The side entrance of the Conservatory labeled ‘Offices’ led to a spiral staircase ascending the tower to lofty heights. Panting, they arrived at a reception area ringed with doors, four marked with Sages' nameplates and two left blank. A grander entrance bore an ornate plaque engraved with the words 'Keeper of Thrum: Clavis.’
Trevor knocked, and the door silently swung open. They stepped into an airy workspace, chaotically disorganized, and heaped with artifacts of every description. An ancient Chinese abacus shared space with a laser measure, slide rule, brass sextant, and graphing calculator. An ornate, jewel-encrusted sword leaned casually against the flared speaker of a gramophone.
Clavis's office extended above the city dome. The exterior wall was a thick, curved window that afforded an expansive view of busy sea life. A cozy seating area flanked an opulent oak desk, and a compact staircase tucked away in the back led to an upper floor. "I see you took the stairs," said Clavis observing the sweat on their brows, "May I suggest the portal on your way out? It's the door that says 'Exit.'"
Clavis ensured his bowtie was slightly askew and motioned for them to sit. "Now, please, tell me about your adventure."
Clavis listened intently as they recounted what had transpired in the Caverns. The three did not mention their snooping during the instrument’s creation and went right to the pirate confrontation.
"So, Knucks and Scribbs again," said Clavis, "I hear those names a lot lately. What on earth gave you the idea to go mucking about down there in the first place? Especially knowing those pirates are lurking about."
"We're so sorry, Mr. Clavis," said Trevor. "We didn’t know the Caverns extended beyond the city."
"Oh, I see," said Clavis. "The tremor we experienced yesterday knocked a few things down, including the warning signs at the Cavern entrance. Danny mentioned it, although he really should have known better than to have gone strolling down there alone."
"Is he okay?" asked Angus.
"Yes, he's perfectly fine," said Clavis. "Just exhausted and rather embarrassed, that's all. He is exceedingly grateful for your assistance."
The three grinned and sat a little taller.
"Please, do not wander off again! Especially in times like these,” Clavis cautioned sternly. “You scared the dickens out of me.” His expression softened. "I do, however, sincerely thank you for your heroic actions."
"Angus, Freyja asked me to send you to The Well immediately after our conversation. Veronica and Trevor, thank you again for helping Danny. Please take some time to recuperate in any of our sanctuaries. I hope to see you at the dance after dinner."
The door marked "Exit' teleported them directly to ground level.
"A lot easier than the stairs. How did we miss that on the way in?" remarked Angus.
“Hey Trevor, want to go to the market to see if there’s any new gear?” asked Veronica, “My first Persona is almost totally planned; I just need some shoes.”
"You go ahead," said Trevor, touching the little stone in his pocket. "I'm going to take a nap."
"A nap?" said Veronica. "Are those giant earlobes weighing you down?"
Trevor shook his head and laughed. "One day, that mouth of yours will get you into trouble."
"That is my goal," Veronica smiled broadly.
"I'm going to the Well to see what Freyja wants," said Angus. "See you at dinner."
***
Veronica went to the market, and Angus went to the Well, but Trevor did not go for a nap. Instead, he made his way to a sanctuary on the far edge of the city.
The isolated spot included a tiny garden of fragrant flowers, a fishpond, a music stand, chairs, and a concrete table. Sanctuaries were spelled to keep sound from leaving so people could hold Tune-ins or practice their instruments without fear of bothering others. This was also handy for what Trevor planned on doing.
He withdrew the crystal from his pocket and set it on the table.
"Wake up!" commanded Trevor.
The crystal sat there.
"You’re not dead," said Trevor. "I know you're in there. I can feel it. Come on, wake up!"
The crystal still didn't move.
Trevor rested his chin on the table with his nose inches from the crystal. He spun it, and it wobbled, being misshapen—still nothing.
"Awake!"
"Up ya get!"
"Rise and shine,"
Nothing.
Trevor closed his eyes and concentrated. He tried to remember what Concordia had said to Hamish when Click & Clack found him. Concordia hadn't said to talk aloud; she'd said to speak with his mind.
Please, little fella, thought Trevor. Awake.
To Trevor's delight, the crystal stirred, sparkled, and slowly transformed into a bassoon. A slightly bent bassoon.
Hi, little fella! What's your name?
The bassoon didn't reply in words, but Trevor felt emotion radiating from it, soooo sleepy. Its first materialization had been exhausting.
"Okay, little buddy," said Trevor. "Let's put you away for now so you can go back to sleep. I can't wait to get you a home at the jeweler and show you to my friends!"
Sleep, thought Trevor and the bassoon curled itself back into a marginally malformed crystal.
***
As Trevor and the bassoon enjoyed their first moments together, Angus met Freyja at the Well. She balanced, toes over the edge and eyes closed, meditating. Her incredibly long hair streamed out behind her, even though there wasn't a trace of a breeze.
