Lucas calmly regarded the youngsters with flat grey eyes, expressionless and intimidating. He wore a hand-tailored cashmere suit. His nails were perfectly manicured, shoes polished to a glassy shine, and a red silk tie softly gleamed against his starched white shirt. The scent of luxury cologne surrounding the man smelled of money, lots of money.
Angus and Adora, still in the private studio, kept hidden. The record executive considered Hamish, Trevor, and Veronica.
"How did you get in here? Are you some stray junior composers looking for your contracts?"
The three stood frozen, terrified.
"Maybe you’re little do-gooders from the City of Benthos?" Lucas sneered. "Starry-eyed adventurers, who think they can take on the system?"
Trevor began to edge toward the door.
"SIT!" the man pointed to a red leather couch. "I think you're looking for contracts and, let me guess, plan to destroy them and free the composers."
The trio nervously glanced at one other and nodded as they sat.
"Did that bumbling idiot, Clavis, put you up to this?" Lucas loomed over them. "Did he feed you all that mumbo-jumbo about no one owning music? That’s it’s some sort of sacred magical force?"
Again, they nodded.
"Huh. He didn't tell you it's also about power, which he desperately desires for himself! As for me, I'm tired of the few gifted ones, composers, and writers, who think they have the right to control the universe. Those people have influence and control over everything and clutch it to themselves like greedy children!"
Lucas paced back and forth.
"We live in a world where a select few hold the ability to create new spells, and the rest of us are at their mercy."
He bent and glared at the children. Veronica noticed that his tie clip oddly held an empty jewel setting.
"I'm going to let you in on my little plan," said Lucas, "Why not? You can’t do anything about it; the deal is pretty much done."
A noise emanated from the recording studio, and the sound of piano notes stopped momentarily. Lucas glanced towards the door.
Veronica reacted quickly to regain his attention. "What plan?"
"I am transferring the power of composers to those who know how to properly wield it," continued Lucas, "The people of business. Professionals who understand the value of ideas and how to control and leverage their release into the world. They know exactly what should or should not be delivered and to whom. Music and its creation are valuable resources and should be treated as such, not just given away. Profits from these endeavors will be funneled back into even bigger projects that can spread their influence further."
"The ability to compose new music will no longer be the privilege of an elite few. It's a resource that, properly managed, can generate fame and fortune for those who deserve it. And yes, some will suffer, some may even die, but there is always a price to pay."
Veronica widened her eyes innocently. "Are you one of the good guys?"
"Yes," Lucas puffed out his chest, "I'm doing this for the good of everyone. I will make it so anyone can write music and create a spell if they have enough money. I'm glad to see you're starting to understand."
"I think I do," Veronica sighed. "These composers consider themselves so special, but they haven’t actually done anything to earn their powers."
Hamish and Trevor saw that her sweet behavior was clearly an act and nodded vigorously.
"I require my resident composers to create motifs," said Lucas, "which are fed into a massive supercomputer. There, they are analyzed and cataloged. Anyone can purchase and download these motifs to combine however they wish."
"I get it. People will be able to pick different motifs and make a song without having to understand music," Veronica sounded convincing. "That is very clever of you."
"Oh, I know it is," said Lucas. "Eventually, the artificial intelligence in this supercomputer will figure out the underlying patterns and rules to making music and then start creating music itself."
"But computers can't listen to Thrum," blurted Trevor, receiving a burning glare from Lucas, "I...I… I'm sorry. I'm just trying to help."
Lucas waved this away dismissively. "Listening to Thrum is nonsense! There's an underlying mathematical pattern, and I will find it! Then I won't even need these whiney composers."
"So, you're trying to make an A.I. that composes?" asked Veronica.
"I have already accomplished that. It will take time for my system to learn and grow, but it’s too late to stop. The deed is done. Now, I must ensure that those allowed access to the A.I. agree on terms. Just a few contracts to sign and a new world of music will be born."
"Can we help you?" asked Veronica, "I never liked composers anyway."
Lucas narrowed his eyes; she’d pushed the act too far.
"You are making mighty people wait for me and are wasting everyone’s time. I will ask again, and you will tell the truth. Who are you?"
A powerful woman’s voice startled them all, "These are your son’s friends, and you are a terrible father."
***
As Lucas delivered his troubling speech, Angus frantically tried to wake his mother from her stupor, Adora watching from over his shoulder. He patted her cheeks, whispered in her ear, and waved his hand before her eyes. Still, Tianna was utterly unresponsive. Eventually, he remembered the Elixir of Thrum stored carefully in a deep pocket of his backpack. Angus unplugged the vial and lifted it to his lips but reconsidered and dribbled it into his mother’s slack mouth instead.
Tianna’s transformation was amazing. She seemed to grow taller as life and color poured into her face. Tianna Tutter looked into her son’s eyes and smiled.
