Peace Piper

by Allie Burton

  Pacing back and forth, and back and forth, I wondered what would’ve happened if I had more time. If Aaron’s deadline wasn’t today and my mom’s life wasn’t on the line. My crushed heart tried to revive and pulse and beat. I knew I couldn’t risk waiting for Math to get home, confessing everything, and then him not having a solution.

  I had to do what Aaron demanded. When I stole the trumpet Math would never forgive me and I’d never see him again.

  My choices sucked. There really wasn’t a choice at all. Aaron had texted me twice again this morning, warning of Mom’s dire circumstances. Even making a deal with him, for Mom and my freedom was off the table. I needed Aaron to save Mom. And Mom and I would be in even bigger debt to Aaron. We’d never be free of the Order.

  “What’s wrong?” Ash came from the kitchen, taking a bite out of a waffle.

  Beside him was Antony. He glowered at me. No friendliness or concern. As if it was my fault they hadn’t retrieved the Isis package.

  “Nothing.” I bit my lip, knowing I probably appeared suspicious pacing the living room. “Do you know where Math went?” The question would seem normal. Maybe they’d think I was worried about him.

  “Why?” Ash got into my face.

  “What are you planning?” Antony’s dislike was palpable.

  “A surprise party.” I forced sarcasm into my tone.

  “Back off.” Ash pulled on Antony’s shirt. “Every girl isn’t out to sabotage you.”

  Antony shoved the rest of the waffle in his mouth. “Math mentioned something about retrieving a jewel.”

  Blood drained from my head and I felt dizzy. I stumbled onto the couch. It couldn’t be what I thought. Math couldn’t have gone back to the Society’s mansion to search for a jewel that didn’t exist. A lapis lazuli jewel I’d made up as an excuse to work with him. The pounding of my cracked heart formed anguished fissures. Fissures so deep the organ would never heal, never feel whole again. Math cared enough about me to search for the jewel, while I planned to stab him in the back.

  “Oh.” The only response I could come up with through my shock.

  “See ya later.” Waving, Ash opened the front door.

  “Ya, later.” Antony didn’t wave. He leered at me as if I were a criminal.

  I hated that he was right.

  The door banged shut behind them and I jumped.

  Only Aria, Olivia, and the professor were in the house. My legs moved like through sludge crossing to the kitchen and cutting through the guilt. I had a plan to steal the trumpet and now was the time to put it into action. The house would never be this empty.

  In the kitchen, I searched through the cabinets and pulled out a bottle of oil. With shaking hands, I placed a pan on the stove. I turned the flame to high and poured the oil in the pan. The oil heated and sizzled, scorching the pan and my soul. Tendrils of smoke rose. The smell of the burning oil filled the kitchen.

  Coughing, I poured more oil into the pan. The sizzling grew louder. Grey smoke filled the kitchen. The scent of burning oil stung my nose. I waved the smoke toward the smoke detector on the ceiling.

  Beeeeeeep.

  The loud-pitched alarm shattered the silent house and my already frayed nerves. Nerves on edge with success and failure. With determination and fear.

  I pushed open the kitchen door and let smoke pour into the hallway. “Fire! Fire!”

  Olivia ran out of the study. “What happened?”

  “I was cooking and the pan caught fire.” I faked a high-pitched panic into my voice. She would discover later it was a trick. For now I had to make it real.

  Her expression changed to panic. She waved at the smoke with trembling hands. “Get out of the house. We have to get everyone out of the house!” She ran back into the office and went right into the closet.

  Standing at the open door, I pumped my fist.

  “Fire! Everyone get out!” Olivia yelled into the not-so-secret basement. “Get out! Get out! Get out!”

  When I heard their footsteps, I hid behind a high-backed chair between the study and the kitchen. Chest thumping. Palms sweating. I had to make sure everyone left.

  Olivia was first out the study door. Her large eyes gleamed with terror. “Not again.”

  Remorse swatted me at how I’d taken advantage of one of her biggest fears. Math had told me about the fire at the warehouse, how Olivia had gotten trapped inside.

