Destiny's Song (The Fixers, book #1: A KarmaCorp Novel) Read Online Free PDF

exercise. I’ll find a core resonant note for each of you in the room, and then play them against each other until I find the notes that blend best together.”
    A few heads were nodding—those would be the Singer trainees. They’d have learned the basics of base-note mapping already. “Then I’ll look at what the Song tells me, and how that compares to what my eyes have already noticed.”
    Confusion replaced head nods. Finally, a hesitant hand went up over to the left. “But I thought Talents were never wrong.”
    I’d believed that once. “They aren’t wrong, but sometimes their information can be incomplete or hard to understand.” And since I was no philosopher, that was as much as I was going to say on the subject. “Watch. If it’s still confusing when I’m done, ask your question again.”
    The owner of the hesitant hand nodded and settled back down.
    I started with a simple staircase of thirds, purposefully skipping all the pretty scales and soundings trainees were taught to open with. There was never time for that junk in the field.
    I hadn’t made it half a phrase before eager harmonics started joining mine. The Singer trainees, answering the question my Song asked of them. I was glad to see they weren’t all sitting together. Their base notes made up a clean chord with no signs of animosity, which was good. Singers rarely ended up in open conflict with each other, but when they did, it was hell for anyone in earshot.
    I also noted that none of them much liked bully girl in the front row.
    Four students mapped, thirteen to go. I started randomly singing base notes that occurred with the most frequency in big populations. The girl from the front row popped on the second one. It figured—half the bureaucrats in the galaxy resonated with that note. Two others in the class registered for that one as well, and three more came up as tight harmonics.
    Bully girl had a following.
    Seven left. These were thirteen-year-olds, so I shifted to a minor key, looking for the kids who were playing in the lands of drama and angst. Four more fit there, and two of the Singer trainees echoed my shift, making it clear they hung out there sometimes too. I sang back a soothing message of acceptance. In another five years, most of them would have moved back out of the minor keys, but thirteen was an age to explore your shadows.
    One of them sent back a quick subsonic trill of gratitude. I raised an eyebrow at their teacher in the back, surprised. That was advanced for this group. She nodded subtly. Exceptional Talent already noted.
    Three left. These would be the tricky ones, and the most fun.
    I shifted to chromatics, looking for the offbeat personalities, and smiled as the girl with the face tats pinged right away. Interesting, though—her base note fit in well with the Singers. We tend to attract rebels who know how to behave themselves when it matters. Or ones who would learn that one day, anyhow. I didn’t expect any thirteen-year-old kid to have their shit together.
    The next chromatic to hit shocked my Song to its core. Tatiana Mayes, child queen, resonated on a note I hadn’t seen in years—and her base note was a trio. Two of the notes were faint yet, but they were there. Warrior, artist, and rebel, all in a tightly wrapped package of ice.
    My eyes darted to the door, but Yesenia hadn’t magically materialized again.
    She must know. There was no way she couldn’t.
    Cool golden eyes intercepted mine on the return journey. The cub, pissed that I’d wandered off to check in with mommy.
    I wasn’t nearly dumb enough to engage that fight. I stepped back behind the lectern and cut off my Song. Time to throw the trainees a couple of interesting bones and get the heck out of town. There was far too much strangeness on the prowl this circuit home, and a smart cog knew when to duck and run.
    The student with face tats had her hand up like a shot. “So now that you know all about us, what would you do? If we were like