Missing Elements (The Lament Book 3) (16 page)

It was starting to get a bit
hectic, but after that they compared notes and started to make a few plans,
right until Pran suggested that she really did have some
official
work
to do.

Making a sculpture.

For some reason everyone laughed
at her then.

Pran just worked for hours, not
paying much attention to anyone at all, even if they were all there, talking
about things. Clair finally left after Clarice came in, and at about two bells
after noon she was asked by the High Bard to wash up. It was a bit weird, but
lunch had come for all of them, and she was covered to the elbows with pale
clay, made damp so that she could smooth the rough man sized form she'd
created.

It was rough still, but the basic
shape was there. You could tell that it was going to be a man, and that he was
in flowing robes. The face was unformed however, and the hair would take a
while to get right. Brown had stood next to the thing for her a few times, and
helped her move the table from the center of the room, ending up in front of
the secret door near the back. Not that she wanted to block the thing from use,
it was just the best place to put it and if she didn't know it was there, what
she'd have done.

She washed in the sink though,
hunger suddenly pressing on her middle more than a little. It hadn't been that
intense when she worked, but once she came up for air, it was all she could
think about for a few minutes. She ate in silence, the plate having a delicate
pastry that had meat inside it. It was a roast fowl, she thought, and a bit
greasy, but it wasn't bad, given that. Tender and juicy, with lots of
vegetables in the mix. On the side of the plate was a pile of sliced and boiled
potatoes with butter on the top, melting down the side in a clear stream of
delicious salt and spices.

There were cooked carrots as
well, which made the whole thing a bit more starchy than she would have thought
people ate most of the time, but it was good. At least as nice as the food from
the day before.

No one spoke of anything all that
telling or important, so when she spoke, Pran pointed over at Clarice's desk,
where the note from earlier was set.

"The Great Bard Marin Lester
came by earlier, looking for someone to give him some introductions here in the
city. I don't know anyone, but said that I'd let you know and beg you to set
him up with auditions, if anything came up. I hope that's all right? I don't
know if he can play or act, but he presented himself as interesting
enough." She wanted to shrug, but controlled that and ate for a bit while
Clarice smiled and looked away.

"Ah! Marin's back in town?
Wonderful. I know
exactly
who to set him up with as well." She
nibbled at her own plate, slowly, taking her time to savor every bite she took.
Everyone here seemed to do that. Really, almost everyone did that, and had even
at school. It was just that she simply ate, and then had always gone to work on
things, rather than socialize for hours on end like everyone else. It had
always been a thing with her. Ten minutes into the meal, she was done, and that
was only when she ate slowly.

Looking at her plate she shook her
head, which got Clarice to smile.

"Is your meal warm enough?
You made a face."

"Oh... It's wonderful. I was
just noticing how slow everyone is with their meals. I..." She wasn't
going to mention it at first, but finally shrugged. Brown didn't know her story,
as far as she knew, and neither did her new... Well, if the High Bard was
serious, she wasn't her master, was she? Her boss, at the very least.

She waited for a bit then just
decided to open her mouth and say it.

"I... When I was in the
Grange, before art school, if you ate too slow someone would steal your food,
and you didn't get to eat. Even now I can't help but bolt my food. Even here, I
keep expecting Brown to jump up and start hitting me while the rest of you take
my plate." She smiled, not meaning it totally. Pran had to though.
Otherwise her past might have overwhelmed her. For the most part she tried not
to think about it.

It was how she got through her
life. That part of it didn't count. It was the past and had to stay there, so
that she could survive in the here and now.

Mara nodded, but Clark pretended
not to understand, even though all Guardians would have gotten the idea. Clarice
looked...
Stricken
.

"I wasn't aware... You grew
up in the Grange?"

Sighing, Pran nodded. "Yep.
Pran Grange, all my life. Before you ask it's
worse
than you probably
heard. If I ever get a chance, I'll have it shut down and... I don't know. I
guess no one does, which is why they collect up the children of the insane and
put them in a single place like that. The regular kids are... Well, none of us
really are, in the end, are we? Years of abuse and rape, fighting to survive
every day. It's like a war from an old story." Her mouth shut then, since
no one was going to want to hear her. Clarice even looked away from her, and so
did Brown.

