Faery Worlds - Six Complete Novels (78 page)

“They must not have enough to do with their time,” his mom said. “These kids.”

“It's...they like the music, Mom!” Jason said. “That's why so many people watch it. And they share it on Facebook and Twitter and that other one...MySpace...so everybody who sees it shares it with more and more people. And so many people just really like the music.”

“Stop trying to change the subject,” his dad said. “We want to know about your job.”

“So a bunch of fans starting coming from all over to McSlob...McSlawburger's. And the assistant manager told me to just sit down and sign autographs. Then the owner came in and fired me for sitting there and signing autographs.”

“Aha!” his dad said. “Goofing off on the clock.”

“But I did what the assistant manager told me to do.”

“Why would anyone want your autograph?” his mom asked.

“Because, I told you, the video's a crazy big hit. In fact...we got invited to play at The Spoon and Cherry Festival. The Minneapolis Sculpture Garden.”

“Absolutely not!” his dad said.

“But Mitch already told them yes,” Jason said. “I can't let the band down.”

“You're grounded, you get fired from your job, and now you want to run around with those kids from that ridiculous band?” his dad shouted.

“Like that Erin Kavanagh girl,” his mom said. “I don't trust her, with all that wild-colored hair.”

“It's not ridiculous!” Jason said. “And Erin's not a bad person. Dad, they're paying us a thousand dollars each. For one night!”

“A thousand...” His dad's eyes went wide, but then he blinked and shook his head. “The money doesn't matter. It's the principle of the thing. We forbade you to go hanging around those bad kids, and you ignored us. And you got yourself fired.”

“But I got a better job,” Jason said. “If I worked at McSlob...the hamburger place all summer, every day, I wouldn't make a thousand dollars.” Jason didn't mention that all the money might have to go to Mitch's mom to repair her house. There would be plenty of shows ahead, the way things were going.

“I don't see why they'd pay so much money,” his dad said.

“Because everyone wants to see us! We're pretty good.” Jason hesitated, then plunged forward. “You should watch some of the videos. Both of you.”

“I don't need to see you making an idiot of yourself,” his dad said.

“We worked pretty hard on the music, Dad,” Jason said. “We've been practicing for a couple of months. I'd really like you to see it, even if it doesn't change your mind. Please?”

“Oh, George, maybe we should watch it,” Jason's mom said. “If he's worked so hard on it.”

His dad grunted. “Make it quick.”

“I'll show you.” Jason walked to the little computer table by the half-flight of steps that led up into the kitchen. He pulled up one of the videos—“First Road Out of Here”—and played it. He cranked up the speakers.

“That's too loud!” his dad said. “Turn it...down...”

Jason's parents gazed at the screen, mesmerized by the sound of the music flowing out.

“See?” Jason said. “People like it.”

His parents slowly stood and walked toward the computer, completely entranced.

“It's so sad,” his mother said.

“It's beautiful! Touching!” Jason's father choked up, clutching his heart. Jason wasn't sure his dad had ever used words like that before.

“Yeah, so you see why I need to go play this concert, right?” Jason said. “Everyone wants to see us. Mom? Dad? Are you listening?”

His parents were drifting closer and closer to the computer speakers, paying him no attention. It was creepy.

Jason paused the video. “So, can I go and play Saturday night?”

“What happened to the music?” Jason's dad asked.

“I want to hear more!” his mom said. “Right now, Jason!”

“Then tell me I can go play at the show.”

“Of course you can go and play.” Jason's father dabbed at his eyes with his handkerchief. “The world shouldn't have to go without music like that.”

“Okay...great!” Jason said. “Thanks!”

“Would you push 'Play'?” his mom snapped.

“Sorry!” Jason unpaused the video. “There you go.”

He watched his parents swaying to the music. His dad put an arm around his mom, and they swayed slowly together.

“So...I'll go tell Mitch, then,” Jason said.

They didn't reply. They didn't seem to hear him.

Jason shook his head and went upstairs.

“What's that music?” Katie asked as Jason passed her door. She was stretched out on her bed, reading
Darkwing Duck
comic books.

“It's nothing,” Jason said.

“Nah-uh. That's your music! Everybody's talking about it.”

“Oh,
everybody
is, huh?”

“Everybody on the innernet!”

