Or an almost anticlimax. The only thing chat was jarringly wrong in all this quiet was the way Lydia, Eliathanis and even Tich’ki still radiated uneasiness every time they glanced Naitachal’s way.
I Can’t let that go on. If Carlotta does attack us again, we had better be able to present a united front, or she’s going to destroy us!
But Kevin admitted reluctantly that he just didn’t know what to do about it.
Sitting by the campfire that night, the bardling sighed, overwhelmed by a surge of guilt that had nothing to do with their quest: what with all the excitement of the past few days, he had pretty much forgotten about his music. Now, imagining Master Aidan’s reproachful stare for his neglect, Kevin took out his lute and tuned it, gently since it hadn’t been played for a while, then tried a few practice scales.
Ugh. His fingers were stiff. But as he kept after them, they finally limbered up and remembered what they were supposed to be doing. Kevin ran through his scales, from the simplest to the most complex and back again several times, till he heard Lydia give a not so subtle yawn. With a grin, the bardling switched over instead to a cheerful little springtime song common to almost all the human lands, “The Maiden’s Garland.”
As he played, Kevin felt eyes on him—He glanced up and caught Naitachal in the ace of staring at the lute. The slanted blue eyes were, for the moment, unguarded, so full of yearning that a pang of pity shot through the bardling. He remembered Naitachal admitting that the Dark Elves had no music of their own.
What a horrible thing! What a horrible, lonely thing!
Naitachal suddenly realized Kevin had noticed him, and turned sharply away, pretending to be fixing some bit of his gear—
“Oh no, you don’t,” the bardling murmured, and scrambled over to sit beside the Dark Elf. Moved by an impulse he didn’t quite understand, Kevin held out the lute. “Here. Take it.”
“I—I can’t. I mean, I wouldn’t know how ...”
“I’ll show you. Take it.”
Naitachal took the lute as gingerly as though it was a baby. Kevin sighed.
“Not like that. It’s not that fragile, honest. You hold it like this, here, and here. Right! Now, give it back to me for a minute and I’ll show you something. This is how you get single notes.” He strummed a single string, running his finger up from fret to fret. “See? The pitch gets lower the further my finger gets from the body of the lute. You try it.”
Warily, Naitachal touched a string. When it twanged, he almost dropped the lute in shock, then gave a rueful grin at his own reaction. But then, to Kevin’s surprise, the Dark Elf ran up and down through the notes without missing a one.
“You have a good ear! Now, shall we try a chord or two?”
Naitachal shrugged uneasily. “Whatever you say.”
Showing the Dark Elf the proper fingering, Kevin strummed the basic chords, then handed the lute back. Naitachal stumbled over the strings the first time, then echoed Kevin flawlessly.
“Hey, terrific!” the bardling said.
The Dark Elf grinned, this time in self-conscious delight. And to the bardling’s amazement, Naitachal began to pick out, very slowly and carefully, the melody to “The Maiden’s Garland.”
“That—that’s wonderful! And you only heard me play it once!” Kevin fought down the faint, irrational little touch of jealousy that didn’t like anyone else being able to play his lute, and added honestly, “Do you know how long it took me to figure out what you’re doing in one tiny lesson—” The bardling stopped, mind racing.
“Naitachal, listen to me, you can’t stop here.” The words came tumbling out of Kevin in his eagerness. ‘‘I mean it, when this is all over you’ve got to get musical training, you must! No, no, don’t shake your head at me. Music would be such a wonderful comfort for you —and you’ve got talent, true musical talent!”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
But for all his protest, Naitachal didn’t surrender the lute. As though driven by some inner demon, he bent over it once more, playing “The Maiden’s Garland’’ again and yet again, gradually bringing it up to proper speed.
Suddenly the Dark Elf stopped. With an embarrassed, delighted little laugh, he tried to give the lute back to Kevin. But Kevin was aware of how the others were staring at them in sheer confusion. The terrible necromancer wasn’t supposed to be acting like this!
