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Wolf’s Music Store was nearly as familiar to Jessica as her own front yard. She spent many a day haunting Mr. Wolf’s collection of manuscripts, dusty old music theory books from centuries ago, and of course the amazing collection of instruments he had accumulated from some 50 years as proprietor of the town’s only music shop.

He had managed to keep the family business going even after the passing of his beloved wife nearly ten years ago, but every summer there were rumors of him closing the music store and retiring. The many band members could have gone elsewhere for their supplies and repairs, but institutions like Wolf’s Music are not easily given up, especially when two of the regional powerhouses of musical performance dwelt nearby: the Tree Shores and Rockfield marching bands, specifically.

When the first rumors of Wolf’s closing began to circulate, a mighty wave of charity took hold of the students of both music programs and long-standing rivalries gave way to one of the most tremendous outpourings of good will in the town’s memory. Hundreds upon hundreds of students from both schools descended on the small shop and went to work. Walls were painted. The floor was replaced. New racks and display cases were installed, and the other Fairweather businesses all chipped in and commissioned the construction of a magnificent floor to ceiling bookcase at the far end of the store’s gallery for Mr. Wolf’s piano rolls, manuscripts and books.

In the interval of scarcely a month, an old man’s shop became the showpiece of the entire street, and with nearly a thousand student musicians between the two fine arts programs, including symphonic bands, orchestra and marching bands, there was no shortage of business. Some of the students who graduated stayed on as assistant managers and employees of the shop, since Mr. Wolf wasn’t able to do as much of the lifting and climbing as he used to.

Jessica ran first to the parlor door, but several music stands were blocking the door, so she ran to the front door, but the blind was pulled and the ‘CLOSED’ sign was up.

“Workshop!” Jessica exclaimed as she dashed around to the side alleyway. She heard the familiar sound of a metal hammer and saw the workshop door was open. She ran up and landed in the doorway on both feet at the same time.

“Hi, Mr. Wolf!”

The man looked up and over his half-framed glasses. He was holding a french horn bell in one hand and a small rounded hammer in the other. Wisps of gray hair surrounded his bald head, and his round face was that of a pleasant sage whose eyes still held the glimmer of wonder.

“Aha!” Mr. Wolf said. “Wait now, let me see. . .” He carefully put the bell and hammer down on the soft felt pad on his workbench and took off his glasses.

“Jackie. No, Jessie!” He let his fist fall into his open hand as Jessica beamed. “Now what did I do with that horn?” He slowly walked over to the wooden shelves next to the workbench and examined them. “Alto saxophone…” Of course, Jessica had spotted her case the moment she got to the doorway, but she would never rush Mr. Wolf. He was half the reason any of the kids instruments functioned at all on any given day. ‘Reverence’ would have only begun to describe how the band members felt about Mr. Wolf and his shop.

“Here we go,” he said, pulling the rounded black case down from the third shelf. “All set. Rebalanced the high ‘D,’ low ‘B’ and ‘B-flat’ keys, repadded and installed new springs and recorked the neck.”

“Ooh, goody,” Jessica said, placing the case on the bench and opening it. She expertly extracted the saxophone from the case, pulled the keyguard and installed the neck. She stood it upright and placed her fingers on the keys, looking around the side of the instrument as she worked all of them to test the action.

“The high ‘D’ is much better. It’s not clicking now, and it’s more even, huh?”

“Well, let’s see here…” Mr. Wolf pointed at the parts of the saxophone as he spoke. “Half of the cork on the rocker base was missing, and the other half had water damage,” Mr. Wolf said, putting his glasses back on and peering at the high-voice side keys. “Glued a new cork on it and tightened up the frame. Better than new.”

“It’s super neat!” Jessica listened to the “thup-thup-thup-thup-thup” sound of the keys closing as she closed them in cascades, then let them open over and over again. The sound was much crisper than before. “I love it when I get to overhaul my horn. It always sounds better then. Thanks Mr. Wolf! You’re the best!” Jessica took the saxophone apart and replaced the keyguard, then gently set it back in its case.

“Those pads might be a little leaky for a week or so, but they’ll break themselves in.” Mr. Wolf said, sitting down on the stool and picking up his french horn project again.

“It’s our first day! Gotta go to band practice! Bye Mr. Wolf! See you soon!” Jessica said as she hurried back up the alley, saxophone in tow. Mr. Wolf waved and adjusted his glasses as he turned his attention back to his work. Jessica heard the metal tapping again as she turned the corner back on to Fairweather Street.

Continue to Chapter Seven

Chapter List

eina placed the shining gold lantern upright next to Shadebane. The light from the Lantern illuminated the side of the gully nicely. By now Cici was sitting up and rubbing her face with her hand, only succeeding in adding another layer of dirt.