  Aria took Olivia’s hand. “It’s okay. Let’s leave.”

  “No one else is down there?” The professor’s gaze slid from the study, past my hiding spot, toward the kitchen.

  “Just Olivia and me.” Aria tugged Olivia toward the front door. “Where’s Piper?”

  “She should be outside already.” Olivia glimpsed around, searching for the flames.

  The professor closed the study door and followed Aria and Olivia out the front door. “I’ll call 9-1-1 from the cell phone.”

  My dark worries lifted, lightening my body. Everything was going according to plan. Seconds mattered. I only had a minute before they realized I wasn’t outside. They’d probably come looking. Because they were concerned about me or because they didn’t trust me?

  Didn’t matter.

  Rushing into the study, I took a deep breath and placed my palm on the bookshelf-door. I used my powers to open the sliding door and rushed down the stairs. Stopping to hold my hand out, I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the trumpet.

  I didn’t think about Math or let the guilt of my betrayal stop me. I did what I needed to do. For Mom.

  The tiny salve didn’t stop my aching. I might be stealing the trumpet to save Mom, but I knew it would help Aaron and the Order. The Order I now believed was guilty of poisoning Mom and was the enemy of Math and his brothers. I knew they’d never let Mom leave. Maybe I could leave alone if I brought them their prize.

  If I could save Mom’s life, she’d owe me a life of freedom. And I’d take it.

  The warming of my body signaled I’d sensed the trumpet’s presence. My veins expanded and flowed. The humming buzzed in my brain. Using my hand like a metal detector, I wheeled around slowly, waiting for the noise and the heat to increase.

  It did.

  I stepped in that direction. Followed the tug of the trumpet.

  The classroom I entered had bookshelves partially built and half-filled with history, science, and math textbooks. Tables were stacked against one wall. A newly-finished and not-stained closet door was at the far end of the room.

  My senses told me to search in there.

  I opened the closet door and flicked on the light. The closet was filled with boxes and crates. I followed my senses to a cardboard box near the back of the closet.

  When I touched the box, heat flared up my arm.

  Anticipation tingled. This was it.

  I ripped open the box and recognized the work shirt we’d wrapped the trumpet in. I unwrapped the shirt and touched the trumpet.

  My hand slid across the silver and music hummed from my palm to my chest. Silver shone and gleamed. The long horn stretched for a yard. Etched hieroglyphics decorated the flared end.

  No time to admire, I had to play. It was the only way to get past the others.

  Raising the trumpet, my arms shook. The silver instrument weighed heavier on my muscles and my mind. What would happen to me when I played? Would I become the pied piper? Would people fall asleep around me, and could I manipulate their minds?

  I didn’t want to know. I wouldn’t abuse the trumpet’s powers. I’d play to escape. Nothing more.

  I put the trumpet to my lips and blew.

  The harsh noise hurt my ears. I didn’t know how to play any musical instrument. What made me think I could pick up an ancient trumpet and play? Instead of putting people to sleep, I’d strain their eardrums.

  I blew harder and longer.

  The sound changed. Instead of the harsh screeching, now the tune was a sweet lullaby.

  A lullaby like no other. Which was the point. The only way
for me to sneak the trumpet out of the professor’s house was to put everyone to sleep. With my playing.

  Blowing in short spurts, I marched up the steps. I walked through the fake closet and into the professor’s study. The professor lay on the floor, his feet spread wide. He’d come searching for me, probably suspecting my guilt.

  Heat swamped me. Wave upon wave of guilt making me perspire.

  His wrinkled face was relaxed. His chest moved up and down. He wasn’t dead. Just asleep.

  I stepped over him and played into the kitchen. With one hand, I turned off the stove and dropped the burnt pan in the sink. I didn’t want the professor or anyone else to get injured.

  Playing back into the living room, I saw Aria and Olivia draped over the doorstep. Still in her pajamas, Aria lay more in the house than out. They appeared peaceful in sleep.

  I wallowed in my waves of guilt. They’d wake up confused and furious. They’d been good hosts, possibly future friends. With my theft, I was cutting any chance of friendship with them, and love with Math, off.

