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The Kordolian ship hovered noiselessly, without sound or movement. She knew that a passerby looking up would see nothing; just the outline of the sky and the clouds.
Kordolian technology really was something else.
She looked down at the glistening pavement and felt a twinge of vertigo. “How are we going to get down?”
Allow me.He wrapped his arms around and lifted her as if she were as light as a feather. Then he stepped out into the open space.
They dropped.
Ashrael landed like a damn leopard, somehow using hiska’quito dampen the fall. Noa marveled at the simplicity of it. She knew how difficult that sort of thing really was, and even though she’d seen it time and time again, she couldn’t help but be astounded the way he wielded his innate energy.
For her, using theka’quiso often felt forced, but to Ashrael, it was as natural as breathing.
He set her down on her feet and led her toward a door painted a brilliant shade of glossy emerald green. It was delightfully quaint, brass door knocker and all.
To her surprise, Ashrael pushed it open with a softclick.
“They’re expecting us?”
I told you. I’ve arranged everything. This merchant understands discretion.
“I’m sure she does.” Noa had only met Caity Silvester once or twice, and only fleetingly, but from what she remembered, the tuner was a consummate professional, having worked on pianos in some of the world’s most prestigious concert halls.
She wondered if she should let go of her hesitation and go say hello. Her memories of Earth were bound up in pain and despair, but maybe it was time to move on from that and interact with the world again. After all, there were probably other humans out there with abilities similar to hers—just waiting to be discovered. Sooner or later, they would inevitably come to the Kordolians’ attention, and when that happened, she would have to become a guide and a teacher, the way Ash and Elgon had been to her.
They passed through a small hallway where the floor was adorned with an old geometric tile mosaic. They looked quite old—possibly from the Victorian era.
Ash brought her into a large room where large arched steel-framed windows overlooked the soft glow of light from neighboring buildings. The floorboards were made of wood; well-worn and carrying the faint scent of age.
Her attention was immediately caught by the three resplendent instruments in the center of the room.
Three pianos. Grands. One medium, one concert-sized, the other somewhere in-between.
All of them were old and fine. One was glossy black. The other two were made from deep, rich walnut.
It was the smallest one that drew her eye. Its body had a fantastic burr pattern; intricate golden and brown swirls that could only have been conceived by nature.
She desperately hoped it would be theone—that it would carry the rare tone she craved in a piano.
She looked up at Ash.
A faint smile curved his lips.
His long, dark hair was bound in a low ponytail. His obsidian eyes were soft—such a rare expression for him.
He wore a suit. A proper Earth-style suit. Expensive-looking, cut and tailored perfectly to fit his lean, powerful frame. It was charcoal grey and wouldn’t have been out of place on a famous celebrity, or an upmarket gangster.
Where did he evengetsuch a thing?
It didn’t matter. He was a snack; dapper, handsome, and surrounded by an aura of effortless power.
She was glad she’d dressed up a little. Her outfit consisted of blush-colored a-line dress with lace hems, a cream cardigan and silver ballet flats.
It almost felt like they were out on a date.
The smell of old wood—Earthy and comforting and familiar—filled her consciousness. These instruments were remnants of the past, from a time when her people still hadn’t conquered the night. When they’d feared it.
Now, humans feared the darkness that lay beyond the stars.