At first she thought they were
embarrassed for her, growing up being so poor. Maybe they thought that she was
insane, because her mother, or father, had been? Probably mother, since there
had been no one willing to take care of her, other than the government, at that
age. She'd seen other kids go on about how they had real parents, and that they
might come and get them, someday, but she never had. No, if anyone in the world
had loved then, they wouldn't have been there at all.

It surprised her then when Brown
spoke.

"We need to shut that place
down. We bring it up, the Judges do, each year at the grand Council, but like
you said Pran, no one knows what else to do about it. If we could help those
children... We failed them.
All
of them, over and over. The problem always
come down to that one thing. No one knows what else to do about it. So many of
them are so damaged that there's simply no way to help them." There was a
finality to the words, but Clarice looked at the man, coldly.

"
Isn't
there though?
If they were given love and not raised to be animals, perhaps they-" She
stopped, her eyes going wide as she looked at Pran. "I didn't
mean..."

"That I'm an animal too?
Aren't I?" She winked at the woman and took a few more bites of her lunch,
not really tasting it anymore. That was her fault, for bringing up her past.
That never went well.

Everyone looked at her, but no
one spoke waiting for her to do it, because that was fair.

"You know... When I was
nine, the day before the man came and took me away to art school, there was
this boy. I guess he must have been thirteen. I didn't know, but he was big.
Mean, too. A lot of the boys would, um, you know use the younger kids. For sex?
Wald though, he... He liked to kill the girls that he used. He'd do it... Uh...
in their behinds? To make them scream, and if they weren't quiet he'd choke
them to death. He flat told me the day before that he was going to fuck my ass
and kill me... So I killed him first. I stabbed him in the throat with a piece
of wood that I'd sharpened. It was in self defense, but I knew that if the
Keepers found out, they'd lock me away in the dark place, and starve me to
death. So I hid it. When the man came for me, with the wagon... I thought he
was taking me to die." It was dangerous, admitting that, but the words
just came out.

It was all in a rush, without
art. Without style or purpose as far as she could see. Mara gave her a hard
look, but Brown cleared his throat, which sounded thick, like he was fighting
tears.

"True. Have you killed
anyone since then?" The words were nearly whispered, but she nodded,
making him wince.

Until she spoke about it.

"Those people from the past?
The downloads. To protect The Lament?"

Clark looked at the Judge, his
own eyes harder than she'd seen them in a while. When he spoke, his voice was
rough.

"Acting as a Guardian,
with
government sanction. It was a
correct
use of force. Backed by every
Guardian that was there. I can get them for you, if you insist on a
trial." There was a chill to the room then, but it lightened when the man
shook his head.

"No need. There wouldn't be
anyway. A threat of death in a situation like that would make a lethal response
legal, even if Pran could have fled at the time. The Lament couldn't be
abandoned."

That, it seemed was the end of
the discussion, so she finished her food, and started collecting up the plates
from the ones that were done.

"I should get back to work
then. I need to get the face roughed out today. We'll do the first real sitting
tomorrow, in the morning, so don't be too late, Judge Brown. I have that
wedding to perform at in the afternoon. I need to go over the set tonight and
practice it. Plus... an outfit for that." She didn't want to ask about
that, but Clarice nodded, somberly.

"We can take care of that
later, at home. I have a lovely gown that will work for it. A matching
hat
too."
It was clear that she really didn't like the very short hair that Pran had
going on at the moment. It would grow, but if she said that there would be a
hat worn, well, then there
would
.

Then, as if nothing had happened,
she got up and went back to work in the other room. No one came in for a long
time and when that happened it wasn't Brown, but Mara. Which
wasn't
the
person she needed at the moment. Not that she needed anyone for what she was
doing. A nose was going to be roughly in the same place, regardless of whose
face she was sculpting. The same was true of the eyes and mouth. At least she
could get it close enough for it to work that way.