  Moving past them, I left the door open and headed down the front steps. I kept playing. I didn’t want them waking up and chasing me down. How many other folks, neighbors or people strolling by, were affected? I didn’t know and I didn’t want to know.

  Blame bombarded me, resembling the blasts of the horn. My ears hurt and tears burned in my eyes.

  I only stopped playing when I stood by the car I’d parked yesterday.

  Choosing saving my mother over Math and his lofty goals of goodness and light and love froze the blood in my veins and chilled everything inside. No matter what choice I made, I knew I’d end up with a broken heart.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Math

  Math heard footsteps approaching the elaborate bedroom he currently searched in the Society’s mansion. Stilling, he peered around the room, looking for a place to hide.

  The platform bed had no space to hide underneath. Metal bars covered the window. The desk opened toward the main section of the room.

  His gaze landed on the closed closet door. It was a dumb place to hide. It was his only choice.

  The bedroom door’s handle turned.

  His gut turned, too. He dashed to the closet, opened the door only wide enough for him to fit through, and snicked the door closed.

  Math held his breath and crouched under the white robes hanging from the rod. He’d searched the grand living room, the study, and other bedrooms of the house searching for the jewel belonging to Piper’s mother.

  He wanted to please her. To cheer her dour expression. Since returning to the professor’s house, Piper had been acting strangely, not that he’d seen her much. She’d said her mom was doing okay, except her voice had cracked and her eyes appeared red from crying.

  Disappointment weighed on his mind. He’d wanted to find the lapis lazuli jewel belonging to Piper’s mother. He knew the missing jewel was important to Piper and her family. Since she’d helped him find the Trumpet of Peace, he wanted to do something for her.

  Who was he kidding? He wanted to do everything for her.

  A simple smile from her lightened his mood. When she touched him, he felt on fire. And her kisses drove him mad. He groaned, knowing he had it bad.

  He’d risked everything—his anonymity, the Warriors’ secrecy, the location of the trumpet—by stopping by her uncle’s pawn shop to ask about the jewel. Uncle Louie said he’d never heard of a family jewel or knew of its presence in the trumpet’s case. He’d probably lied.

  Quiet footsteps paced in front of the closet, mumbling about the Magical Order of Crucis, the stolen trumpet, and cursing someone named Aaron.

  Math’s stomach wavered with the pacing. His mind automatically calculated the length of the steps by the distance between the paces. An adult male.

  Math had taken too long to search the room. The entire mansion, really. He’d wanted to rip the entire house apart, so strong was his desire to do something for Piper. To show her how much he cared. He never should have come. Now, he was stuck in a closet with the very real possibility he could be caught by one of his enemies.

  An enemy that wanted the Trumpet of Peace.

  A trumpet that hadn’t been neutralized yet.

  His fault. Falcon had gotten the final item needed to reunite the two trumpets. But Math’s need to do this one thing for Piper had delayed the process.

  Out of habit, he measured the distance of the closet with his eyes. The bedroom stuck out over the ocean on the top floor of the house. The location should’ve made the closet bigger. Possible architectural drawings and math formulas appeared in his mind. He wondered if he knocked on the stucco if he’d find a false wall. Not that he would, because he’d be heard by the person in the room.

  A text buzzed on his phone. He froze for a second, wondering if the person in the bedroom could hear. The man didn’t change his pacing.

  Math checked the message from Olivia. Emergency at the professor’s house. Come now.

  The swaying in his stomach swirled like a sandstorm in the desert. His mouth went dry. Was Piper okay?

  He had to get back. He’d wasted too much time searching for Piper’s mom’s jewel. He should’ve been with Piper.

  Pressing his ear to the door, he listened for the man. He calculated the rate of speed and the distance traveled before turning. The man should pace in front of the closet door in three…two…one.

  Bang!

  Math plowed into the door using pure brawn to blow the door off its hinges. The door slammed into the man, knocking him to the ground. Using his agility, Math jumped over the door and to the window.

