“Judge, I’ve got a delivery!” Aaros shouted. “She’s loud, complex, a bit curvy—” A slap rang out, followed by a string of pained curses. “Obviously I mean the violin.”
Violin? Daron immediately retreated, securing the greenhouse doors behind him. Down the hall, Aaros occupied the entryway, dragging in oddly shaped cases. Kallia traipsed in with a few more, nodding to Daron.
Aaros blew out a whistle while taking in his surroundings. “So this is your new love nest?”
Kallia delivered another slap to the back of his head before Daron could even scowl. “Pretty, strong boys should be seen, not heard,” she hissed. “And be careful. Canary will murder me if these do not return to her safely.”
“Would she breathe fire in your face or go a more discreet route?”
“I’m not as fascinated as you are to find out.” Deadpan, she gestured firmly toward the common area.
“Bossy, boss.” Aaros was quick to understand, gathering up the cases. Not before shooting a look of pity at Daron. “I don’t envy you today. Or your poor feet.”
Grimacing, Daron turned to Kallia. “What’s this?”
“Aren’t you proud?” She called over her shoulder, lugging cases in the direction her assistant had gone. “Didn’t even have to use magic. Pick up the last, will you?”
The dread piled higher in Daron as he took the case by its handle. It could’ve been any old container, but its weight gave up the secret: a solid, wooden instrument.
“I said no dancing.”
“You never said I couldn’t.” She laughed from the other room. “Relax, Demarco. I just like having a bit of music playing in the background while I work. It’ll make this place feel a little less grim, don’t you think?”
Aaros unlatched the last of the cases. “Don’t be fooled.” He capped Daron on the shoulder, leaning in on a whisper. “At first, it’s a little mood music. Before you know it, she’ll have you flying across the floor with her.”
The idea could not have sounded more unappealing. “Don’t count on it.”
“Stop scaring him with your exaggerations.” Kallia continued gently positioning each instrument on the floor. “And leave while I’m still too blissfully distracted to wring your neck.”
“Love you, too, boss.” He winked at them on his way out. “Behave, children.”
The soft click of the doors closing set Daron on edge. Kallia had not budged, fixated on the array of instruments laid out before her. “You’ll be using them right now?”
“Don’t worry about magic. They’re charmed,” she answered readily. “Any beholder can play them, any magician can manipulate them. Cheaper that way, but they still hold a tune. Apparently these beauties can absorb each song that’s been played and play it back at the snap of—”
Daron snapped his fingers and jerked back as the instruments erupted in harsh, discordant howling.
“How dare you snap first!” Kallia shouted over the clamor bleeding into the air.
“Seriously?” He cringed sheepishly. “I wouldn’t exactly call this music.”
With an exasperated curse, she snapped her fingers twice.
The hellish chorus ceased.
“That’s because these instruments were born to different masters, passed down to all kinds of musicians. They sing their own songs first until slowly coming together,” she said, a little too defensively. “You know, it would be easier if I infused them with my memories.”
“Easier?” Memory magic was no simple feat, but she spoke of it as easily as brushing hair. And she thought he was a harsh mentor. Her teacher before must’ve been stricter than a war general in the field. “Memories take a lot of mind power. You sure you want to squander it for a few songs?”
He might as well have told her to never eat food again from how she balked. “I swear, it’ll be fine. In fact, I haven’t used it in days! Not to the extent I used to, anyway.”
That, Daron could believe. She moved differently, lighter on her feet. Sometimes she’d even twirl from one room to the next when she thought he wasn’t looking. He couldn’t deny he’d enjoyed the same lightness after he retired. Without magic, his mind had grown less clouded, the life in him less restless. His sleep deeper without the endless worry of what impossible things he could achieve next.
In all honesty, it hadn’t been too terrible of a life to ease into, having the world at your fingertips one second, and all too soon, nothing. The opposite proved far more difficult: the world shoved back in your hands without warning, the fear that it could happen at any moment. Power driving into him like a knife he