Trevor happily tripped to the jeweler to have his instrument set. When he arrived, he found Krampis hunched over a jewel-encrusted Viking helmet.
"Hello again," Krampis straightened. "Let me guess, your first instrument found you? Why aren't your friends along?"
"I wanted to surprise them. They don't know it happened yet," said Trevor.
"Ah, how delightful," Krampis smiled. "Well, let's see what you've got."
Trevor set his crystal on the counter. Krampis examined the crystal with a loupe, emitting many "hmms" and "ahs.” After several moments he lifted his head.
"You seem to have a crystal that's, well, a little misshapen," said Krampis. "It is unique; not everyone would find it appealing, but I think you might have something special here."
Trevor breathed a sigh of relief, having expected to hear that it was impossibly defective.
"Is there a jewelry type you were interested in?" asked Krampis.
"I kind of like this black metal wristband," Trevor pointed to an item hanging on the wall.
"I'm afraid we can't use a prefabricated piece because of the stone's irregularity," Krampis explained. "Tell you what I'll do. I will make you a custom piece, similar to the black wristband, but you’ll have to leave your instrument with me."
"How long will that take?" asked Trevor.
"I would think around a day. This will be challenging, but I can do it by 9 a.m. tomorrow.”
"Thanks," said Trevor. "I appreciate it."
"You're welcome," Krampis smiled. "I like doing special things for special Instruments."
As Trevor left, he turned, looked at the crystal, and thought bye, little buddy. I'll see you tomorrow morning.
***
Getting ready for the big dance was fun. The residence’s front desk clerk had shown Angus a surprisingly large selection of ‘ordinary’ clothing and encouraged him to choose anything. He selected a deep purple shirt and black jeans. Angus pulled a comb through his hair, carefully arranging it to cover his blue left eye. He even applied a little cologne from the toiletry basket.
On arrival, Angus politely stopped to greet Clavis and Concordia but avoided Dionis's vicinity. He found Hamish and Adora at their customary table and sat.
Adora wore a flowing yellow dress that was simple yet striking. Hamish had tucked a blue and white dress shirt into his jeans, showing off the new belt buckle, and let his glossy black hair hang loose, falling nearly to his waist.
Veronica traipsed in unenthusiastically. She wore a black sweater and her usual plaid school uniform kilt but had taken the time to apply black eyeliner. Finally, Trevor arrived in a crumpled green T-shirt and frayed jeans.
"I'm feeling a little underdressed," Trevor muttered, attempting to smooth the wrinkles.
"Naw," said Veronica. "There are other people wearing T-shirts, don't worry. Dressing up is overrated anyway."
"What have you been up to?" asked Angus.
"Nothing much," said Trevor with a secretive grin.
"About dancing," said Angus. "How do you… well... do it?"
"Just move to the music," said Adora. "It's a bit like the martial arts we were doing with Horace."
"What are the moves, though? What order do they go in?"
"This kind of dance, just do what you want," said Adora. "Whatever feels right."
"You don't have to dance, Angus," Veronica leaned back in her chair. "I'll be hanging out here at the table all night."
After dinner, the Grand Dome transformed into a glittering ballroom. The center tables were moved aside, revealing brilliant corals and tiny fish flickering beneath a crystalline floor. A fabulous lineup of top-notch acts maintained a high-energy groove as kaleidoscopic concert lighting splashed color over a mob of gyrating dancers.
Hamish and Adora spent most of the evening on the dance floor. Trevor joined in whenever one of his favorite songs was played, but Angus and Veronica remained at the table.
Angus couldn't keep his eyes off the dancers. He found it hypnotic and primal. Eventually, he mustered the courage to try when a song with a strong, simple rhythm came on.
"I think I'm going to give it a shot," said Angus to Veronica. "You up for it?"
Veronica shook her head. "No, you go ahead, Mr. Tappy Toes,"
Angus approached the dance floor, where Adora, Trevor, and Hamish greeted him warmly. He tried to copy what everyone else was doing but moved awkwardly, bumped into Trevor, and almost tripped over his own feet.
"Stop trying to copy everyone else," said Adora in his ear. "Just close your eyes and listen to Thrum."
Angus did as instructed; he relaxed and listened, waiting for his body to react. Initially, he was reserved, merely rocking from side to side, but gradually began to move his arms, finally making complete steps and spins.
The song ended, and Angus opened his eyes. Adora, Hamish, and Trevor stared in disbelief.
"That was amazing!" said Adora. "How on earth did you do that?"
Angus shrugged his shoulders, "I just moved to the music. I didn't do anything special."