“Wow. Okay, see you later, Katie.” Jason walked into his room and closed the door. A new, funky smell had infused his room since Grizlemor moved in.

“I'm hungry!” the goblin said from under his bed.

Jason knelt and lifted the comforter. Grizlemor lay on his bed, looking up from his book. He was surrounded by dirty spoons and empty cans: Beanee Weenies, Spaghetti-o's, chili.

“Why don't you clean up a little?” Jason asked. He gathered the cans into the trash bag he'd left under his bed for exactly that purpose.

“Take the trash bag with you when you go get me more food,” Grizlemor said. “It's getting full.”

“With no help from you.” Jason gathered up the sticky, dirty spoons. “Don't you have anywhere to live yet?”

“Sure do. Right here.” Grizlemor patted the carpet. “Nice place, too. Smells a bit like humans, but I'm taking care of that.”

“You really are,” Jason said. He stood up.

“Don't forget my food!” Grizlemor said.

“What do you want now?”

“Saltine crackers, topped with grape jelly, cheese, and cod liver oil.”

“Are you kidding?” Jason asked.

“Goblins never kid about food.”

Jason sighed. He took the dirty spoons downstairs and put them in the dishwasher. He glanced at his parents, who were both hunched over the computer screen, watching another video, their eyes glazed. He didn't bother trying to hide the bizarre crackers as he put them together for the goblin. His parents didn't even seem to know he was there. They were lost in the music.

In his room, he slid the plate under the bed. He heard Grizlemor gobble them down, and he was glad he didn't have to watch—the goblin's eating habits were the most disgusting he'd ever seen.

Jason took out his phone and looked at Erin's number, which had a snapshot of her smiling face beside it. He wanted to call her, but what could he say? She'd made her feelings perfectly clear.

He threw the phone aside and took out his guitar. His hands played how he felt, the lower three strings, filling the room with sadness.

Katie wandered in, drawn by the music. She sat at the foot of his bed and listened, and she gradually began to cry. Not sobbing or screaming like she usually did, but just slowly leaking tears from her eyes while she watched Jason play.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The instrument factory sang and chimed with some of the most beautiful sounds Aoide had ever heard. They bounced and echoed pleasantly from the brick walls, where the bricks were the assorted colors of a bag of gumdrops. Sunlight poured in from the skylights and the huge arched windows, all of which were open to catch the buttery breeze from the bakery next door.

Aoide and Rhodia followed Ladon, a male fairy with long green hair, a golden nose ring, and a serpent tattoo snaking up his neck. He had dragonfly-style wings.

“We've got everything you need,” Ladon said. “Visit the luthiers up here—” He pointed to where several fairies carved the pieces of a violin, working with slow, painstaking care. One of them had a violin string stretched taut between tall, glowing geodes. She sang a single long note to vibrate the string while it soaked in the pulsing light of the magic stones. Much of the work took place behind a tapestry, where brightly colored smoke rolled out while the enchanters cast their secret spells.

Neus and Skezg, the faun and the ogre, dragged behind them, watching young apprentice fairies cast spells over raw boughs and limbs, recently cut from trees and still damp.

“There's one very small issue,” Aoide said. “Our last instruments were stolen, so we don't exactly have the money saved up to buy new ones.”

“How much do you have?”

“Not much,” Aoide said.

“It's not a big deal,” Rhodia added, giving Ladon her most cheerful smile. “We've been playing in the park near Goblin Row for a hundred years, so we get the musicians' stipend from the Queen. Plus, we get a lot of gigs.”

“You want to buy four instruments on credit?” Ladon stopped walking and whirled around to face them. He wasn't grinning anymore. “All four?”

“That's okay, right?” Aoide smiled widely at him. “We're Guild musicians and everything.”

“If you weren't Guild musicians, the security spells would not have allowed you through the door,” Ladon said. “Guild musician or not, you can't buy anything without money. You'll have to talk to our finance department.”

“Oh, certainly,” Aoide said. “I'm sure everything will be fine.”

Ladon almost glared at her. “This way,” he said.

He led them away from the factory floor, up a spiraling staircase to a row of arched wooden doors on the second floor, each one of them a different color. A balcony ran in front of the doors, overlooking the fairy artisans below.

