Missing Elements (The Lament Book 3)

by P. S. Power

  It was a bit awkward then, since she got a hug from Clair, who seemed happy to hear about it, and a knowing look from Mara. Clark just nodded once, but smiled like he meant it.

  Then he cleared his throat.

  "The plan is to start a sculpture now? We should be about that, don't you think?"

  It was true, so she waved at the people being left behind, and started to walk toward the stairs, not saying much about anything until they got into the office on the third floor, a few minutes later.

  Clair turned and looked at Brown, uncertain, but Pran nodded.

  "I suspect that Tims the floor boy is one of the downloads. There are a few others around that we need to watch as well. This group here, plus High Councilors Saran and Clarice is our team for this, I think. So, who's going to see about getting in good with the floor boy?" She grinned, until everyone looked at her. It made sense being they were near the same age, or at least looked like it. Tims could have been a hundred, or even three hundred, years old really, but if Mara walked up to him and suggested they be friends, he'd probably panic and run away, suspecting a trap. Correctly.

  "Fine. Clair, will you find out if Doctor Millis will come and see me? Or... will he be at the wedding? That trick with the drugs that Tims used was his, I think. Done better this time. Poor Judge Tansy. She probably thought that all her skills were failing her under pressure."

  It was starting to get a bit hectic, but after that they compared notes and started to make a few plans, right until Pran suggested that she really did have some official work to do.

  Making a sculpture.

  For some reason everyone laughed at her then.

  Chapter ten

  Pran just worked for hours, not paying much attention to anyone at all, even if they were all there, talking about things. Clair finally left after Clarice came in, and at about two bells after noon she was asked by the High Bard to wash up. It was a bit weird, but lunch had come for all of them, and she was covered to the elbows with pale clay, made damp so that she could smooth the rough man sized form she'd created.

  It was rough still, but the basic shape was there. You could tell that it was going to be a man, and that he was in flowing robes. The face was unformed however, and the hair would take a while to get right. Brown had stood next to the thing for her a few times, and helped her move the table from the center of the room, ending up in front of the secret door near the back. Not that she wanted to block the thing from use, it was just the best place to put it and if she didn't know it was there, what she'd have done.

  She washed in the sink though, hunger suddenly pressing on her middle more than a little. It hadn't been that intense when she worked, but once she came up for air, it was all she could think about for a few minutes. She ate in silence, the plate having a delicate pastry that had meat inside it. It was a roast fowl, she thought, and a bit greasy, but it wasn't bad, given that. Tender and juicy, with lots of vegetables in the mix. On the side of the plate was a pile of sliced and boiled potatoes with butter on the top, melting down the side in a clear stream of delicious salt and spices.

  There were cooked carrots as well, which made the whole thing a bit more starchy than she would have thought people ate most of the time, but it was good. At least as nice as the food from the day before.

  No one spoke of anything all that telling or important, so when she spoke, Pran pointed over at Clarice's desk, where the note from earlier was set.

  "The Great Bard Marin Lester came by earlier, looking for someone to give him some introductions here in the city. I don't know anyone, but said that I'd let you know and beg you to set him up with auditions, if anything came up. I hope that's all right? I don't know if he can play or act, but he presented himself as interesting enough." She wanted to shrug, but controlled that and ate for a bit while Clarice smiled and looked away.

  "Ah! Marin's back in town? Wonderful. I know exactly who to set him up with as well." She nibbled at her own plate, slowly, taking her time to savor every bite she took. Everyone here seemed to do that. Really, almost everyone did that, and had even at school. It was just that she simply ate, and then had always gone to work on things, rather than socialize for hours on end like everyone else. It had always been a thing with her. Ten minutes into the meal, she was done, and that was only when she ate slowly.

  Looking at her plate she shook her head, which got Clarice to smile.

  "Is your meal warm enough? You made a face."

  "Oh... It's wonderful. I was just noticing how slow everyone is with their meals. I..." She wasn't going to mention it at first, but finally shrugged. Brown didn't know her story, as far as she knew, and neither did her new... Well, if the High Bard was serious, she wasn't her master, was she? Her boss, at the very least.

  She waited for a bit then just decided to open her mouth and say it.

  "I... When I was in the Grange, before art school, if you ate too slow someone would steal your food, and you didn't get to eat. Even now I can't help but bolt my food. Even here, I keep expecting Brown to jump up and start hitting me while the rest of you take my plate." She smiled, not meaning it totally. Pran had to though. Otherwise her past might have overwhelmed her. For the most part she tried not to think about it.

  It was how she got through her life. That part of it didn't count. It was the past and had to stay there, so that she could survive in the here and now.

  Mara nodded, but Clark pretended not to understand, even though all Guardians would have gotten the idea. Clarice looked... Stricken.

  "I wasn't aware... You grew up in the Grange?"

  Sighing, Pran nodded. "Yep. Pran Grange, all my life. Before you ask it's worse than you probably heard. If I ever get a chance, I'll have it shut down and... I don't know. I guess no one does, which is why they collect up the children of the insane and put them in a single place like that. The regular kids are... Well, none of us really are, in the end, are we? Years of abuse and rape, fighting to survive every day. It's like a war from an old story." Her mouth shut then, since no one was going to want to hear her. Clarice even looked away from her, and so did Brown.

