Missing Elements (The Lament Book 3)

by P. S. Power

  There was a big gate, made of black iron and a stone wall that ran in a square around the whole thing. That made her shiver, which got the Bard next to her to stop.

  "I... Is something wrong?"

  There was, but it couldn't be helped. The Grange had a stone wall. To keep the children inside from escaping. Pran forced a fake smile and readjusted the grip on her lute case handle in her left hand.

  "The wall just reminded me of something, is all. Nothing big."

  Thankfully Clarice found that answer good enough and didn't make her explain her entire life. Not just then. The steps to the place were also made of stone, but were smooth on top, each one having been cut to fit perfectly. That gave way to a porch that was made of wood, but that lacked carvings. There was a small yard, with topiary in it, done up to look like small animals. Two on each side. The rest was short cut grass, all green and cheery. She imagined it would be, in the daylight. At the moment the shadows were kind of deep for that, but it wouldn't hurt to put a happy spin on things, if she were going to be around this place now and then.

  The inside was rich looking, in a way that Pran doubted she could have really explained. The floors were wood, but dark and polished. That looked to be a varnish that had been applied over the whole thing, she thought. There were some small rugs, but they were bright and colorful, if not matching. Even the walls were special, being covered with decorations and paintings.

  Waving for her to follow, the Bard gestured up a staircase that had a polished banister next to it.

  "Up this way. I'll let you settle your things. Do you need a nap, before dinner?"

  Pran shook her head, "I hope you mean to ask if I need to sleep before eating, not cooking. I don't know how to do that, so you might be disappointed in the results." It was just true. The twice a day porridge at the Grange had been made by one of the Keepers and children weren't allowed access to it. They got slices of bread along with it too. Most of the time. Unless someone stole it, of course. The Art School had cooks and servers, however, and a greater variety of things to eat. She'd never cooked it, since the students there were supposed to be learning, not doing free labor.

  Well, unless that was artistic in nature. Doing carvings and making decorations was always part of what the kids had done.

  Her words didn't get a laugh, and for a half second she wondered if she really was supposed to do the cooking. An Apprentice did what they were told and being asked to clean up at home, or do chores wasn't outside of that contract, as far as she knew. Even sleeping with her Master's husband was probably part of that. She thought. Really, she was a bit hazy on the idea of what they were allowed to be instructed to do. She'd always heard it was grueling labor without end, and had readied herself for that. Even the Guardians had spoken about doing the wash and being set directly to lessons or practice in their first hours. Maybe here she was supposed to get the food ready for real?

  Her brain was scrambling, going over everything she knew about cooking, when Clarice reached forward and patted her arm.

  "No, no... Not at all dear. Truly, if you do nothing but put in a day or two at the office each week, your duties there, and here, will be well filled. I do keep the best supplies there however, which you can use, as I mentioned earlier, if that's an incentive not to carouse too much about town in the evenings?"

  That little work, and going home at six in the evening? How did anything ever get done? True, most Bards did only play for a few hours a night at most, but the artists had to work longer hours, didn't they? Otherwise it would take forever to get anything done.

  Rather than question the woman, Pran followed, and was delivered to a room that was...

  Heaven. Most likely.

  There was a bed that was the biggest thing like it she'd ever seen, and soft when she walked over to touch it. It had four pillows on it, and a bright red and yellow blanket on the top that looked thick and warm. It also had a curtain all the way around it, held up by four big posts at each corner. That was so she could sleep during the day, she supposed, unbothered by the light through the window. There was a door to an adjoining chamber, but she didn't walk to it directly, setting her instrument cases on a rather nice chest that was made of blond wood. It was like the ones that she'd made herself, for The Lament, except twice as long. Two meters, at least. Shrugging her pack off, she glanced around, as Clarice looked at her. Nervously.

  "Is it enough? We could have one of the other rooms set up, if you'd rather. Yes, we'll do that. This is too far toward the back of the house. I... Honestly, I just wanted someone close to the radio right now. I should have realized..." That device, looking big and metal, with large knobs on it, was on a table, across the room. There was a cord that ran over to a window, and out of it. She couldn't tell more than that, but saw the place you were supposed to talk, and the wooden dials with marks etched into them.

  "This is great. I'll need a lesson on how to use that. It's secret technology, isn't it? Are you allowed to have one even?" Most weren't, but the High Council probably got clearance automatically.

  "Yes. It's licensed and everything, so you can have your Guardian friends over to spend the night, safely enough. We don't even have anything hidden in the basement, that I know of. If Kabrin does, he hasn't been sharing it with me, which is impolite, if it's the case. Why would he keep all the interesting things for himself? Now, do you need a nap, or anything else?"

  She thought about it, but decided that going to bed at a decent hour would be enough for her. She mumbled that out loud, wondering what the hours were there, day to day, but knew she'd probably find out soon enough. That night for instance.

  "I'm good. Should I play for your husband before dinner or after?" She shrugged, not knowing when they'd eat, but not wanting to get grease on her strings, if that was at all possible.

  For some reason that got a chuckle, but also a wave.

