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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.

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essica Hoshi was just about to disembark from the ship when she saw them. Three men emerged from the fog. She shrank back, looking from side to side for her friends. Alanna and Shannon watched the men approaching. Cici looked around for the other girls, still holding the Lantern.

The men wore rather unfriendly expressions. Alanna was relieved to notice they seemed unarmed, at least for the moment. Cici noticed her Lantern was now cycling between a purplish glow and its normal color.

They reached the edge of the dock. One of the men was short and heavy. The other two were taller and thinner.

Alanna tried to put on a serious expression, even though she was so nervous she could scarcely breathe. She clutched the jewelry box with both hands, trying to think of a way to hide it.

One of the men muttered something under his breath and produced a small dull black stone. All of the girls backed up a few steps and Cici pushed her way to the front. At the age of nine, Cici’s bravery was much surer than her words, so she just frowned at them.

The lenses of her Lantern were no longer cycling colors. Now they were all glowing a deep purple color.

Another man emerged from the fog. He looked considerably more confident than the first three. He carried a heavy club in one hand.

“Noret!” Clenick exclaimed.

“We’ll take possession of the Chronicler’s Lantern now,” Noret said with a crooked grin.

“Jessie…” Cici started. Nobody answered. Cici looked around quickly and noticed Jessica and all of the other girls had vanished!

“If I were you, I’d concern myself with survival over what scraps you might pilfer from a band of runaways.” It was a woman’s voice, and the shocked, surprised look on one of the men’s faces gave Cici a chill. He looked positively terrified.

“Impossible,” Noret whispered.

“Patience is my most formidable weapon, betrayer.” The woman began to advance very slowly towards the men, picking each few steps by planting the end of her ancient-looking staff on the dock. The black bird on her shoulder glared with dark eyes at Noret. “And what I pursue, I catch.”

“Who is this… this vagabond?” the fat man gestured towards the robed woman with an incredulous expression.

“Gentlemen, may I present her Excellency, the Vicereine of Kulnas,” Noret made a rude sweep of his hand that exacerbated the sarcastic tone of his voice. Reina simply stood and waited, not reacting at all to Noret’s disrespectful address.

“You can’t harm me, Excellency.” Noret said. “There are certain people who would be most displeased if I am deprived of what is mine.”

“Save your boasts. I’ve had plenty of time to prepare for your return, and if you’re referring to your mysterious ‘contact’ in Escator, you’ll be interested to know the Topaz Sparrow has a price on your head. In fact, they offered to double it if I saw to the matter personally.”

The other men glanced at each other with increasingly nervous expressions.

Continue to Chapter Twelve