and raised his eyebrows. “Then it’s a good thing there is only one.”

  Nadja’s eyes narrowed.

  Pax spread his arms wide. “You are the only stowaway aboard this fine vessel,” he continued, placing a hand over his heart. “I am just an honest sailor taking advantage of an opportunity.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about that stunt you pulled with the mule. One of the crew was injured trying to calm down the stubborn beast. The captain was in a bind to find someone to fill the spot so close to castoff time. So I volunteered.”

  Nadja bit her lip as her stomach clenched. Her actions had hurt someone. Guilt threatened to well up in her throat, but she swallowed it down. Pax had said “injured,” not killed, and there was nothing she could do about it now. She pushed the thought aside and focused on her current problem.

  “But you’re not a sailor,” she said, crossing her arms.

  “Sure. I’ve always wanted to be a sailor. Just looking to get my feet wet.”

  When Nadja didn’t respond, Pax shrugged. “Well, that’s what I told the captain.”

  “And he hired you like that?”

  “Yep. Who knew the captain had a soft spot for green young men wanting to make a life at sea? You are looking at the newest deckhand of the Nereid’s Wake,” he said, inclining his head.

  Nadja rolled her eyes. Even weathered boatmen weren’t immune to Pax’s silver tongue.

  “Now come on. What’s this personal business?”

  When Nadja didn’t immediately respond, Pax reached out and took her hand. This time she didn’t pull away.

  “Let me help you. Not that you need it,” he added hurriedly when her hand twitched. “I know you’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. But maybe I need to help you for my own sake.” His gaze bounced back and forth between her eyes, probing, searching. His face was open, and his eyes were wide and hopeful. She felt her resolve weakening. “Haven’t I proven you can trust me?” he asked.

  Nadja sighed and glanced down at their joined hands. “It’s not that. It’s just . . .”

  “Does it have something to do with your past?” He traced his thumb over the back of her hand in a soothing circular motion.

  She nodded. “Grandmaster Kero shared some things with me I’m still trying to work through. I’m not ready to discuss them with anyone yet. I don’t know if I’ll ever be.” She looked up at him and smiled weakly. “I don’t understand it, and the more I think about it the more questions I have. One thing is certain though. My uncle has some of the answers I’m looking for.”

  “All right then. We’ll get you to your uncle.” Pax shifted his weight and stood, pulling Nadja up with him. As he stood, he dipped his chin to avoid hitting his head on the low roof, bringing his face close to hers. Goosebumps prickled the back of her neck.

  “I need to get topside before someone wakes up and discovers me missing,” he whispered. His breath stirred the hairs framing her face, sending a shiver down her spine. “Do you need anything?”

  Nadia swallowed and shook her head, not trusting her voice.

  “You should be fine down here. No one has any business in the hold until we dock in Chansey.” Pax reached up with his other hand and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. He looked like he wanted to say something else but thought better about it and dropped his hand. “There’s rain headed our way, so it’ll get bumpy. Just do your best to keep quiet and stay out of sight. I’ll check on you again tomorrow night.” He lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a soft kiss across the back of her fin
gers, his eyes never leaving hers. Nadja sucked in a shallow breath as she watched him, too stunned to move. A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Get some rest.”

  Pax released her hand and bent to retrieve his lantern. As he turned to leave, Nadia watched the yellow glow grow dimmer and dimmer before vanishing. She heard the click of the latch signaling Pax’s exit.

  With a hard exhale Nadja sank to the floor and shook her head, trying to order her thoughts.

  Three days ago Pax was embracing Laurel at the Heartstide Festival, and tonight he was following Nadja to Chansey, handing out ambiguous kisses along the way. Perhaps he was freer with his affections than she had thought.

  But that didn’t make sense. Pax was flirtatious, yes. Maybe he was just being affectionate, trying to soothe her nerves. He hadn’t kissed her on the mouth like he had Laurel.

  Not that any of that mattered, anyway. As soon as he found out what she was, he’d put as much distance between the two of them as possible. In fact, he may not even have to worry about doing that much. If her heritage became common knowledge, it was likely she’d be arrested, if not killed.

  Nadja curled up on her side, pulling her knees to her chest once more. The ramifications of what she was hit her like a blow to the brain. She knew what happened to the Mevocali all those years ago. Why would anything be different now? She remembered the woman she’d overheard in Morris’s shop. “There were good reasons they were eliminated in the first place, and Amrantir has been better for it . . .”

  Nadja thought about Helaine. She would have been better if not for Nadja. And Baulo. Well, she had stopped his attack on Kizzy, but she’d almost killed him in the process. And if it wasn’t for that, she would have never left the Wanderers in the first place.