by Zen DiPietro
He nodded and held his hands up in surrender. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ll call now.”
The guy must be rich to be able to afford their performance and a local call from a doctor besides. He didn’t seem perturbed by the outlay.
Élan stayed with Night in the tent that had been arranged for them. Apparently Night had insisted on that detail when he’d accepted the gig. While they waited for the doctor, they arranged their instruments and tuned them. They’d begun to discuss what songs to perform when a voice called into the tent.
“Um, hello?”
Élan unzipped the flap and poked her head out. “Yes?”
It was their host, Jonas. “Can I come in for a minute?”
“Sure.” She moved back into the smallish tent and he followed.
“I just wanted to let you know that the doctor said he’d be here in about a half hour.” Jonas glanced around at their instruments. “Will you be okay to play after he takes care of your wound?”
“Of course,” Night answered.
“Okay. Good.” Jonas rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry you were attacked because of my party. If I’d known it would be dangerous I wouldn’t have had it out here.”
He seemed genuine, and Élan thought that this guy might not be the boor she’d been expecting.
Élan had been to too many gigs hosted by young men with more money than brains. They had a tendency to think that etiquette somehow didn’t apply to them. Instead, they showed off for their friends, trying to prove how awesome they were by treating bards like hired help. Although bards did get paid for performing, they demanded respect and honorable treatment above all.
Élan might have prejudged Jonas based on her past experiences. He didn’t seem to be any of the things she’d expected, and she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she assured him. “You aren’t responsible for what some criminal decides to do. We’ll be fine as soon as Night’s all fixed up.”
Jonas’ shoulders eased. “That’s kind of you. Thank you.” He studied her carefully and Élan felt herself tense. Did he recognize her?
“Is there anything I can get for either of you while you wait?” he asked.
“Do you have bourbon?” Night asked.
“Probably, yeah. We set up a little bar area. I’ll go check.” His gaze flicked to Élan. “Anything for you?”
“I’d love some hot tea if you have it.” She didn’t usually eat right before a performance, but she tended to be ravenously hungry after the gig was over. She found tea to be soothing for her throat before she did a lot of singing.
“I’ll do my best,” Jonas promised and left the tent.
“Feeling okay?” Élan asked Night once Jonas had left.
“Don’t fuss. I’m fine.”
She knew he probably was, but there was always the chance that there’d been a debilitating agent on the blade of that sword. He didn’t show signs of anything but annoyance, though, and she was glad for it.
Jonas brought their drinks back personally, which Élan appreciated. It was his party and he could have sent someone else to deliver them while he enjoyed himself. While she sipped her tea and discussed the set list with Night, the doctor arrived.
The middle-aged man smiled as he stepped into the tent. “Hello, I’m Dr. Knoll. I understand we have a laceration to take care of?”
Knoll was efficient. In short order, he had Night lying down with his shirt open. The doctor removed the antiseptic patch and took a good look at the wound. Then he put his palm on Night’s chest and his features became intense.
Nice, Élan thought. Jonas got us a manahi. That guy’s not bad. Their host certainly had not been obligated to hire a manahi doctor, who were relatively rare and unlikely to make a trip for such a minor wound.
Since Night was among the majority of people with no ability to sense or use mana, he saw nothing of the skill that Élan observed. She sensed the doctor harnessing the natural mana in the area into himself, focusing it, and finally using the energy to repair Night’s broken skin. The edges of flesh merged, sealed, and disappeared to reveal healthy, unblemished skin.
Such a simple wound took only moments to heal. The doctor excused himself to speak with Jonas. With Night healed, they were ready to perform. Élan followed Night out of the tent.
The gathering consisted of only fifty people or so, which made it a somewhat intimate setting. Élan and Night set up their audio equipment in the designated area and sat down to play. Because their voices fit together so well, most of their songs were duets, with her mandolin and his guitar to accompany.
They ran through a range of moods and styles to avoid audience ennui. They sang a tavern song followed by a call-and-response tune, then quieted the mood with an epic about a stalwart shiv. They finished out the first set with a stirring love ballad, then took a break. This was their halfway point and they retired to their tent to refresh their voices and rest their hands.
After the intermission, they returned and did a five-song set, then took their bows. The audience had been rapt and respectful throughout and gave them an enthusiastic round of applause. In spite of their reason for being there, Élan felt happy. She always enjoyed performing with Night. He had an exceptional talent for vocal phrasing and perfect rhythm, and she loved the synergy between them. They had an instinctive musical rapport that she didn’t share with anyone else.
Jonas asked if they’d remain at the party as guests and of course that was exactly what Élan wanted. So far, she hadn’t noticed any particular reaction among the guests to her presence. If she was lucky, it would stay that way, and she’d only need to get Jonas on her side. She needed some time to gain his confidence, without people crowding her or bombarding her with questions. If she got even luckier, maybe she could even get out of here without exposing herself to the world. Who knows, maybe these fancy young people were too well-bred to care about someone who used to be famous. Surely they already knew people who were far more impressive and influential. Everyone here was part of the elite group of privileged people who would likely recognize Night as an important figure in the music industry, yet no one had made a fuss over him either.
