Fairy Metal Thunder (Songs of Magic, Book 1)

by JL Bryan

  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.

  “That's our spot!” Rhodia said.

  “We can't claim it if we don't have our gear,” Neus said. “If we stop playing there, another band can take it. That's the law.”

  “Let's get a drink,” Skezg grumbled.

  They took a table at their usual cafe. A golden-haired fairy fluttered to their table and took their orders: rose nectar for Aoide, honeysuckle dew for Rhodia, thistle tea for Neus. Skezg ordered a cup of poison ivy broth.

  “What are we going to do?” Rhodia asked. “We can't play, we lost our spot. That elf and his unicorn better come back with our instruments, or we're sunk.”

  “If I e
ver find that thief...” Neus made a fist. “Pop! Right in the nose holes.”

  “I have to pay rent soon,” Aoide asked. “I don't know how I can make it.”

  “Guess what? They're hiring here!” the golden-haired fairy chirped as she delivered their four drinks in bell-shaped lilies. “All you need is a great attitude and a quick pair of wings! Oh, and the ability to work your tail off all day for practically nothing! Let me know if you want refills!” She fluttered away again.

  Aoide put her elbow on the table and rested her hand in her chin.

  “We don't get to play no more,” Skezg grumbled.

  “That's right. Everything depends on that crazy old elf,” Aoide said.

  They sat in silence for a few minutes. Then Aoide stood and walked inside the cafe building, up to the front counter, where the golden-haired fairy waved cheerfully.

  “Can I have one of those job applications?” Aoide asked.

  “Certainly!” the fairy chirped. She handed over a scroll.

  “Mind if I borrow your quill-and-ink?” Aoide asked.

  “As long as you don't carry it away! I hate when people steal my pen. It makes me violent!” the golden-haired fairy giggled.

  “Thanks.” Aoide picked up the long plume of the feather quill pen, dipped it in the little oyster-shell inkpot, and began to fill in the blank lines on the scroll.