  At first she thought they were embarrassed for her, growing up being so poor. Maybe they thought that she was insane, because her mother, or father, had been? Probably mother, since there had been no one willing to take care of her, other than the government, at that age. She'd seen other kids go on about how they had real parents, and that they might come and get them, someday, but she never had. No, if anyone in the world had loved then, they wouldn't have been there at all.

  It surprised her then when Brown spoke.

  "We need to shut that place down. We bring it up, the Judges do, each year at the grand Council, but like you said Pran, no one knows what else to do about it. If we could help those children... We failed them. All of them, over and over. The problem always come down to that one thing. No one knows what else to do about it. So many of them are so damaged that there's simply no way to help them." There was a finality to the words, but Clarice looked at the man, coldly.

  "Isn't there though? If they were given love and not raised to be animals, perhaps they-" She stopped, her eyes going wide as she looked at Pran. "I didn't mean..."

  "That I'm an animal too? Aren't I?" She winked at the woman and took a few more bites of her lunch, not really tasting it anymore. That was her fault, for bringing up her past. That never went well.

  Everyone looked at her, but no one spoke waiting for her to do it, because that was fair.

  "You know... When I was nine, the day before the man came and took me away to art school, there was this boy. I guess he must have been thirteen. I didn't know, but he was big. Mean, too. A lot of the boys would, um, you know use the younger kids. For sex? Wald though, he... He liked to kill the girls that he used. He'd do it... Uh... in their behinds? To make them scream, and if they weren't quiet he'd choke them to death. He flat told me the day before that he was going to fuck my ass and kill me... So I killed him first. I stabbe
d him in the throat with a piece of wood that I'd sharpened. It was in self defense, but I knew that if the Keepers found out, they'd lock me away in the dark place, and starve me to death. So I hid it. When the man came for me, with the wagon... I thought he was taking me to die." It was dangerous, admitting that, but the words just came out.

  It was all in a rush, without art. Without style or purpose as far as she could see. Mara gave her a hard look, but Brown cleared his throat, which sounded thick, like he was fighting tears.

  "True. Have you killed anyone since then?" The words were nearly whispered, but she nodded, making him wince.

  Until she spoke about it.

  "Those people from the past? The downloads. To protect The Lament?"

  Clark looked at the Judge, his own eyes harder than she'd seen them in a while. When he spoke, his voice was rough.

  "Acting as a Guardian, with government sanction. It was a correct use of force. Backed by every Guardian that was there. I can get them for you, if you insist on a trial." There was a chill to the room then, but it lightened when the man shook his head.

  "No need. There wouldn't be anyway. A threat of death in a situation like that would make a lethal response legal, even if Pran could have fled at the time. The Lament couldn't be abandoned."

  That, it seemed was the end of the discussion, so she finished her food, and started collecting up the plates from the ones that were done.

  "I should get back to work then. I need to get the face roughed out today. We'll do the first real sitting tomorrow, in the morning, so don't be too late, Judge Brown. I have that wedding to perform at in the afternoon. I need to go over the set tonight and practice it. Plus... an outfit for that." She didn't want to ask about that, but Clarice nodded, somberly.

  "We can take care of that later, at home. I have a lovely gown that will work for it. A matching hat too." It was clear that she really didn't like the very short hair that Pran had going on at the moment. It would grow, but if she said that there would be a hat worn, well, then there would.

  Then, as if nothing had happened, she got up and went back to work in the other room. No one came in for a long time and when that happened it wasn't Brown, but Mara. Which wasn't the person she needed at the moment. Not that she needed anyone for what she was doing. A nose was going to be roughly in the same place, regardless of whose face she was sculpting. The same was true of the eyes and mouth. At least she could get it close enough for it to work that way.

  The woman in black just stood there, watching her for a long time. When she spoke, it wasn't about the Grange though, or Pran's past.

  "We need to get back to work, on your physical skills. I notice that you're armed, which is a good idea."

  Pran nodded, not having forgotten that she hadn't given the sap back to Salle. It wasn't theft really, but she'd need to give it back the next day, if not later in that one.

  "I need something better. I could... spare an hour or two, if I got up early enough. Or maybe do it before bed? I don't know if I'll have time tonight, but I'll try. Are you and Clark going to come home with Clarice and I?"

  That got a shrug, so Pran called out, walking to the open door.

  "Clarice? Clark and Mara need to come home with us, so they can guard you at night. Maybe someone else too. Tuvin maybe? He can sleep in front of your door, to keep you safe while the others rest." She grinned, making it a joke, but Clarice seemed fine with the basic plan.

  "Certainly. It will make me seem important, if nothing else. We have spare rooms for each of you. This Tubin as well."

  Pran smiled. "Tuvin. He's the High Guardian's Apprentice. Clark will see about setting that up? Or I can, if you want." She held up her clay covered hands though, which were going to start to dry if she didn't get back to work soon. Pran hated that feeling, and really wanted to avoid it, if it was at all possible.