Night had told her that during his first meeting with Jonas, he’d said that his friends had offered him a “sparkling” time at his birthday party. Later, a friend of Jonas had been more overt in bragging about sparkle. So far, Night hadn’t spotted the guy but she knew he was on the lookout. This entire endeavor could turn out to be pointless if the friend didn’t show.
She accepted a cup of apple juice from the man pouring drinks at the makeshift bar. She wouldn’t have minded something stronger but she had investigating to do, while pretending she wasn’t doing it. She needed to keep her senses sharp.
Night chatted with a pretty girl. Élan took a sip of her juice and stepped away from the bar. She was about to go in search of Jonas when he stepped around a few people, holding a pair of champagne flutes. She eyed the bubbly beverage enviously.
“There you are. I was wondering if you had a moment to talk.” He noticed the glass in her hand, frowned at the second flute he held, then set it down on a nearby table. He gave her an awkward shrug.
“Sure. It’s your party.” She indicated the gathering with a rotation of her hand.
“Take a walk with me?”
She frowned, glancing out to the trees around them.
“It’s safe. When I heard about the trouble you’d had, I called some friends to make sure no one came to bother us. We’re secure. And we won’t go far.”
She was pretty sure his “friends” were blades. Quite a few of them, judging by his certainty. “All right then.”
They walked for a couple minutes before Jonas asked the question she’d been waiting for all night. He hesitated before saying, “You’re Élan Gray, aren’t you? Night didn’t give me your name but when I saw you, you seemed familiar. I had to think about it for a while.
When I heard you sing, I knew for sure.”
She tried not to flinch. She’d come here to be recognized, after all. Nonetheless she felt exposed. She’d just destroyed years of careful anonymity. She could only hope it turned out to be worth it.
“I am.” She said nothing else.
“Where did you go?”
She smiled. He seemed relaxed and simply curious, rather than starstruck. “Nowhere. I just stayed out of the public eye.”
“Hm.” He was silent for several long moments. Then he stopped walking and studied her. “You hated being known, didn’t you?”
She stopped too, facing him. “What makes you think that?”
“I’m somewhat known too. Because of my family, our company, and the money that comes with all that. I know I’d like to meet people and not see them already judging me. Thinking they know me. Assuming I must be a superficial jerk. It got old a long time ago.”
That stung. She’d had her own preconceived notions of him, though he’d proven to be nothing but thoughtful and obliging.
He frowned at her silence. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“No, you didn’t.” She met his eyes. “Actually, I was surprised by how accurate you were. It seems we have something in common.”
He grinned and blew out a relieved breath. She realized Jonas was the kind of guy who would be a terrible liar. His face showed everything he felt. She also noticed that he was a good-looking guy. He had sandy light-brown hair and kind blue eyes. She’d been too busy to notice before. Or maybe it was his understanding of her that made him more attractive.
“Have you decided to go public?” he asked.
That was a good question, actually. She didn’t want to go public, but coming here had practically assured it. At least, she’d thought so, up to this point. Reaction to her had been nothing like she’d anticipated. “I’m not sure. I don’t think it’s up to me at this point.”
He nodded as if that made sense, and when she said no more, he filled the silence. “I loved your set. The two of you were amazing together.”
“Thank you. Night is one of my favorite bards to perform with.”
“He’s great. Everyone wants him at their events. I was really surprised when he agreed to this.”
“So he’s famous? I’ll have to ask for an autograph.”
He laughed and she joined him. He didn’t seem to care that she’d been famous, which was a relief. Before she’d gone off the grid, she’d been constantly harassed by people for autographs, favors, and money. They pawed at her, touched her, followed her into the bathroom. They seemed to think that because they connected to her song, they shared a personal connection with her as well. It had been a daily assault that never ended. She’d been accustomed to being treated with respect, as per proper etiquette. The rabid fandom had shocked and scared her.
Jonas was nothing like that. Her former fame seemed like a footnote or trivia fact to him. She’d had a lot of years to learn how to tell a clingy flatterer or a user from a genuine person. Jonas was the real thing. She found herself relaxing.
“Is Nightfall his first or last name? Or just a stage name?”
Élan smiled. She did know Night’s full name. She was the only bard who did, but she was sworn to secrecy. “Nightfall is the only name he uses.”
“Ah. You know him well?”
“Very.”
“Are you and he . . . ?” He held out his hand, palm-up, letting the question dangle in the air.
“Romantically involved? Nope. That would never work.” She chuckled at the thought.
“I see. Well, in that case, could I ask you out sometime? I promise not to tell anyone about your secret identity.” His grin was both sincere and boyishly charming.
Élan laughed in surprise. “You could ask. I would answer.”
“With an affirmative or a negative?”