The woman in black just stood there,
watching her for a long time. When she spoke, it wasn't about the Grange
though, or Pran's past.

"We need to get back to
work, on your physical skills. I notice that you're armed, which is a good
idea."

Pran nodded, not having forgotten
that she hadn't given the sap back to Salle. It wasn't theft really, but she'd
need to give it back the next day, if not later in that one.

"I need something better. I
could... spare an hour or two, if I got up early enough. Or maybe do it before
bed? I don't know if I'll have time tonight, but I'll try. Are you and Clark
going to come home with Clarice and I?"

That got a shrug, so Pran called
out, walking to the open door.

"Clarice? Clark and Mara
need to come home with us, so they can guard you at night. Maybe someone else
too. Tuvin maybe? He can sleep in front of your door, to keep you safe while
the others rest." She grinned, making it a joke, but Clarice seemed fine
with the basic plan.

"Certainly. It will make me
seem important, if nothing else. We have spare rooms for each of you. This
Tubin as well."

Pran smiled. "Tuvin. He's
the High Guardian's Apprentice. Clark will see about setting that up? Or I can,
if you want." She held up her clay covered hands though, which were going
to start to dry if she didn't get back to work soon. Pran
hated
that
feeling, and really wanted to avoid it, if it was at all possible.

Both of the Guardian's looked
like the idea was a real one however, not an excuse for the large and scarred
man to go and report what they'd learned earlier to the head of his order. The
names of the people that she thought might well be from the past, in stolen
bodies.

Clark grinned, a large thing that
looked a bit silly.

"I'll see to that. Are you
certain you want
Tuvin
? He's a bit young, don't you think?"

Like she wasn't, which was the
secret point to the words, she didn't doubt. Part of the rather useless act
they were putting on, making it seem like they were downloads.

"Part of the plan. He's
still young enough his back won't scream too much from sleeping on the floor.
I'd insist on a real guard, except that I don't think there's
real
danger to all of this. It's more of a training exercise for him and an excuse
for the rest of us to make friends with Clarice and Kabrin. It never hurts to
know people, after all. Plus, there's Doctor Soros there, who's another person
that you should get to know." She didn't say why, and Clarice didn't
insist on an answer to that either.

Then she was nodded at, and
allowed to get back to work, for several hours, getting more done than she
would have thought. At about six, Bard Clarice came in to look at what she'd
gotten done so far, and Pran stepped back. It looked all right.

Clarice clapped.

"Truly incredible, Bard
Pran. I never once managed anything that fine in clay, and it's a hobby of
mine. How long do you think it will take you to finish it?"

That... Would depend on a lot of
things, but she thought about it then tilted her head back and forth.

"Five or six more work days
like this one? Maybe more. I want to texture the cloth and hair, as well as the
skin, and that takes time to do right. I should have a rough likeness ready in
three days though. More or less." That was fast, but the work would be
counted in hours spent, not the days she split them up into. If she didn't sleep
she could probably get done in the next twenty-four hours. There were other
things to see to, however.

Like dinner, and washing up
before she was seen in public. Looking down at her front there was pale clay on
her rolled up sleeves and on the front of her black shirt, which meant doing
laundry that evening too. She only owned two shirts and if one was dirty, that
meant sleeping in the other, or going nude. That wasn't a thing she'd ever been
comfortable with, since you never knew when you might need to get up in the
middle of the night.

The trip home that night was the
same as the one before, except with a larger group. When they got into the
house, there was no one around, except for the unseen servants, so Pran didn't
have to socialize directly and washed again, then used the sink in her bathroom
to scrub her clothing up quickly, since it was only the one outfit. She hung
them to dry over the tub, and was dressed identically when she moved to the
front playing room to go over what she needed for the next day. She even
practiced setting up, and decided against doing a full introduction, since
people at a party wanted to listen to soft things as a backdrop, not be
distracted with constant talking from her.