  "Before, I think. Would you like to do that now? It might be a bit until dinner, we normally don't eat for about an hour after we come home. The meal will last a few hours, and you mentioned wanting to keep to an early schedule?"

  That was the plan, so she grabbed her guitar and lute, and tried to think through what to play. If Kabrin was known for his instrumentals, he'd probably want to test her in that area. If not test, then at least assess her to make certain she wasn't going to need to be hidden away at parties. Really, it was probably all for the best, even if it was basically having two auditions for the same job. Clarice struck her as being really nice and kind about things like that, and might need to have another opinion from someone she trusted.

  Not that Pran wasn't good. There was a difference however between good enough to play in small places and being expert enough for the big stage. If nothing else having the man tell her his opinion would give her a sense of what kind of person he really was. Pran was all right, when it came to music, and knew it. If he hammered her with a bitter critique, then she'd know he was sort of evil. It had been pretty hard to tell, just based on what Bard Clarice had said.

  Chapter six

  Pran was set up in the front space, which, given the bardly nature of the people that owned the home, had a chair already set up for a player. The room was actually arranged for up to five players, with several rows of cushioned benches for an audience. What could she do except take the center position? It was where she belonged, if only in her own mind. Clarice came with her, but stepped out while she set up. Without waiting, she decided that getting a bit of practice wasn't a bad plan, so started in on the seven circles, on the lute.

  It wasn't the hardest piece to play in existence. It was just one of the top fifty or so, and was the most difficult thing that everyone had to learn to play at the Art School. It was needed for the final boards. Pran had nailed it when she played, about three months before, but that was only for a school test. Kabrin was a real musician, and might not be all that impressed with something that average. The thing there was that she didn't really know anything much harder. S
he could work some variations of the tune, but that was about all.

  She went through those, getting lost in the music, and then moved into some of the things she'd written herself. They were all too simple to impress anyone. They weren't bad or anything, but the lack of complexity suddenly seemed to make them hollow and flat. She played around with adding some variations, but nothing really worked very well. Feeling a bit disgusted with herself she moved to guitar and worked a few classical pieces. They were all things she'd translated to the instrument herself, for a class a few years before.

  The only positive thing there was that they seemed a bit too plain as well, which meant she was probably being too hard on herself. That was a problem that she always had. What was actually good enough never seemed that way to her, even when people said otherwise.

  The scent of food hit her as she looked up, about an hour later. There was no one in front of her, but a bit of noise got her to turn, to see not only Clarice, standing in the corner of the room, but a pleasant looking blond man, who had curly hair, and a dimpled chin. He was also a good fifteen years younger than Clarice, and while she was nicely made up and well dressed, he was one of those rare people that didn't really need that kind of thing. His green eyes sparkled as he gave her a look that was... annoyed.

  "Adequate, I suppose. How's your violin?" Without waiting to see if she could even play that instrument, he moved to a low and very long cabinet to his own right, and pulled out a long drawer which had an old looking, but well cared for piece of wonder in it.

  He rosined the bow, and tuned it without saying anything, then moved to hand it to her. He seemed shocked when she took it however, and started to play. It wasn't her best instrument, but neither was the guitar or lute. Her primary study had been the piano, but that wasn't a thing she could carry around with her. Even the thing in her hand was more complex than what was really practical to carry around with her, compared to what she had.

  The tone was good. Not perfect, but something in its making had left it resonant and mellow at the same time. The bow was tight enough, so she played a few things on it. The man frowned full on then, and sighed, then took the thing back from her, and moved to the chest, coming back with yet another instrument. At first she thought he'd present her with a tampan or a triangle, because neither one of them really took skill to play, but it was a clarinet instead.

  Shaking her head, she smiled.

  "Not unless you want your ears shattered. If you have a piano? I can do that..." She didn't see one in the room, but the man pointed, at the door, as Clarice stood there beaming at him.

  "Just down the hall. This way. Come along. Don't dawdle, I need to eat soon." Then he stomped out, Clarice moving with him, still grinning ear to ear. With a wink she waved and gestured at Pran to follow. She did, since that was the job. Apprentice meant you did what you were told. So far Clarice had even been really sweet about it all. Clark and Mara had put her to work standing watch in her first day as an Apprentice Guardian. It had been pretty hard too, since she needed to try and hold a meditative trance state while doing it. That reminded her to practice that too.

  The hallway wasn't one that she'd been down yet, and was huge for a thing like that. Easily ten feet across, and made of bare, but polished marble stone. The room she was lead to was a vast thing that was easily the largest place like it she'd ever been in. Even the school hadn't had a playing hall like it. On a stage, that was about three feet high, and a good seventy feet from the door, was the largest piano she'd ever seen. It had carvings on the feet and legs, and was a deep and polished brown all over. She knew that, because electric lights came on when Kabrin flipped a switch on the wall.

  She didn't run to it, but it was a close thing. Her heart started to pound in her chest, and she felt ever so slightly faint, just being in the same room with the thing. It reminded her a bit of seeing The Lament for the first time, except for a bit more impressive. Nothing in her life had prepared her to even see something like it.

  Here she was, clearly expected to go and play it.