“Would depend on what you were offering. I can’t promise anything.” Her tone was light, but she really couldn’t imagine dating a non-bard. Her life had become so entrenched in the hidden underside of the bardic world. She really should have just told him she wasn’t available, but something stopped her. He was too likeable to shoot down.
“In that case, I’ll think on it and see what I can come up with.”
She was busy these days anyway, so it was unlikely she’d be able to do anything with him even if he made an offer that appealed to her. But she could enjoy his company tonight, even though she still had work to do. Which she needed to get to, before she missed her opportunity.
“So you have food and drink and music. What other party treats does Jonas . . . wait, what’s your last name?”
“Trak.”
Oh. Details clicked into place in her mind. “As in, Trak Engineering?”
“That’s the one.”
Now she understood. Trak Engineering was a highly respected firm. They were the Council of Magistrates’ go-to company for any civil project, be it city planning, monorail design, or security systems. His being part of that family was a big deal.
She didn’t comment on her new insight. “Okay then, what else does a Jonas Trak party offer?”
“Fun people, I hope. Good ones. I try to weed out the jerks. If anyone bothers you let me know, but I don’t think anyone here will be too wound up about your former fame.”
“We can hope.” His answer hadn’t helped her segue into what she was really after. She decided to try the direct approach.
“Night told me that you’d mentioned something about an item called sparkle. I hear it’s supposed to be like gigglemint, but better.”
Jonas shifted. “I did allude to it . . . why do you ask?”
She needed to tread carefully. “I’ve heard about it. I’m curious.”
“Are you hoping to try it?”
If she said yes, and he had some, that might be the quickest route to tracking it down. But then she’d have to fabricate a reason not to use the stuff. She decided to go off the rails and be honest again. It had worked okay so far.
“No. Wine is as far as I go. Like I said, I’m just curious.”
He rubbed his hands together slowly. He seemed to be considering his response. “I didn’t think Nightfall would perform for my party, so I mentioned that he might find some of my friends interesting. My friend Kett has tried sparkle. He said he’d bring some to the party but he didn’t show up.”
“So you haven’t tried it?”
“Inhale some strange substance when I don’t know what it is? No thanks. I like waking up every day and breathing. At best, something like that probably kills brain cells. At worst, maybe it kills the whole brain. Not my thing.”
He had no idea how right he was. “But Kett’s into it?” she asked.
Jonas grimaced. “I didn’t mean to say that, exactly. Kett’s a free spirit. His parents and mine are the engineers that started the firm. Best friends and business partners, you know? So he and I grew up together like brothers. I’m an engineer too but he’s never been interested in it. He went a different way entirely, with scholarly pursuits. History, literature, that sort of thing. He loves a good debate about scholarly minutiae. He’s kind of . . . experimental when it comes to the human mind and altered ways of thinking.”
“And you disapprove.”
“It isn’t my place to approve or disapprove. That stuff just isn’t my thing. I just think it’s a shame Kett didn’t channel his intelligence into a more productive career.”
“That’s a pretty frank assessment, considering you just met me.” Élan hadn’t expected him to be so forthcoming.
“You shared your secrets, so I felt like it might even us out a little.”
Not really. But she wouldn’t disabuse him of the notion. She decided to let the subject drop, since there was no way to inquire further about Kett and the sparkle without seeming suspiciously interested. She had enough information to track the guy down.
She gave Jonas a smile. “Happy birthday, by the way.”
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br /> “Thanks. It’s been a good one so far.”
She looked toward Night, who sat talking with a group of several people. “I should let you get back to your guests.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s your party.”
“Right. I should be fulfilling host duties, and all that. Seems I’m shirking.”
She’d meant so he could have fun with his friends, but it said something about him that he’d assumed she meant responsibility rather than recreation.
“I’m sure you’re allowed to shirk at your own birthday party.”
“So I don’t have to get back to my guests? Because I’m not that keen on it.”
He was honest, and kind of funny. She liked him. She felt a little bad about crashing his party for ulterior motives. And for assuming he’d be a rich jerk.
“Well, you probably should. But for fun, not as a duty.”
“Are you leaving, then?”
She shot another look at Night. This time, he caught it and stood.
“Yes, I think we probably will.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, but can I have your comm details so I can send you a message?”
She hesitated. She didn’t give her details out freely.
“You have my word that I won’t share the info, or let anyone know I have it. I don’t plan to mention to anyone I even met you. I’ll ask everyone here to keep it to themselves, as well.”
She had the sense she could trust him, and she might want to ask him more questions at another time. Maybe she’d accept his offer of a date. She used her hand comm to exchange details with his device, then he walked with her to Night.
“I transferred your fee, along with a tip to compensate you for your trouble in getting here,” Jonas told Night.
Night simply nodded. Tipping a bard was an excellent way to increase one’s chances of scheduling a future performance.
“Thank you both. You were wonderful. It was great to see you again, Nightfall. Élan, I’m very glad we met. These two will escort you back.” He waved to two brawny fellows who’d been stalking the fringes of the gathering all evening. They immediately changed direction to answer the summons.