Praxis Novellas, Mosaic Chronicles Book Two

by Andrea Pearson

  That was what the men were discussing up front while Nicole stared out the window, wishing their trip to Moses Lake, Washington would hurry up and end. They’d been in the car for two-and-a-half hours.

  She turned her thoughts from the conversation and let them stray to the manor on the far side of Moses Lake they would be visiting, and the old man who owned it. Coolidge had been quiet about the reason they were heading there, though he had let on that it would hugely impact Nicole’s ability to Channel. She figured it had to do with her focus—the cello—which meant Coolidge had most likely gotten his hands on one.

  Nicole sighed. She’d found a cello in Ohio that helped her Channel, but it—and the woman who owned it—had disappeared while she’d been studying there for three weeks.

  “Nicole,” Coolidge said, “I’ve already told you this trade was difficult to arrange, and Austin says you’ve guessed that it’s a cello. Well, Albert wants to see you play it before he’ll allow you to take it back with us. Just . . . be careful with this instrument, okay? He’s very attached to it.”

  “Of course.”

  Soon, they were driving through the streets of Moses Lake, then turning onto and following Wheeler Road. Nicole watched as acres and acres of farmland passed on either side of them. After twenty minutes, the landscape began to be dotted with trees.

  “We’re not far now,” Coolidge said, peering into the distance.

  Nicole watched as the trees turned into a heavy forest. It somehow seemed unnatural, though she couldn’t put her finger on why. A foreign feeling accompanied the massive, twisted trees that towered over the car and cast them all into dark shadows.

  Coolidge slowed, then turned onto a newly paved road. They pulled up to a large, ornate gate and he rolled down the window and punched in a code. The gates opened, admitting entrance, and the car continued onward.

  Five minutes after passing through the gates, Nicole caught glimpses of the manor, but it wasn’t until they entered a huge clearing that she saw everything in full. Her jaw dropped.

  She had grown up in a wealthy family with a large estate, but her house had nothing on this place. Turrets and towers pierced the sky. Gables and heavy beams seemed to go for a mile at least. The place must have been tens of thousands of square feet. It was large enough to house a village.

  Dead vines crawled up most of the walls—Nicole guessed that if it had been summer, the vines would be green and lush. But at the beginning of November, they only made the place look dead and creepy.

  “Brings to mind Rose Red, doesn’t it?” Coolidge asked.

  Austin and Nicole nodded. That about summed up Nicole’s feelings.

  Lizzie hissed to Nicole, “What’s Rose Red?”

  “Stephen King,” Nicole said. “You wouldn’t like it.”

  “Well, I think this place is beautiful.” Lizzie sighed. “And romantic.”

  Coolidge chuckled. “Don’t read or watch Rose Red, and you can keep that opinion.”

  An older man—probably Albert—waited on the porch, a serene smile on his face, arms behind his back. He wore a Mr. Rogers sweater—the red, zip-up type—and faded slacks.

  Coolidge pulled the car to a stop, and the four of them exited, Nicole stretching her back, getting out a few pops.

  Albert approached Coolidge, and they shook hands and hugged. Nicole watched Albert closely, waiting for him to exhibit characteristics of someone who lived in a creepy old manor, but the man was kind, gentle, and warm.

  He invited them inside, and Nicole was surprised to find that the interior of the house was incredibly clean. No dust or cobwebs anywhere. It was in pristine condition. She smiled. Her mom would approve.

  The house had been upgraded a few times since having been built, and modern light fixtures graced the walls and ceilings. Albert kept the place well lit, and Nicole appreciated that.

  After passing several halls and rooms and taking many turns, they entered a room that had stringed instrument corpses and parts hanging on the walls—bridges, scrolls, necks, and other sections, along with whole instruments. It had never occurred to Nicole that instruments could be creepy, but here they were.

  “I’m surprised your car made it this far,” Albert said after they’d all been seated on worn, but clean brown couches.

  Coolidge frowned. “Why?”

  “Ever since the meteor hit, machines haven’t been working very well in this area. We’re fine in here, but cars have completely stalled in parts of the driveway.”