"Well, you certainly looked pretty cool," said Trevor.
The band began a funky hip-hop song, and Angus decided to keep going. The stick from the Well, which he carried in his pocket like a good-luck charm, jabbed him uncomfortably, so he held it in his right hand, closed his eyes, and danced.
The crowd began to dance with Angus. He raised his left hand, and everyone followed. He took a step, and they stepped with him. The dance evolved into a massive flash mob. Even Veronica dropped her guard and joined the synchronized masses. Angus's eyes were closed the whole time, which was a shame, as it was a sight to behold.
When the song ended, the crowd exploded in applause. Angus opened his eyes and realized they were cheering for him.
"How did you do that?" bellowed Trevor, trying to be heard above the roar. "That was the coolest thing ever!"
"AN-GUS, AN-GUS, AN-GUS!" the crowd chanted, fists pumping. Clavis and Concordia swiftly approached him with puzzled looks on their faces. Concordia raised her hand, and the voices hushed.
"Angus," said Clavis, "Do you mind if I look?"
Angus realized he was still holding the stick from the Well and handed it to Clavis.
"Ahhhh, I see," said Clavis as the crowd looked on, "This is not just a stick. It is a conductor's baton. You are very young for a conductor's baton to have found you. When did this happen?"
"It stabbed right through my hand when I fell in the Well," said Angus.
"MOP HEAD!" someone yelled from the crowd.
Clavis ignored the heckler, "How interesting. Concordia, this is more your area of expertise. Can you take a look?"
Concordia scrutinized the baton, "Incredible. No question about it; this is Beethoven's baton. It went missing when he passed away. His favorite spot to sit was by the Well; if I remember correctly, that is where he died. It must have slipped from his hand at the very end."
Several people leaned in to get a better look.
"What does a baton do?" asked Angus.
"It depends on the baton," said Concordia. "All batons let the wielder control people around them if they are willing participants. Beethoven's baton has unique abilities that you will discover in time. You are fortunate, Angus. Very lucky, indeed."
"Why doesn't the baton talk to me like Hamish's spoons?" asked Angus.
"A conductor's baton is not an Instrument." said Concordia, handing it back, "It can't talk to you because it isn't an entity unto itself. A baton is a direct conduit to Thrum."
"Like a phone?" asked Angus.
"Far more than a phone," said Concordia, "It lets you mentally connect with everyone around you at once and everyone to you."
The crowd had settled, and a new band took the stage.
"Should I go to the jewelry shop and get a setting for it?" asked Angus.
"No, Batons do not have a crystal form. You can, however, store it in your watch along with your Personas."
"We should leave you be," said Clavis, "It looks like you've earned some fans. I have a feeling you impressed quite a few people."
Clavis and Concordia said their goodbyes, Angus returned to the table, and the dance continued.
Angus had never been the center of attention. He lapped it up and felt like he was on cloud nine. People high-fived him, slapped him on the back, hugged him, complimented him, and told him how fun it was to dance under his lead. Even the older kids praised him, and one girl, at least two years older, approached him and introduced herself as Elise.
Elise Bisset was known for her intelligence and profound musical talent. She was also beautiful. When she asked Angus to dance, heads turned.
The band played 'The Blue Danube,' a commonly known traditional waltz. To Angus, it was new. Attempting to follow Elise's basic instructions, he stepped on her toes, punched himself on the chin, and almost fell over. Elise looked at him with concern, and he tried again. They bumped heads and laughed.
Angus calmed himself, recalling Horace's mention of anticipating where an opponent or partner would be next. He closed his eyes again and listened to the music, 1,2,3...1,2,3...1,2,3. From then on, Elise and Angus glided across the floor as one.
"Angus," asked Elise in her lilting French accent. "I heard a rumor that you saved a composer from being kidnapped in the Caverns?"
"Well, I was there, but my friends did most of the work," replied Angus.
"That's not quite the version of the story that I heard. They say you danced around those thugs and kicked one in the face." said Elise, "You know, one of the loveliest things a man can do is dance."
"Um... thanks, I guess," Angus blushed and quickly changed the subject. "Your accent sounds familiar, like people from Quebec but slightly different."
"That's because I'm from Millau," said Elise, "a small town in the south of France."
"Oh, Europe!" said Angus. "I've never been there. I'd love to visit Europe one day."
"Perhaps you can visit me." Elise winked as the song ended. "Thank you for the dance." She made an exaggerated curtsey and then floated back to join her giggling friends.
Angus returned to his companions, and Adora stared at him as if mesmerized.
"When it rains, it pours." Angus smiled to himself.