"I know who you are, Angus, even though I've been gone far too long.” She looked down, saw Angus’s pack hanging open, and spied a familiar piece of cloth. She reached in and grabbed the shabby wool blanket and pulled it over the three of them. “I can’t believe you still have my muting blanket! Don't worry. It’s safe to talk under here; no one can hear us.”
Angus stared at his mom in complete disbelief and started to cry.
“Shhhh, Angus, please know I love you, but we must deal with this situation now.” She played three soft notes on the piano, and Tuner joined them in the little tent.
"Tuner, get me Pedals and my watch, no questions, hurry," said Tianna, “and send help; these children are in terrible danger.” The ghostly head nodded and disappeared. A ring set with a blue stone and an old digital watch materialized on top of the piano, just as Angus’s first ticket to Benthos had so long ago. Angus's mom slipped the ring on, clasped the watch around her wrist, and tapped the glass face. She pulled the blanket away and metamorphosed.
Creä, Tianna’s Persona, resembled a monarch butterfly. She wore a crown of silken autumn leaves that rested above large glasses, cleverly crafted to look like insect eyes. Orange and black wings rose from her back, and a satin robe fell to tall boots of green leather leaves. Her hair was pulled back in a wild, messy fashion with bright orange and yellow flowers woven throughout.
"Hide," she commanded.
***
"These are friends of your son, and you are a terrible father," Creä snarled, striding into the room. Pedals appeared before her in holographic form, and she began to play confidently. With each note, a needle-sharp icicle materialized and flew at Lucas.
He barely got out of the way in time, diving behind his desk as an icicle hissed past and nicked his ear.
Veronica, Trevor, and Hamish scrambled into the studio to join Angus and Adora.
"Dorf, get over here!" Lucas barked. The black grand piano in the studio dematerialized, flickered through the air and solidified into a blue gem on his tie clip. Then, like Creä's, his piano's holographic keyboard appeared before him. Lucas pounded on Dorf’s keys, a dark mist billowed forth, and the head of a sinister black dragon congealed from the cloud. It belched fire, melting the icicles as they flew.
Lucas activated his Persona, Mendax. He stepped forward with a sinister grin, a horror film demon. The tie clip had fallen loose to hang from a neck chain as his suit replaced itself with nothing but black satin pants. The skin of his body flowed into reptilian scales as wet serpent fangs slid from his lips, and enormous bat wings grew from his back. He pulled dark sunglasses from a pocket with a flourish and covered his eyes.
"Lucas Wagner!" exclaimed Creä, "Your talk of sharing and giving is nothing but an excuse for exploiting innocent people. All you want is wealth and power for only yourself!" Creä and Pedals extruded an icy blue orb around themselves, protecting them from the flames.
"I made you famous, but you took all the credit while I did all the work!" snarled Mendax. "They worshiped you, and I got nothing!" As he spoke, black snakes with venom-dripping fangs slithered in on both sides of Creä.
"You got rich!" she cried, “I never wanted my life ruined by the media circus you built around me! That fame turned me into a prisoner.” Her fingers rippled out a motif to create wicked axes that swiftly beheaded the snakes.
"I didn't want money; I didn’t want fame!" she howled. Creä slammed out chords to generate lightning balls that danced around the room, finding Mendax behind his desk to zap him, leaving an ozone tang in the air.
Mendax created a lightning rod to absorb the charges.
"What did you want then?" screamed Mendax, saliva spraying, "You certainly didn't need much convincing to come away with me, to be on my show and roll in the spotlight." Mendax slapped a button on his desk, and mechanical insects like the one from the sanctuary emerged from alcoves in the walls. They marched in time with the music and swarmed at Creä.
"I wanted you to LOVE ME!" cried Creä slapping her keyboard to create a shock wave that disintegrated the little robots. "I wanted us to raise our child together, but you vanished with him the second he was born."
"You were disloyal!" roared Mendax. "Angus is my investment; he belongs to me!"
"I was angry and heartbroken because you were never, ever there," Creä growled, "You desired nothing but money and power. I wanted a normal life; a family but wasn’t even allowed to see my parents. I had no friends, no one!" She started playing very low, rumbling notes.
Mendax seemed a little taken back. "You wanted a family? Then why did you run off when I brought Angus back? You’d even signed the contract!"
"Because it was obvious, you’d be a bad father, and you certainly didn’t appreciate me," said Creä, "or any of the other girlfriends you had at the same time!" The low rumbling notes got louder and louder.
"You didn’t care about my project," Mendax accused.
Creä's jaw dropped in outrage. "You threatened to hurt Angus, forced me to sign a contract, and then kidnapped me! I've been in that room, toiling away, writing motifs for your useless project for ten years."