  Coolidge raised his eyebrows. “I haven’t heard anything about a meteor. How big was it?”

  “Five feet across. And it didn’t really fall from the sky, which is probably why you haven’t heard anything. It just sort of exploded into the middle of my property, right next to the home of a man who’s been employed by my family for years. We had people come out and test the metal, and the only conclusive thing they came up with is that it wasn’t from earth. But the fact that it didn’t fall from the sky says it has to be.” He leaned back in his seat. “It’s a complete mystery.”

  “I’d like to see it,” Coolidge said. “And I’m sure my students would as well.”

  Nicole, Austin, and Lizzie all nodded.

  “Can’t. It’s gone now.”

  Nicole frowned. Gone? Too bad. It would have been awesome to see.

  “How?” Coolidge asked. “Taken away by the ‘authorities’?”

  “Nope,” Albert said. “We had a severe rainstorm a few days ago. The meteor was struck multiple times by lightning, then disappeared completely.”

  No one said anything for a moment, then finally, Albert turned to Austin. “Professor Coolidge has told me about you. You’re quite accomplished.”

  Austin glanced at him briefly and nodded, then stared at a spot above Albert’s head. Nicole smiled to herself. She knew Austin well enough to recognize that he wasn’t enjoying the attention, especially from someone he wasn’t familiar with. She ached to join him on his couch and rub his hand, helping him get out of himself, but she resisted. The last time they’d talked, while flying home from Arches National Park, she’d gotten the impression that yes, he was interested in her, but that he was struggling with knowing whether to date her or to get back with his ex-girlfriend, Savannah.

  That didn’t make it easier to control her impulse, though. And for the first time in a while, she let her eyes explore his features, enjoying the curves and angles—the perfection—of his face.

  “How many of the four main elements can you control now?” Albert asked him.

  Austin glanced at him, then away. “All but one—Wind.”

  “Makes sense. You shouldn’t be far off from that one, though.”

  Nicole had recently learned that Arete abilities formed a sort of cycle, with the ability just above each Arete being the easiest to learn, while the one directly below was hardest. Earth, Water, Fire, Wind. Austin, as an Earth Arete, was struggling to learn Wind, but had quickly grasped Water. Nicole would learn the elements gradually too—Wind, Earth, Water, then finally, Fire, if she stuck with it. Which she planned on doing.

  “How do you like looking after the house on your own?” Coolidge asked after another moment of silence.

  Albert shrugged. “It’s nothing—I’m used to doing most everything by myself anyway. It saves a great deal of money.”

  Lizzie frowned. “But you’re a billionaire—Coolidge said so. Why do you need to save money?”

  Albert’s eyes twinkled. “You’re a very forthright young lady, Miss Lizzie.”

  Lizzie looked at her feet. “Sorry, I just . . . I’m just curious.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I don’t mind questions.” He leaned back in his chair. “People get rich by living within their means and not getting into debt. Yes, I inherited a lot of money and land, but the habits of my parents and grandparents who lived through the Great Depression aren’t easily shed, and I’ve nearly quadrupled my inheritance.” He pointed to an old lemonade stand in the corner. “I’ve had t
hat since I was four and mature enough to understand the concept behind a product in exchange for money. My father built it for me.”

  His eyes clouded over, and he appeared to be deep in thought. Several silent moments passed, and Nicole met eyes with Lizzie, wondering how or if they should break the silence. It was awkward, like wool fabric against sensitive skin.

  “Albert?” Coolidge asked. “Are you all right?”

  Albert shook himself. “Yes, I’m fine. I . . . I’ve had two Aretes become deathly ill nearly the minute they enter the forest behind the manor. It’s presenting a problem, and I’m finding myself frequently distracted.” He glanced at the girls. “Lest you think my mind skips around a lot, there was a small connection. My father fell ill with pneumonia and died from complications. I’ve had a bit of a cold that just doesn’t seem to go away. It’s pretty much unrelated, but those two Aretes have had me thinking a lot about mortality lately.”

