B00CH3ARG0 EBOK by Christie Meierz

the gift
you display in such abundance, but they achieve a shadow of it with their
combined skill.”
    “I should like to hear that,” Thela said, a wistful note in
her voice.
    “It could be arranged,” the Sural murmured.
    Marianne’s eyes darted to his. He returned her shocked gaze
with an indecipherable expression, and then focused his attention on his meal.
She squinted at him, deciding that to pursue the subject in a public area would
get her nowhere. She’d see what she could get out of him later.
    * * *
    The sun was hanging low in the sky when ‘later’ arrived. Marianne
was draped across a gazebo bench, paging through poetry on her library tablet,
when the Sural finally entered the garden. He burst into view in front of her.
    “Why do you camouflage so much?” she asked.
    He lifted his eyebrows and grinned. “Prudence.”
    She snorted and sat up to make room for him. “So how did you
manage to acquire recordings of Earth music?”
    “From Admiral Howard’s ship.” His face was bland as he dropped
onto the bench beside her.
    “And the Alexander just gave you – how much – human
music? Willingly?”
    “Their entire archive, and no.”
    “You stole it?” she exclaimed, aghast.
    He raised his eyebrows, looking offended. “The Alexander and everything in it was forfeit the moment they violated my interdict. My
engineers copied their archives, and I allowed the crew to leave with their
ship intact.” He paused and cocked his head. “Would you have been pleased had I
destroyed it? I refrained out of respect for the innocents on board.”
    She deflated. “Like Laura.”
    “Yes, beloved.”
    “But that was tens of days ago. What took so long?”
    “Humans are very clever with information storage. It took
time for my engineers to decrypt the archives and develop algorithms to make
them compatible with our technology. However, now that the conversion is
complete, it is a simple task to access the music archive from your library
tablet.”
    Her delighted coo attracted the attention of the flutters.
    * * *
    The Sural’s audience room was crowded to capacity for Thela’s
concert that evening. Scientists, stronghold staff, and even ordinary city
inhabitants were among the crowd that filled the chamber. Only a small area in
front of the Sural’s dais was clear. In the middle of that area, facing the
Sural, was Thela.
    Her face glowed with elation.
    Marianne gave the girl a warm smile. A natural performer,
she thought, in love with being the center of attention. The Sural raised a hand,
and a hush settled over the audience. He nodded at Thela to begin.
    The first piece was complex and difficult, played without calling
upon her gift. Marianne’s attention drifted, although she appreciated the
technical ability Thela displayed. Next, the girl played an elegant but simple
piece, with the lightest touch of her gift to bring it alive. Demonstrating
subtlety?
    Beside her, the Sural was thrumming with pleasure.
    She was unprepared for what came next: a piece of virtuosic
complexity, with as much power as Thela was capable of bringing to it. Marianne
forgot where she was, unaware of herself or her surroundings, as the music wove
in her and through her and around her in a way that reminded her of bonding. The
music reached heights of joy and depths of despair that she wouldn’t have
believed a child so young could know. She was so transported that she was
barely aware when the piece ended.
    “Beloved.” The Sural’s gentle whisper brought her back to
the audience room. He smiled at her. “You were far away.”
    She wiped the tears streaming down her face and turned her
attention back to Thela, who was standing exhausted in front of them. Just as
the Sural was about to speak, the girl swayed and staggered. He sprang from the
dais to catch her before she could fall.
    “Take her to her quarters to rest,” he ordered a servant.
    * * *
    The Sural watched as a servant led the fatigued young Thela
away, her