“Banquet hall?”
He smiled and shut off the engine. “They knew how to throw a party in the colonies, apparently.”
I gaped at the mansion. “And it’s just you?”
Jared nodded. “That’s how I wanted it. I do my best work when I’m alone.”
“What about someone to run the recording machines?”
Jared laughed. “That’s all done with a computer these days. I can control it remotely to adjust input levels, start and stop, whatever. Not like the old days, and perfect for the way I like to track.” He slid from behind the wheel. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”
He retrieved my bag from the trunk, hefting it effortlessly with one hand, and climbed the three steps to the massive stone porch. Another key unlocked the ornate, ten-foot-tall door, and he pushed it open. The hinges creaked in protest. Jared stepped aside and motioned for me, and I brushed past him into an oversized space with a stone floor, the darkness almost impenetrable as I waited for him to turn on the lights.
Jared flipped a set of switches and the area flooded with illumination. I looked around in awe – I was standing in a two-story foyer in what could have easily passed for a medieval castle. The walls were made of the same stone as the floor, and crudely hewn wood beams overhead held the roof in place. Jared gestured for me to follow him into the next room and turned on more lights.
I gasped at the size of this area, easily half the size of the school cafeteria, with wood planks covering all the walls, and the ceilings easily twenty feet high. The furniture was ornately carved and obviously ancient. The effect was breathtaking, and I took cautious steps as I looked up into the rafters, careful not to trip over any of the large rugs and break my neck.
“It’s…magnificent,” I said, my voice hushed.
“It is, isn’t it? It’s really been inspirational recording here. Comforting, but also with a sense of being somewhere special.” He grinned at his use of the word. “Kitchen’s through the butler pantry, in here. We can put your food away, and then I’ll show you the rest of the house.”
“How big is it?”
“The agent said eighteen thousand square feet, but it feels bigger because of the ceilings in some of the common areas.”
“Is this the banquet room?” I asked.
He laughed. “Oh, no. That’s really big. Over in the other wing.”
Jared guided me to the kitchen, which was surprisingly modern given the rest of the house, and I put the perishables into the refrigerator, noting a case of bottled water and another of diet soda sitting untouched beside it. I glanced at Jared with a quizzical expression and he shrugged. “Rental agent stocked the place with stuff like this. Also toilet paper and towels,” he said. “Obviously you’re free to drink or use whatever you want. Not like I’m going to.”
When I finished, he led me back through the huge living space into an adjacent hall that made the prior area seem smallish. It most reminded me of the interior of the church back home – if it had been gutted, with nothing remaining but the walls and floor. In one corner was a huge console with four speakers mounted in front of it, next to which sat three racks of electrical components, a pair of Apple computers on a work desk beside them.
Jared pointed to the cluster of gear. “That’s where it all happens. I made a kind of isolation booth for the vocals out of baffles over there, but for the keyboards and bass I run direct, so there’s no bleed. And the drums are all digital, so the only live mics are guitar and vocals. Very different from the old days, when you needed multiple recording rooms and a control room for the console and speakers. Now, all the playback is in my headphones while I’m tracking, and the mic’s gated, so there’s no background noise.”
I couldn’t follow half of what he was saying, but his excitement was contagious; I could feel energy radiating off him. I took his hand and offered a smile. “I’d love to hear some of the songs whenever you’re ready to share them.”
“Maybe tomorrow. You must be beat.”
I nodded. “Sort of. But the caffeine from that soda on the plane is still working its magic, so you’re not rid of me yet.” A thought occurred to me. “Do you track at night, or during the day?”
“I don’t really have a fixed schedule. Whenever an idea comes to mind, or when I’m inspired to lay down a vocal.”
“It’s got to be tough with the filming.”
He snapped his fingers, the sound as loud as a pistol shot in the hall. “Damn! The filming. I totally forgot. I need to get the schedule from Christina. I told her to film what she could without me today, but they only have so much time at the location.”
“You’re seriously going to go to the set tomorrow?”
“I have to, or it’ll be too suspicious.”
“And you’re not afraid you might misjudge something, and they’ll get the jump on you?”
He shook his head. “They’re mortals. It would be nearly impossible for them to do so. But I want to see if I can lure them into trying, or making a mistake. They can’t do that if I’m not there for them to come after.”
“They managed to do it with Carl,” I reminded him.
Jared’s face grew stony at the mention of his friend’s name. “I’m not Carl. It won’t be as easy with me.” He squeezed my hand. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.” He seemed to shake off the momentary glumness and tilted his head at another hallway. “Come on. I’ll show you the master bedroom.”
I eyed him suspiciously. “Do you even use it? I mean, you don’t sleep…”
“I rest. It’s not really sleep, but I relax. Although that’s one of the many things I miss about being mortal – the escape of sleep. It’s not easy