  He straightened. “Would anyone like a glass of lemonade?”

  All four of his visitors said yes, and he jumped to his feet, insisting on doing it himself.

  A moment later, when everyone had a glass in his or her hand, Albert glanced at Nicole. “It’s time to introduce you to Niko.”

  “Niko?” Lizzie asked.

  “My cello. Named after cellist and composer Nikolaus Kraft.”

  “You gave your cello a nickname?” Lizzie said. “That’s kind of cute.”

  Albert smiled. “Thank you, Miss Lizzie. I’ve always striven for ‘kind of cute.’ Maybe I should have made full cute my goal, but alas, I didn’t.” He turned to Nicole. “How long have you been playing?”

  “Since I was five.”

  Albert nodded. “Do you enjoy the cello?”

  “Oh, yes. Very much.”

  “Are you any good?”

  Nicole felt a flush cross her cheeks, and she glanced at Austin for a moment. He gave her a half smile, warming her insides, and she looked back at Albert. “Well . . . I . . .” She cleared her throat. “Yes, I believe I have a gift.”

  Albert nodded. “Before I make any decisions, I’d like to hear you play, if that’s all right.” He smiled, leaning forward. “But you need to understand something. I’ve been invited to several private concerts by both Yo-Yo Ma and Bernard Greenhouse.”

  Nicole wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She definitely wasn’t as talented as either man, but she wasn’t horrible, either. She hoped Albert would approve of her playing. “Um . . . okay.”

  “Well, I’ll get the instrument.” Albert stood and left the room.

  It didn’t take long for him to return. He set the case in front of Nicole, then opened it, showing her the cello. She reached for it, but he shook his head.

  “No, I’ll do that myself.” He undid a strap around the neck, then pulled out the cello, holding it for a moment, hesitating. Obviously, it meant a lot to him.

  After looking at it for a while, he finally handed it to Nicole.

  The instant the instrument was in Nicole’s hands, she felt an electrical charge run through her, lifting her hair, making her feel lighter than air for a moment. A floating sensation from the charge made her limbs raise unbidden. It was accompanied by a rush of warmth that enveloped her.

  She smiled, welcoming the feeling, and glanced at the others. “Did anyone sense that?”

  Albert leaned back in his seat. “Even I did, and I’m not an Arete. Clearly, the cello calls to you.” He motioned to her. “Don’t Channel your powers. Just play.”

  Nicole did so, starting with a selection by Dvorak, then moving on to Camille Saint-Saens. At first, it was easy. The notes seemed to sing and breathe their way out of the cello. But after a moment, Nicole could sense a pull on the magical currents that quietly surrounded her. She felt them flowing toward the ocean of magic that had started to build again after her return from Ohio. She struggled to contain them. To prevent the dam from bursting.

  Her mouth popped open, realizing that for the first time, she was pushing her powers away rather than begging them to flow to her. Weird! And wonderful!

  She played for several minutes, casually noticing—but pretending not to notice—the expressions of those around her. Lizzie was grinning. Coolidge was nodding, a look of pride on his face. Albert’s eyes were closed, enjoying the melodies.

  And Austin . . . Austin. He watched her closely, enraptured. Their gazes met. Nicole felt a thrill at the intensity of his expression, at the possessiveness there, the pride, the sense of protection she felt in his gaze. Her heart warmed, the heat spreading to her stomach and into her legs and arms. How was it possible that this talented and powerful man was interested in and attracted to her?

  After several minutes, Albert motioned for her to stop and took the cello from her. “I don’t want you playing unless you are in the presence of at least one other Arete or myself. Never alone—not until you master your powers.” He put the cello back into the case, fastening the straps and zipper. “Your professor tells me you exhibit great strengths—that you have abilities waiting to be released. I don’t want you damaging my instrument.”

  “Especially since she already controls wood to an extent,” Austin said.

  Nicole nodded and gave her word to Albert.

