Light From Uncommon Stars(55)

“Yes I am.”

Of course she was. Nothing here was a lie. She needed to analyze. She needed time to analyze.

Shirley turned to Shizuka.

“I apologize. I was … in error. May I return home?”

Shizuka nodded. She could sense no more aggression coming from the girl.

“Thank you, Miss Satomi.” She paused, then continued. “My mother thinks about you every day.”

“As I her,” Shizuka said softly. There was a flash, and Shirley was gone.

For a long time afterward, it was silent.

“You played magnificently,” Shizuka finally said.

Katrina turned to her teacher.

“So, when do I die?”

Tremon Philippe was right. Give someone with nothing the slightest chance to shine, and she will gratefully trade her soul.

“Just to be clear, Shirley was correct. I have taught six students. Each desired fame, musical immortality, love, triumph. But each felt they lacked a certain quality or aptitude necessary to succeed. So they traded their souls for supernatural technique, charisma, luck. And so on. And so on.

“Each gained exactly what they asked for. No one was cheated; their contracts were honored to the letter. But when they died, each died alone. Each died broken. And each will suffer eternally.

“And yes, as the mode of transmission, each of them used a certain bow.”

“I understand,” Katrina said, her voice shaking only a little bit.

“Are you sure? You understand the terms of the deal?”

Katrina Nguyen nodded.

“So … your soul for … what will it be?”

“Miss Satomi?”

“We need to be clear on that part, as well. So fame? Immortality? Winning international competitions?”

Katrina was confused. She knew what it felt like to lack something. But for her, music had nothing to do with lacking anything.

Katrina was ecstatic with how much music she was learning. She had a hot bath in the evening and icy tangerine juice in the morning. The garden was beautiful; she had super fast Wi-Fi. Helping Astrid in the kitchen was amazing; her mother had never taught her how to cook. And one day, she might have aubergines …

Miss Satomi laughed. “Well, you don’t need to sign your soul away for aubergines.”

Had Miss Satomi read her mind?

“I don’t even want to play in a competition.”

“Then you don’t have to.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” her teacher said.

“But, Miss Satomi, if I want none of what you offer and you aren’t demanding my soul, then why?”

“Let’s keep practicing to find out. But not until tomorrow. This evening has already been eventful enough.”

Shizuka watched her student run upstairs. It had been quite an evening, hadn’t it? To protect her student, she would have destroyed Shirley Tran right then and there.

But she didn’t have to—because Katrina had played that way, just like that, without the projector, without any enhancement at all.

Incredible. The girl was becoming quite the musician, wasn’t she?

Yes, Shizuka would complete the contract and deliver her soul.

But now was not quite the time.

Later that night, Shizuka tuned her violin. She frowned, then started again.

“Am I disturbing you?” It was Astrid.

“Oh, no … not at all. She’s a little out of sorts.” Shizuka glanced to her Guarneri. “So, what’s on your mind?”

“You didn’t give her the contract?”

Shizuka shook her head. “Katrina should trade her soul for something more meaningful than room, board, and violin lessons.”

“Miss Satomi, Katrina is a very nice girl.”

“Yes. Why are you bringing that up now?”

Astrid usually would never second-guess her employer. But Miss Satomi’s behavior had been puzzling.

“Miss Satomi, hasn’t this student, the very one whom you have chosen, essentially agreed to the terms? I would not want you to give up your music for—”

Shizuka put her violin down. First Tremon, now Astrid. Did they not know how much her music meant to her?

“Do you think I would endanger my own music for a student?”

“N-no. Miss Satomi, of course not. I—”

“I’ll know when it’s time, Astrid. Once that happens, I will deliver her without fail. Understood?”

“Y-yes, Miss Satomi.”

Shizuka slowed her breathing and refocused. Astrid was not Tremon. Besides, it was never good to show frustration.

“Thank you, Astrid. I know you only mean well. Good night.”

“Yes, Miss Satomi. Good night.”





18


Matía & Sons

Lucy Matía had walked under that sign every spring break, every summer vacation, and even after school.

And every day, in the workshop was Catalin Matía’s portrait.

If only he hadn’t said this was not a job for girls. If only her brother and cousins had been interested. If only she had been a son.

If only … If only …

Lucy took out a broom. Since Shizuka and her student had gone, the magic had already begun to fade. Soon, Mr. Zacatecas would be back, his carcass of a violin doused with another careless beer.