“I am called Reina. What is your name?”

“I’m Cici. How come you wear so many rings?” Cici asked quietly, pointing at Reina’s hand while still rubbing her nose. Then she sniffled again.

“Because I like to collect beautiful things,” Reina replied, impressed by Cici’s inquisitiveness. “Do you like this ring, Cecilia?” she asked. Cici nodded, eyes wide. Reina indicated a heavy gold ring on her right hand set with a nearly transparent delicately faceted blue stone and decorated with a dozen smaller white gems.

“This ring is called the Soaring Chime. It was given to me long ago by a Scribe named Giho skilled in the arts of gemcutting. He lives on an island in a place called the Princesses Crowns far away in the Eastern Sea. There are men there who dig deep into the mountains to find raw stones such as this one. Giho spends years cutting and shaping them into Chimes. Chime stones can make sounds with magical properties.”

“What’s magical properties?” Cici asked, enthralled.

“It means this stone can ring, and the sound from it can heal your injury,” Reina replied. “Will you help me make the Soaring Chime ring?”

“Can I?” Cici asked.

“Look carefully at the stone,” Reina said, offering her hand so Cici could see. “Do you see the upper edge? Where the tiny symbol is carved into the gold?”

Cici looked carefully and saw that the edge of the setting just above the oval-shaped sky-blue stone had a tiny symbol carved into the polished gold. If Reina hadn’t mentioned it, Cici would never have noticed.

“All you must do is tap that symbol with your finger as if you are trying to make a bell ring,” Reina said. “Then, listen for the sound.”

Cici peered at the stone and the tiny symbol, then reached up with her hand and held her finger over the ring for a moment. Then she flicked her hand, tapping the edge of the ring with her finger as if testing something she had been told was very hot.

A soft and faint glow appeared in the center of the stone and Cici began to hear the sounds of chimes and bells all around her. First one, then a second. They began to play cascades of three tones, then five. Then ten. It sounded like someone drawing a stick along a series of bells, each one larger than the one before it, making a luxurious sound like the playing of all the strings of a harp from smallest to largest.

Cici looked at her foot and was startled by the greenish swirl of energy around her ankle. She saw a pale blue glow along the outer edge of her hand where she had been cut, and a silver shower of sparkling energy around the bruise on her knee. Her ankle felt much better. The music was so beautiful that Cici didn’t want it to end. All of her wounds and bruises were healed, and the music faded peacefully along with the glow of the ring’s power.

“It’s magic just like my Lantern! Are you a magician?” Cici asked.

Reina looked away. The sudden movement frightened Cici, who looked apprehensively into the darkness of the damp forest and saw nothing. Just as suddenly, Reina turned back and spoke in an urgent, whispery tone.

“When I have gone, you and your sisters will have these treasures to protect you. The Amethyst Lens of Time will release the others. Speak the phrase ‘Spectrum Deflect’ to call upon the power of the Chronicler’s Lantern in times of danger.”

Cici’s heart pounded.

“This is a map to the Lockvern. You will find an iron gate in a deserted vale along the road south. The key to the gate is inside. In the Lockvern, you will be tested. Examine all things. Do not be foolishly brave. Trust your knowledge. When you gather again, you will know what you must to defeat evil.”

Reina desperately pulled at her staff, shaking as she attempted to stand. She whimpered as she reacted to what must have been a wracking spasm of pain as she placed one foot flat underneath her. She exhausted herself rising to a point where she could shakily stand on both feet. Cici watched her with a concerned expression.

Her eyes looked so strong. What’s the matter with her?

“Excellency!” a voice called. “Excellency!”

Reina did not look. Cici stood. A moment later a young man appeared at the top edge of the gully carrying his own lantern.

“Do not follow, Enken!” Reina shouted. “Ride for Branven and wait for word!”

“But Vicereine– I..”

“Do as I say!”

The sharpness and authority in Reina’s voice made both Enken and Cici jump in shock. The Vicereine turned away from them both. Her robes billowed as a cool breeze drifted past, carrying tiny ice crystals. Cici shivered. Reina pushed a rolled piece of leathery fine parchment backwards into Cici’s hand as if trying to hide it. It was bound with a gleaming silver circular band emblazoned with the symbol of a fanged skull.

“I suppose you have a melancholy anecdote for us?” Reina asked, appearing to speak into the darkness to no one.

“A caterpillar was crawling through a wood, entertaining thoughts of becoming a butterfly, until a spider blocked her way.” The low velvety sound of a man’s voice floated from the darkness as he stepped out of the shadows.

Cici froze, looking out from behind Reina’s robes. The rattling and galloping sounds of a speeding horse-drawn carriage clattered through the darkness above.

Continue to Chapter Sixteen