  What Austin said was true, and it would be a while before she’d be able to stop reliving the experiences they’d had while in Arches National Park. Nicole had nearly killed herself by forcing her powers to go beyond what she was ready to handle. Wood was under Earth powers, and since she hadn’t mastered her own abilities, it was dangerous for her to mess around with Earth.

  “How old is this cello?” she asked. The one that belonged to Mrs. Morse in Ohio had been at least a hundred years old—she could sense that while playing. And this cello felt even older than that.

  Albert scratched his head, thinking. “Let’s see . . . around three hundred years.”

  Nicole’s eyes widened. “How can you be sure?”

  “Easy. It’s one of sixty remaining Stradivari.”

  Nicole gasped. “It’s … it’s a Stradivarius? Why on earth are you letting me touch it, let alone take it home?”

  “It’s on loan to you for only a week, maybe two. If you don’t develop your powers before the time is up, you’re welcome to stay here temporarily.” He motioned out the window. “My tenant’s daughter comes and cleans for me for several hours every day, as payment for letting them continue living on the property, and she would keep you company. Honestly, she could even benefit from . . . well . . . from meeting a girl close to her age who isn’t so sheltered.”

  Nicole shrugged. “I’ll consider it.” She hoped she’d develop her abilities before then, just to prevent the hassle of having to move around so much, but a week or two wasn’t a lot of time.

  Lizzie frowned. “So, you’re letting Nicole borrow a priceless cello. What are we giving you in return?”

  “Professor Coolidge has provided me with something of equal importance.”

  “What could possibly be worth millions of dollars?” Lizzie asked.

  Albert shrugged. “Not much that I would need or want. But what I’m getting is worth millions of hours. It’s an automatic food preserver.”

  “An automatic food preserver?” Austin asked. “I’ve never heard of one.”

  Nicole smiled that it made even Austin speak up—such a rare occurrence.

  “That’s because only one exists. The family that still lives on my property is sort of Amish. They don’t have power or plumbing, and they maintain no connection to the outside world. I allow them to stay as long as they provide me with food. And they do—they grow quite an abundance. I preserve almost all of it myself. It’s much cheaper than buying food from a grocery store that’s over half an hour of a drive. But, as you probably know, preserving foods the old-fashioned way can be very time-consuming.

  “With the automatic food preserver, my life will become much easier. You put the ingredients in one side and the canning containers in
another, and the machine does the rest. Boiling, steaming, heating, cleaning, zipping, sealing, everything. Magic is involved, of course, because no machine would be able to do it all.”

  Nicole shook her head. She had to admit, something like that would be very handy.

  Just then, a man with a sparse, graying beard stepped into the doorway. He held a hat in his hands and wore a pair of faded overalls.

  “Oh, Winston,” Albert said. “Come in and meet my friends.”

  Winston entered the room, a large grin on his face. He shook hands with everyone as Albert introduced them. He was followed by a teenage girl with brown, sparkly eyes and dark ringlets. She wore a dress that reminded Nicole of a real pioneer. It was obvious by how similar the two looked that she was Winston’s daughter.

  “Winston and his family are the tenants I was telling you about.” Albert motioned the girl forward. “This is Prudy, Winston’s oldest daughter. She’s the one who comes to clean every day.”

  Prudy curtsied, her long dress bunching as she dipped. She held a basket full of apples in her hands. A bonnet hung down her back.

  Coolidge motioned to Winston. “Albert here was telling us that a meteor struck near your house.”

  Winston bobbed his head. “Yeah, it did. ‘Cept, it didn’t struck—it appeared.” He pointed to the basket of apples Prudy carried. “That meteor done somethin’ good, I tell ya. It gone and made the crops produce in overabundance!” He stepped to his daughter’s side and pulled out several apples, then passed them around the room. “My best crop of Granny Smiths this year. And ya’ll get the pleasure of bein’ the first to try ’em.”

  Winston blinked, looking at everyone. “Well, go ahead.”

  Nicole looked down at the apple in her hand. It was beautiful—huge, bright green, luscious. The prettiest Granny Smith she’d ever seen. She rubbed off a spot, then took a bite, noticing the others do the same.