"Looks like Angus is going all soft on us," said Veronica. "I wouldn't be surprised if you gave the pirates a rose next time."
Trevor and Hamish gave him a ribbing and laughed.
All good things must come to an end. Zach, Bill, and Clem arrogantly sauntered up to the table.
"Getting a little friendly with the French lady, are you?" sneered Zach. "Too bad she's about to find out who your father is."
He pointed in Elise's direction, where Betsey had installed herself, speaking animatedly. Suddenly, Elise's expression transformed into a look of horror. She glanced agape at Angus, then turned to her friends. They all glowered at Angus in disgust. Like a virus, Angus could see the rumor travel around the room.
"What did you tell her?" snapped Angus at Zach. "What's this about my father? I don't even know who my father is!"
"Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news," said Zach sarcastically, "but your father is Lucas Wagner, otherwise known as Mendax."
"You're lying!" cried Angus. "There's no way that's true!"
"I'm afraid it's quite true… birth certificates don't lie, and I saw it with my own eyes", Clem announced as Zach and Bill laughed.
Angus absorbed the looks of disgust aimed in his direction. Overwhelmed by nausea and panic, he bolted from the Grand Dome and blindly raced away. Zach beamed with pride in the Grand Dome and strutted to his band’s table.
"Did you see the look on his face?" gloated Zach. "That's the look of someone who messed with Skull Flame!"
Veronica marched up, kicked him hard in the shin, and snarled, "Get a haircut, you sack of turds."
Zach hopped in pain as Veronica stormed off.
"I'll get you for that!" Zach cried out, but his words were lost in the music.
Angus aimlessly walked about the city avoiding anyone he saw, which wasn't hard as it was very late. The bioluminescent creatures had all swum away, and only the occasional lamp lit the pathways, creating lots of flickering shadows. His eyes were red from crying, but at this point, sadness had turned into slow-burning anger. He wondered if the dance was still going on and felt stabs of pain every time he pictured people whispering about him.
Why is everyone mad at me? I had nothing to do with the Terrible Dischord, but they acted like it was my fault.
Angus passed the Conservatory and gazed at the massive spiraling tower, wondering if Clavis was still awake. Part of him wanted to talk to his mentor, but another felt resentful.
Why didn't Clavis tell me Mendax was my father? He should have warned me!
He picked up a rock and thought about throwing it at one of the ornate stained-glass windows.
Well, maybe he didn't know, the rational side of his brain told him. Maybe Zach and his friends just happened to figure it out on their own, and what if it wasn’t even true?
Zach, that jerk! Angus's hand clenched around the stone so hard his knuckles turned white. If I had an Instrument, I'd cast every spell ever made on him, but I wouldn't kill him. I'd make sure that he was wide awake and felt every drop of pain I'd inflict on him.
Angus sobbed in helpless frustration. He dug through his red backpack and retrieved two items. He looked at the vial that contained Thrum's elixir in his right hand. Maybe I need to drink this so I can get closer to Thrum.
Then he considered the Sordino bell in his left hand. I could always ring this and forget that Thrum, Zach, and this stupid city ever existed.
Then, a third option presented itself when something shiny caught his eye. A small spider-like robot emerged from the bushes, its metallic feet tapping on the pavement. The tiny device focused on Angus with glowing blue eyes and beckoned him to follow with its front legs.
Under ordinary circumstances, Angus would hesitate before approaching a strange robot. Still, this night, all caution was thrown to the wind. He followed the thing, stopping when it darted into the bushes every time a rare late-night stroller crossed their path.
"Are you hiding from people too?" whispered Angus.
The metal insect nodded with its whole body, then pointed to the archway of a sanctuary.
"You want me to go into a sanctuary?" Angus asked and received a vigorous nod from the robot.
I’m going into a place where no one will hear me scream if it attacks me, he thought as he walked in, not even leaving his initials in chalk.
The sanctuary’s tiny singing denizens abruptly fell silent, which was a little disconcerting. The space was relatively large, with six cement benches facing a small concrete platform. An aisle ran between the benches, reminding Angus of an outdoor church.
The little robot clacked to the platform and motioned for Angus to sit in the front row. As he sat, the insectile eyes flickered and projected a fuzzy holographic image, similar to Tuner’s, that resolved into sharp focus on the stage.
"Hello, Angus," said a deep, charismatic voice, "I have been looking for you for so long, and if you are listening to this message, I must have found you." The projection zoomed in, and Angus saw a well-dressed, handsome man seated comfortably in a leather chair. "To start, please let me introduce myself. My name is Lucas Wagner, and I am your father."