Lena should have been exhausted. She'd been on her feet for most of the day, and after spending so much time sitting around that room, her body shouls be aching. But she felt great. Every exchange had invigorated her as much as it did the Nethren. Tuning their tech also tuned her. Vor was immensely pleased. He kept hovering his hand behind her on the way to the dining hall, where the soldiers took their meals. He'd only touched her once, when she had paused at a corner, and she hadn't pulled away from him. Which worried her.
The tables in the vast dining hall were full, and as Vor escorted her to the center of the room, Nethren stared at her, but it didn’t bother her. She had met many of them earlier, and those soldiers nodded to her in greeting. There was no malice there,even in those she hadn't met yet. Only curiosity. And Lena had sung before audiences of thousands. No, they didn't make her nervous. Vor did.
Commander Vor held himself so differently when he was among his people than when he was alone with her. When it was just the two of them, he appeared relaxed—at least when they weren't arguing—and he smiled often. Around everyone else, he was the powerful commander, his jawline as firm as his will. Chest puffed out, shoulders squared, and back straight, Vor went among the Nethren as if going before a judge. Perhaps it felt that way to him.
Lena lowered her gaze to the floor, unsettled by the way her feelings for Vor and his people had changed. Especially for Vor. The more she saw him as a normal man, the more attractive he became. And the more worried Lena became.
“My fellow soldiers!” Vor shouted as he stopped Lena in a space between tables at the center of the room. “Many of you have already met Lena Drask.” He motioned at Lena. “The rest of you will meet her soon. She is the Medean woman Source led me to, the one I flew an erial to retrieve. Source protected and guided me through a gathering of Aethari and Medeans, most of them warriors, all so that I could bring Lena back to you. She is our miracle. I know that's hard to believe, but those of you who have touched her hand know I'm speaking true. Lena is a connection to the power that is our birthright. I believe both Sources resonate through her, and she can share them through her voice and her touch.” He paused and nodded at the shocked faces. “Yes, both of the Sources. We will always be children of Technology, but the barest touch of Magic tunes us to our highest potential. It makes us who we were meant to be. So please, all of you, listen. Those in the kitchen, come forth. I wantas many of you as possible to hear Lena sing. Only then will you truly understand.”
Men and women came into the room through a door near the banquet tables, aprons wrapped around their waists, some of them wiping their hands on towels. They formed a line along one wall and leaned back to wait. One of the kitchen staff, a man with tousled dark hair and blue eyes, grinned at her. She blinked in surprise and then smiled back, feeling an odd connection to him. For some strange reason, an image of Evellor came to mind.
“Lena?” Vor whispered.
Lena cleared her throat. “This would be so much better with an instrument, but I hope you enjoy the song anyway.”
“Commander?” A man stood up.
“Yes, Lieutenant?” Vor motioned him forward.
The man, a handsome brunette with an arm similar to Vor's, came through the tables and stopped before them. Lena recognized him as a soldier she'd met earlier that day, but she couldn't remember his name.
“Ma'am.” He nodded to her and then spoke to Vor, “I found a stringed instrument in the room I'm using, sir. Would that help?”
Vor looked at Lena.
“I can play most stringed instruments. Yes, that would be lovely.”
“I'll fetch it, if you don't mind waiting.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Vor said.
The man ran off toward the doors.
“Just a few moments,” Vor said to the remaining soldiers. “The lieutenant is fetching an instrument for Lena to play.”
Lena expected the usual shuffling and soft voices that a room full of waiting people produced. No such noises occurred. The Nethren simply returned to their meals, eating quietly. Lena had to lower her gaze again, feeling awkward before a crowd for the first time in her life. It wasn't stage fright but the pressure Vor had put on her with his speech. They expected more than entertainment. They wanted a miracle. What would happen if she didn't deliver? At the very least, Vor would look foolish, and Lena would get embarrassed. Sure, she had shaken hands and “tuned” Nethren all day, but this was different. Vor expected her to work her magic through music. Lena didn't even know what she did when she touched a Nethren. How was she supposed to know how to do the same thing with her voice alone?
“Lena?” Vor whispered, leaning down to her. “Are you all right?”
“I won’t manifest a miracle with a song, Vor,” she whispered back.
“I think you will. But it's all right if you don't. Just give them some peace. Make them smile. That is miracle enough for us.”
Lena's worry vanished as she stared into Vor's eyes. “All right.”
“Here it is.” The lieutenant had returned with an instrument. He handed it to her. “Can you use this, ma'am?”
“Yes, this is called a guitar. I know it well.” Lena took the guitar by the neck. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome, ma'am.”
“Call me Lena, Lieutenant.”
“I'm Navur. Thank you for singing for us.”
“My pleasure,” Lena said the words by rote, but then realized that she meant them.
Vor stood back, giving Lena space as she settled the strap around her shoulders. She made a few practice strums to tune the guitar and then paused. Was this what she did to them—tuning them like an instrument? No, machines needed tuning too. That's what Vor meant. Even so, it felt appropriate. Lena lifted her head, that strange feeling of calm certainty coming over her again. This was where she was supposed to be and exactly what she was supposed to be doing.