  There was no bothering with stairs, because she didn't see any. That meant a bit of clambering up the front, but it wasn't that hard, and less than forty seconds later she was settled into place, her hands finding the right position instantly. No matter what it looked like, the keyboard was fairly standard. She started with some scales, so that the needed pressure wouldn't surprise her when she played. The sound from it was incredible. It sent goose bumps down her spine.

  She didn't know what to play first, so just looked at the written sheet music that was already there, and started with that. It wasn't a familiar thing, so there were some hiccups and false starts when she played. It was only four pages long, and spread out for sight reading already, which made it easier, but not perfect. When she got to the end, Pran switched pieces, or started too, playing one from memory.

  "No!" Kabrin actually shouted at her, and slapped the back of one of the stadium seating chairs. He was still standing, but Clarice sat, and was looking bemused, instead of shocked at the yelling. "The same piece. Again. Now." There was another banging noise, which had to make his fingers hurt.

  Shrugging she stopped and did it again, not doing it perfectly yet, until the fourth time she played it through.

  "Now, the piece you started before. Do it. Please." The man was more mellow suddenly, and she was starting to get the idea of what Bard Clarice had meant before, saying he could be mercurial. His emotions didn't just alter from time to time, but seemed to do so almost constantly.

  It didn't stop, and he didn't let her just play one piece having her do five different things, including a popular song that she knew that had a light and bouncy bridge to it. Then she had to do the thing in front of her again. That was easier now, since she'd gotten a bit of practice with it. The piece itself was a bit dry, but not too hard to play, once you knew what was coming.

  When the last note sounded, the man just stood there, not saying anything at all. Pran hated that. Clapping was good and booing let you know what people thought, but dead silence could mean anything at all. Did he hate it, and by extension, her? Was he formulating a way to ask her to leave his home, so that her lousy playing wouldn't taint his talent by getting into his ears? Was he suddenly really hungry and wanted his dinner, without delay?

  After nearly three minutes, he spoke, his voice less annoyed, but a bit snooty still.

  "We have a position. Second violin. If you work hard, I'll see about arranging a piano solo for you for the spring concert season. The pay is ten gold a month, and you're responsible for finding your own food and lodgings. If you would have come to the concert house, instead of invading my home, I would have let you contest with Bard Brettle for First violin, but you chose to be clever and get yourself let into my dwelling first. Not that I don't enjoy a bit of pluck, but that could be considered a little too much." He looked at his wife, and shrugged, speaking about Pran as if she weren't there. "The skill is there, but I want to see how he works in a group."

  Clarice nodded, "a good thought. She, however. This is Bard Pran. My new assistant. I just wanted to get your take on her playing. I thought it was good, but you do have a better ear for such things. You should hear her sing, too." She looked at him lovingly, which earned her a hug.

  The man laughed and clapped a bit then.

  "Your assistant? Marvelous. You've needed one for a long time. Perhaps in a few months we can take a winter vacation? After the holidays, of course. We can't miss being in the city for that."

  Then he walked forward, and finally spoke to Pran, directly.

  "Where have you played? I haven't heard of a Bard Pran, and if this wasn't your planned audition set, then I would have. Unless you were in the Eastern lands? They don't communicate that much with us here, musically speaking. They do some very nice drum work, however."

  Pran was about to explain the whole thing about being an Apprentice, even if Clarice was being truly kind and nice about things, but the woman he
rself broke in, not letting her speak.

  "She's been playing an Airship circuit of late. My mother found her and insisted that she was one of the finest talents of the new generation. What's more, her strength seems to lie in sculpting, if you can believe it. I can't wait to see what she comes up with. You're planning to do Judge Brown in clay, aren't you dear?" There was nothing in the pretty face to give away her act, or that she was being a little too generous with Pran, being it was her first day.

  "That's right. He's agreed to sit for me, for as long as it takes. I should have it ready for a first viewing in a week or so, if things aren't too hectic at the office." She looked at the man, who was staring a bit too hard at her, probably trying to see if she was really a girl, and explained. "Judge Brown was temporarily left with eye damage, so won't be back to work for a few months. Four or maybe more, though we aren't suppose to say that it will be more than three, to keep his mood up. Like he doesn't know? He's a Judge... But he has a wonderful face for clay. Interesting and distinctive. I'm thinking to do it life sized and if it's good enough, making a mold of it." Casting in bronze would be expensive however, but there were other things that she could try, with a bit of creativity.

  Kabrin spread his hands, clearly acting now, and took a few steps toward her.

  "Would you join us for dinner then? I do hate to seem greedy, or led by my stomach, but I failed to eat lunch, since I had to scream at people for nearly an hour earlier. You'd think it wouldn't be too much to ask for people not to come in hung over, but that's the life of a Director. If they aren't in their cups, they're coming in late, or getting my cellist pregnant. True, that was only the once, but it ruined her technique for nearly eighteen months."

  He started out of the room, which meant scrambling to keep up since Clarice went as well and Pran didn't know if she could find the food on her own. It was pretty clear that Kabrin didn't know she was supposed to be staying there. Hopefully that wouldn't be a big problem. It wasn't a thing that she'd ever thought of before, but it seemed that things like that should be communicated with a spouse, shouldn't it?