Ladon knocked on the red door, then opened it.

“Mr. Wimwinkle,” Ladon said. “We have some poor musicians trying to get instruments with no money.”

“That's not a very nice way to put it,” Rhodia said, and Aoide elbowed her to be quiet.

“Best of luck,” Ladon said icily, as he walked away.

“Good fortune to you, too!” Aoide called after him. Then she turned and looked into the office.

One wall of the office was full of pigeonholes. A gnome sat at the big desk, surrounded by stacks of scrolls, which he was sorting into the pigeonholes. From there, pigeons took the scrolls and flew up a chimney to deliver them around town.

The gnome wore a tall, cone-shaped red hat and a blue jacket. A nameplate on his desk read DWOBKIN WIMWINKLE. He stroked his long, white beard as he looked at Aoide, Rhodia, and Neus, as well as the big, orange-haired ogre squatting behind them.

“Well, I doubt this will take long,” the gnome said. “Come in, ladies. And gentleman. The ogre will have to stay out there, of course, there's no room.”

Skezg grunted and hunkered low to the floor.

Aoide, Rhodia and Neus entered and took the chairs facing the gnome. Wimwinkle arched his fingers in front of his lips and looked them over.

“What kind of loan do you need?” he asked.

“We need to replace our four instruments,” Aoide said. “My lute, Rhodia's harp, Neus' pipes and Skezg's drum.”

The gnome whistled.

“That's a lot of silver,” he said. “What do you have for collateral?”

“Not much,” Aoide said. “The Queensguard is holding our savings for, um, security while they search for our lost instruments. But we play at parties and clubs all over the city, and during the day we have the park by Goblin Row. So we have income.”

“And the Queen pays you the usual stipend for musicians who entrance the man-whelps?” the gnome asked.

“Every month,” Aoide said.

“But this month, you'll receive nothing,” the gnome said.

“Unless we have our instruments,” Neus said, blinking his goaty eyes.

“And would you please explain to me what happened to your last instruments?” Wimwinkle asked.

“They were stolen!” Rhodia said. “Can you imagine? What a horrible thing for someone to do!”

“How were they stolen?”

“From the park,” Aoide said.

“You saw it happen?”

“No, we were having a drink at the cafe,” Rhodia said. “Right across the street.”

“And you left your instruments at the park?”

“We do it all the time!” Rhodia said. She put her face in her hands, and her pink wings wiggled. “Nobody ever bothers them.”

“But this time, somebody stole them,” the gnome said. “So you want us to extend you a loan to buy instruments, knowing that you carelessly leave instruments out in a park near Goblin Row, where anyone who comes along might steal them?”

“We won't do it anymore! We promise,” Aoide said, and Rhodia and Neus nodded.

The gnome sighed and shook his head. “Given all you've told me, we couldn't possibly extend a loan for the full amount of the instruments. You'll need to come up with at least half, which I calculate to be...” He moved several beads on an abacus. “Five hundred silvers.”

“Where are we going to get five hundred silver coins?” Rhodia gasped.

“If we don't have instruments, then we can't earn the money to pay for them,” Aoide said.

“It's a real conundrum,” the gnome agreed. “Happily, it is not
my
conundrum to solve. Have a lucky day.”

“We're done?” Aoide asked. “Just like that?”

“Unless you have five hundred silvers, we have nothing left to discuss,” the gnome said.

“But...can't we just rent them?” Rhodia asked. “We have somebody searching for ours. We only need these for a little while.”

“Instruments cannot be rented!” the gnome gave Rhodia a stern look. “You should know that is against the rules of the Musicians' Guild. Each instrument adapts to its user. They cannot simply be passed from one player to another.”

“But some instruments can adapt to new players,” Aoide said.

“Take it up with the Guild,” the gnome said, waving them away. “Again I say, have a lucky day.”

“Have a lucky day,” Aoide mumbled. She stood up, her eyes stinging. She missed her lute terribly. She missed playing music. “Come on, everyone.”

They shambled out of the factory and down Queen’s Boulevard towards Goblin Row. Nobody spoke.

When they reached their usual park, Rhodia gasped. Another band had already moved in, fairies with flutes and bells and a banjo. A group of young humans danced inside the ring of mushrooms, their energy pouring out to recharge the magic of Faerie.