Without looking at him, Freyja spoke. "Word of your heroic deeds has gotten around, Angus, and I thank you for saving my friend. Today, however, I wish to address another matter. You need to know about Creä and your mother."
"Isn't Creä that famous rockstar who went missing a long time ago?" asked Angus, standing beside her, "What on earth does she have to do with my mother?"
"Your mother was Creä," murmured Freyja, opening her eyes to regard him softly. “Very few people know this. She was a dear friend of mine."
Angus’s fingers tapped excitedly by his side.
"There's no way my mother was a rockstar!"
"I am very certain she was," said Freyja, "Your mother was not only a rockstar but one of the greatest composers in recent history. She was exceedingly private and kept her true face and personal life separate from her public musical career. It's not uncommon to have a stage Persona and otherwise live an ordinary life, like a superhero."
"Yes, Clavis told me about Personas," said Angus. I'm starting to understand. Going to the corner store or a restaurant would be tough if everyone knew who you were."
"A life of fame can be difficult," said Freyja as she turned to walk the brink of the Well and motioned for Angus to follow.
So, Tuner was right!
"I can't believe my mom was a rockstar!" said Angus, "Just wait until I tell my friends."
Freyja's expression sobered. "There's something else you must know."
Angus sighed as his fingers slowed to a slight twitch. Too good to be true.
"Your mother was involved in The Terrible Discord," said Freyja.
A mild tremor shook the ground, and a burst of colored embers sputtered from the Well.
"The Terrible Dischord?" asked Angus, "Never heard of it."
"I'm not surprised," said Freyja, "It's a time most of us would like to forget. Do you know the name 'Mendax'?"
"Not familiar," said Angus.
"Mendax was the previous Sage of Instruments before Tika," said Freyja. "About fifteen years ago, he deceitfully persuaded a group of talented musicians to leave with him and create the internet show called Vote for the Stars."
"I have heard of the show," said Angus, "I wasn't allowed to watch it. Was the main guy's name Lucas Wagner maybe?"
"Yes," said Freyja, "Mendax is Lucas's Persona. He doesn't show his Mendax Persona to the public, but it is well-known down here. Mendax, or Lucas, as you know him, split from the Guild of Thrum, choosing fame and wealth instead. He convinced many musicians, including your young mother, to sign complicated, binding contracts to perform on Vote for the Stars under the management of Wagner Records. They were so trusting and completely blinded by his charisma. Those we lost did not read the contracts carefully, if at all."
"I think I remember reading about Creä getting her start there."
"Yes," said Freyja, "She won the first season, and it launched her career. Others didn't fare so well, and we have yet to hear from them again. I don't know the contract details. Still, they gave absolute ownership of the musicians' careers to Lucas.
"Did my mom ever come back to Benthos?" asked Angus.
"None of them returned," said Freyja, "We do not know why, but I'm sure by now, most of them no longer hear Thrum and have moved on with their lives."
"How could anyone possibly pass on something like this?" exclaimed Angus gesturing to the city around them.
"The longer you stay away from a Thrum city," said Freyja, "the harder it becomes to resonate and feel the music. With time, some even forget altogether. We call this drifting out of tune."
"What, my mom somehow lost touch with Thrum?" said Angus.
"That's one way to put it," replied Freyja. "Your mother was trusting and desperately wanted people to like her, often at her own expense. She was a kind woman, kind to a fault."
Freyja reached into her pocket and withdrew a vial of liquid.
"As her son," said Freyja, "I believe you may have inherited some of her prodigious talents and, possibly, her weakness. I am going to give you this." She held the vial out to Angus. "It is an Elixir of Thrum. This substance is scarce and difficult to make. If you ever feel like you are losing touch, if the world is too heavy and you cannot make it back here in time, drink this, and it will give you clarity."
Angus accepted the gift, swirled the shimmering liquid, and slipped it into his pocket.
"This Lucas Wagner guy," said Angus. "What happened to him?"
"Lucas is still around. After five seasons of Vote for the Stars, he canceled the show and left the limelight. No one knows why, but we do know he is still alive. Avoid him at all costs."
Angus took her advice seriously.
"This topic is avoided amongst the people of Thrum, especially because he was in the position of Sage of Instruments," said Freyja. "I suggest you not discuss Creä, Mendax, or the Terrible Dischord publicly."
"I won't," said Angus, "It was embarrassing enough trying to sing the other day. I wouldn't want to offend people on top of that."
"Ah, yes," said Freyja, "about your voice. I suspect you are blocked, but I have no idea how or by whom. It is puzzling, but I will try to find out more."
"I don’t remember anything like that. Thanks for looking into it, though," said Angus, "and telling me about my mother."
"You are very welcome," Freyja smiled kindly. "I'll see you soon, my new friend."
Angus found his way to an unoccupied sanctuary to reflect in privacy. A few of the flowers softly fluted a simple greeting.
Freyja and Angus hadn’t noticed Betsey crouched in the bushes, absorbing every word.