  The door lay on top of the man. He screamed and yelled. His yelling would catch the attention of others in the house.

  Math heaved a quivering breath, upset with his unsuccessful mission. He had to get out of the mansion now. He swept aside the curtains at the window and gripped metal bars in each of his hands. The bars’ structure was weak from being manipulated by Falcon when he’d rescued Aria from this very room. Math didn’t need as much muscle to bend the bars a second time. The Society should’ve replaced the bars instead of fixing them.

  The man pushed the door off of him. “Stop! Intruder!”

  Ignoring him, Math jumped onto the ledge of the window, took one last glance around the bedroom, and leapt to the ground three stories below.

  As he was flying through the air, he heard the man yell, “I’ll get you, Soul Warrior.”

  * * *

  Math hurried to the professor’s house, trying to be discreet about using his abilities. He didn’t want the entire world to know about him. One of the members of the Society had already recognized him for what he was. A Soul Warrior.

  He couldn’t worry about the consequences now. His only thought was to get back to Piper.

  Barging into the house, he noticed the smell first. A greasy, burnt smell. The air clouded with a light, grey smoke, even though the windows were open, letting in a cool breeze. The professor lay on the couch. Aria and Olivia sat in chairs, a dazed expression on their faces. Falcon stood by Aria.

  Halting, Math appraised the situation. “What happened?”

  “Your friend set a smoke fire.” Aria sounded more hurt than accusatory, as if she’d trusted Piper, too.

  It took a second for the word friend to register. He didn’t think of Piper as a friend. “Where’s Piper?” His first and his last thought was for her. “Is she okay?”

  “She’s gone.” Olivia’s voice was raw. “Piper took the Trumpet of Peace.”

  Blackness overcame him. Denial rose to his tongue. “No.”

  “We woke up from unconsciousness.” When Olivia stood, her body wavered. She stepped toward him with a doomed expression.

  Concern for his friends tugged at him, yet he couldn’t stop the bit of hope. “From the fire?”

  “That’s not what the firemen said when they checked us out.” The professor’s worn face appeared even more tired. He spoke with q
uiet authority. “They arrived about the time we woke up.”

  Math shook his head violently, disbelief screaming in his brain. “No.”

  “Piper spotted the fire. I told her to get out and then yelled for Aria and Professor York. We thought she was already outside.” Olivia placed a hand on Math’s shoulder.

  The touch didn’t give him comfort. Everything had gone cold inside.

  “When we realized Piper wasn’t out of the house,” the professor continued the story, “we headed back inside. I heard a screeching noise and don’t remember anything else until we woke up and the firemen ran in.”

  Olivia squeezed his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Math.”

  “No.” If he kept repeating the word, maybe it would become truth. Piper wouldn’t do something so treacherous. She wouldn’t hurt his friends. Hurt him. “The trumpet. Piper didn’t know where the trumpet was hidden.”

  But she could sense it.

  Giving them one last glare, he rushed through the study and into the basement. He tore into the classroom and grabbed the box where the trumpet was hidden.

  Empty.

  The box was empty.

  Empty like his soul.

  He tipped the box upside down and shook, hoping the trumpet would appear like a simple magic trick.

  No such luck.

  His skin wanted to leap off his body. His midsection cramped. All the research and work. All the effort. Wasted.

  And Piper gone.

  Footsteps pounded down the steps. Olivia, Aria, and Falcon stood at the bottom, staring at him with expressions of anxiety, fear, and sympathy.

  “It’s gone. The Trumpet of Peace is gone.” Math’s own voice hollowed. “Piper could sense the trumpet. She must’ve taken it.”

  “Piper doesn’t know about the secret basement.” Falcon’s tone rose. His mouth flattened into a thin line. “Does she?”

  “She found the basement last night.” Math felt as if a fist had wrapped around his heart and squeezed. He couldn’t breathe.

  Pinpricks of sharp torture speared him. He’d seen warning signs. Her secretiveness about her mom. Her forgetting about the important family jewel. Uncle Louie not knowing anything about a jewel. Piper being evasive last night.