CHAPTER 35 #2
“Fuck, no, I don’t need another shadow. I have M’Pak most of the time, and as I said, Andokar assigns a guard to me when I’m here or if M’Pak isn’t available.”
“I will be that guard when your Granthor is not with you.”
“Listen, I don’t want to have this argument right now. We have people we need to talk to.”
“There is nothing to argue about,” he said.
I had plenty of thoughts about that, but at that moment, a chime sounded, and all attention turned to the dais.
Prince Dakleth guided me forward as King Akapa took the stage, in front of a dark blue, velvety curtain.
Princess Kashtinela appeared at my side, and we looked up as the King formally opened the ball.
“Greetings, honored guests. My family and I,” he gestured to us standing at the front of the dais, “welcome you all to our harvest festival celebration. Tonight we enjoy nature’s bounty, carefully stewarded by the Ptexari people.
I am grateful to all those who have had a part in bringing in the harvest and those who have had a hand in putting together this celebration gala.
I know you are as pleased as I am to welcome back to the Palace Prince Dakleth.
” He paused. Ptexari didn’t applaud in the human way.
They all made a sort of “Pss Pss Pss” sound that reminded me of coaxing a cat out of a corner.
It was cute, in its own way. There was a loud chorus of “Pss Pss Pss” around the ballroom, and Dakleth flexed his wings and bowed deeply to his father in acknowledgement.
“We have also added to our family Andrea of Earth, known affectionately to her friends as Andie,” the King continued.
I was caught off guard, not expecting to be referenced at all.
My cheeks flushed in embarrassment as all eyes turned to me, and I heard more “Pss Pss Pss” around the room.
I curtsied to the King, a gesture he knew was a human one, and he smiled at me.
“Andie has been an especial blessing upon our house this year. We call her Lumanela, although she insists she is merely human. But she has shown kindness and compassion, and grace under trying circumstances. She did not wish to come to Ptekennan, but has made herself at home amongst the Ptexari. The members of her village speak of her bringing food to the sick, taming a mighty Granthor, and pitching in to help glean the vegetables from the harvest. She has been a friend and sister to Katishnela, a daughter to me, and although a reluctant mate to Dakleth,” a titter ran through the crowd, “her forgiveness is the reason he is home with us. That is a debt that can never be repaid, but I hope this gift helps to make up for it.”
With that, the curtains drew away, revealing…
.a grand piano. I nearly fainted. How? Where did it come from?
A gift? It would never fit in my cottage.
“This is a human musical instrument called a piano,” the King continued.
“Although Andie has adapted well to our people, the things she misses most about Earth are her people and their music. We cannot, sadly, return her to her people, so we shall give her back her music. Andie, would you share some of your human music with us?”
I was speechless. My whole body was trembling.
I still couldn’t wrap my head around what I was seeing.
Where did he find a piano? How did he get it here?
Also, I hadn’t played in over a year. I wasn’t sure about playing for the first time in front of an audience of Ptexari and other alien diplomats, but how could I possibly refuse?
My legs were shaking, and Prince Dakleth escorted me up the stairs.
“Breathe, Andie,” he said. I caressed the black piano bench.
It was perfectly sized for me - much too small for a Ptexari.
I still couldn’t believe it was here. The material wasn’t quite familiar; it was similar to wood, but perhaps synthetic.
The black and white keys were smooth and laid out in the familiar octave pattern.
The top of the piano was open, and I could see the strings inside.
They were red, instead of the familiar silver or copper, and I wondered what they were made of, and if the piano would sound the same.
Had it been tuned? A million questions swirled through my brain as I ran my hands over the keys.
I played a scale to test the sound. The sound was resonant, but with a slight metallic sound, like a harpsichord.
I quickly keyed a scale and an arpeggio.
The notes were the same, and I almost cried at hearing it.
The Ptexari were silent around me. What to play?
There were so many pieces I loved, but I knew what it had to be.
High, low. High, low. High, low.
The familiar notes slipped into the first movement of Beethoven’s Für Elise.
The irony: I had always hated Für Elise.
The first movement was simple enough that nearly every child who took piano lessons was forced to learn it as their first big classical piece.
Every piano recital I ever went to had at least two or three kids stumbling through those same opening notes, usually too fast, too slow, or painfully off tempo.
Later, as students improved, they learned simplified versions of the livelier second section before finally attempting the full piece. By the time I was an accomplished pianist, I had played and heard so many versions of Für Elise that I could barely stand it. And it was so damned repetitive.
But that was one of the reasons I chose to play it now.
It was the song of my childhood - all those lessons, all those recitals.
It was one of the most iconic pieces of classical music in human history.
There probably wasn’t a person on Earth who didn’t recognize it.
It was a familiar piece of the shared human experience.
Here on Ptekennan, it belonged only to me.
The minor key gave the opening movement a fragile melancholy, a haunting loneliness that lingered beneath every note before the brighter second movement could finally break through.
It beautifully paralleled my own time here on Ptekennan, and I poured my heart and soul through my fingers, eyes closed, as the ballroom fell away.
At the end, there was a moment of silence, and then a rousing “Pss Pss Pss” from the audience.
And one lone person clapping, and a deep voice that yelled “Brava!” I turned my head, and my jaw dropped as I laid my eyes on a man. A human man.