  Both of the Guardian's looked like the idea was a real one however, not an excuse for the large and scarred man to go and report what they'd learned earlier to the head of his order. The names of the people that she thought might well be from the past, in stolen bodies.

  Clark grinned, a large thing that looked a bit silly.

  "I'll see to that. Are you certain you want Tuvin? He's a bit young, don't you think?"

  Like she wasn't, which was the secret point to the words, she didn't doubt. Part of the rather useless act they were putting on, making it seem like they were downloads.

  "Part of the plan. He's still young enough his back won't scream too much from sleeping on the floor. I'd insist on a real guard, except that I don't think there's real danger to all of this. It's more of a training exercise for him and an excuse for the rest of us to make friends with Clarice and Kabrin. It never hurts to know people, after all. Plus, there's Doctor Soros there, who's another person that you should get to know." She didn't say why, and Clarice didn't insist on an answer to that either.

  Then she was nodded at, and allowed to get back to work, for several hours, getting more done than she would have thought. At about six, Bard Clarice came in to look at what she'd gotten done so far, and Pran stepped back. It looked all right.

  Clarice clapped.

  "Truly incredible, Bard Pran. I never once managed anything that fine in clay, and it's a hobby of mine. How long do you think it will take you to finish it?"

  That... Would depend on a lot of things, but she thought about it then tilted her head back and forth.

  "Five or six more work days like this one? Maybe more. I want to texture the cloth and hair, as well as the skin, and that takes time to do right. I should have a rough likeness ready in three days though. More or less." That was fast, but the work would be counted in hours spent, not the days she split them up into. If she didn't sleep she could probably get done in the next twenty-four hours. There were other things to see to, however.

  Like dinner, and washing up before she was seen in public. Looking down at her front there was pale clay on her rolled up sleeves and on the front of her black shirt, which meant doing laundry that evening too. She only owned two shirts and if one was dirty, that meant sleeping in the other, or going nude. That wasn't a thing she'd ever been comfortable with, since you never knew when you might need to get up in the middle of the night.

  The trip home that night was the same as the one before, except with a larger group. When they got into the house, there was no one around, except for the unseen servants, so Pran didn't have to socialize directly and washed again, then used the sink in her bathroom to scrub her clothing up quickly, since it was only the one outfit. She hung them to dry over the tub, and was dressed identically when she moved to the front playing room to go over what she needed for the next day. She even practiced setting up, and decided against doing a full introduction, since people at a party wanted to listen to soft things as a backdrop, not be distracted with constant talking from her.

  It wasn't quite enough time, but Kabrin came in and waited for her to finish a slightly variant version of Bard Tam's Lullaby In Green, before speaking.

  "You should watch your tempo on the second mark. It will sound better if you do it slightly faster." Then he let her play that part again, twice, making other corrections before remembering to call her to dinner.

  As they walked to the dining room, he spoke gently.

  "You truly do have a remarkable talent. Are you certain I couldn't lure you away from Clarice for a life in the orchestra, it's really very rewarding. There's a kind of magic that takes place when two, or more, people work together as a single unit. Thrusting and meeting, at just the right time..." It wasn't clumsily said really, just too much too soon.

  She nodded, her face blank as they walked, "Clarice mentioned that you'd try to get me into bed. That bothers her you know, so you should at least try to... I don't know, hide it better? Not that you aren't good looking, but bribing me with a place in an orchestra is a bit much really, don't you believe? Or, I guess not. Does that line ever really work for you?"

 
Rather than get mad, the good looking man brushed at his curly blonde hair and snorted.

  "More often than not. With you, however, the plan was the other way around. You get me? I offer my tender flesh in return for you deigning to join my humble assortment of players. Not that we are. Humble that is. In neither word nor talent. I'll take your words as an advisement however. Clarice has hinted at being uncomfortable with my actions before, but she's never really said much when I simply asked about it. I do think that I'm getting old enough to settle down a bit. How about you, Pran?" It was an odd thing to say, but the man kept looking at her, like it was a real question.

  "Me settling down? I'm sixteen, so... I think I get a few years." Not that she knew her real age, but that was probably pretty close. Within a year, one way or the other, certainly.

  "That young? I thought you were at least twenty! Well, don't I look like a letch now!" He laughed about it, since everyone in the room was watching them walk in, already being at the table.

  It was Clarice, Doctor Soros, and to her surprise, Doctor Millis, from The Lament. She smiled when she saw him.

  "There you are! I was going to hunt you down tomorrow at Paul's wedding party. I noticed your work earlier today. With Tims?" She didn't explain it all, and the old gentleman smiled at her, his wrinkled face seeming to be genuinely pleased about her being there.

  "Pran! I didn't know that you'd be here tonight. So, you noticed that bit, earlier, did you? I suppose that the boy is in a cell right now? I hadn't heard from him, but I wouldn't have, being that he has his own duties." If he was nervous about the idea, it didn't show in his body language or expression, which just seemed warm and kind.

  Doctor Soros went wide eyed however, and seemed to be digging something out from under his suit jacket. That got waved away by Millis.