"If only you understood this is for the greater good," said Mendax.
Creä's eyes glowed orange, and her wings beat the air, blowing forth gusts of blazing heat. The office furniture smoldered as Mendax shielded himself with his bat wings.
"Creä," shouted Mendax as his hair caught fire, "you are breaking your contract. There will be consequences."
"I DON’T CARE!" screamed Creä. Pedals’ rumbling was now thunderous, and a blazing, white orb resembling a miniature sun appeared. The faster she played, the brighter and more substantial it grew.
Mendax played counterpoint to her melody on Dorf, charging up a light-sucking black orb.
Simultaneously, they released the spheres of energy. Mendax's black and Creä's white globes flew at each other as if attracted by gravity. They didn't collide immediately but orbited one another like twin suns, faster and faster. Finally, they merged with a catastrophic explosion of piano keys and twanging metal strings.
The battling pair shielded their faces and staggered as the blast blew them back. Creä looked at her ring, and Mendax looked at his tie clip in the echoing silence. Their crystals had disappeared; their instruments had abandoned them. A fresh, blue crystal sparkled on the floor where the two orbs had met.
Mendax tore at his hair in horror; he understood what had happened. With a cry of grief and rage, he strode from the room and was gone.
The five children cautiously emerged from hiding. Angus hugged his mother as her Persona rapidly faded. Creä's mask of leaves withered and dissolved into dust, and the flowers in her hair dropped to the floor. The butterfly wings wilted and faded away.
"Mom! What did he mean about breaking the contract?" begged Angus. "What are the consequences? Does it mean you die?"
His mom smiled as her eyes filled with tears. "Kind of." She stumbled weakly to rest on the leather sofa.
"In my contract with Lucas, it says that I can never do him harm," said his mother, "Breaking the contract releases, well, a curse of sorts. I will lose my ability to hear Thrum."
"I will also forget anything to do with Thrum." sighed Tianna. "So yes, in a sense, I will die, but this is better. We can be a family, and you will still remember. This is your burden now, but I know you can handle it."
"That can’t be right!" Angus sat beside her. "How do I stop this? What if I destroy your contract? Please, tell me what to do."
"I'm afraid it's too late," said his mother. "Angus, I have always loved you and always will. I would do it all again in a heartbeat to protect you from that evil man."
"Isn’t there any good in him?" asked Angus, "He’s my father! Maybe I could convince him to tear up your contract?"
"No, Angus," said his mother, "trust me, I've tried. He can be very charming, but his intentions are always selfish."
Tianna’s head nodded drowsily.
"I need to sleep for a while, and when I wake up, I won't remember much, but it’ll all be fine" Her words were slurred. "There are two things I need you to do."
"What, Mom? Please tell me!" Angus shook her, trying to keep her awake.
"Use your beautiful voice well, and stop Mendax," she mumbled.
“But I can’t sing,” Angus protested.
Tianna drew on the last of her strength, “I’m the reason you can’t sing. When you were a child, I cast a hush spell on you. I did it to protect you from your father, so he wouldn’t be able to find you and use you as a weapon. But now you need that voice. Be very careful with it, and watch what you sing. The spell will dissolve when my connection to Thrum is broken.”
“Now, Angus put your father in his place.” Tianna rested her head on Angus’s shoulder and began to snore softly.
Angus felt a warm tingle in his throat, and tension in his jaw and neck relaxed. He breathed deeply and lay his mother down. Veronica rushed over to give comfort, and he burst into a fresh round of tears.
Adora cleared her throat. "I don't mean to interrupt, but we are in a bit of a situation. We need to get out of here."
Angus sniffled and took a shaky breath as his fingers madly danced on his thighs. He understood that they were still in great danger.
"Come on!" Adora tugged at his sleeve.
He resisted momentarily, reaching to collect the blue crystal sparkling on the floor. A shock of connection brought instant understanding; Angus closed his eyes and thought awake. The sleek, compact piano that appeared was rich dark red, with faint golden shimmers glistering through its fresh, polished finish.
"This is Corryn," Angus said sadly, "and it has found me. Dorf and Pedals refused to be used as weapons in this battle, with two parents fighting over their child. They merged and chose me. I guess it was just too much unhappiness to bear."
Angus’s hands moved to the keyboard and lightly played a few notes.
"That is one of the coolest-looking pianos I've ever seen. Congratulations, Angus," said Trevor, "So what do we do now?"
"There's no way we can take on Lucas," said Adora, "Even without his piano, this place full of guards and who knows what else.”
Angus dematerialized Corryn and tucked the crystal deep in his front pocket. He made his mother comfortable with pillows and vowed to return for her. The others followed him into the hallway.
"They know we're here, and I'm sure they’re coming for us," said Veronica. "So, let's just hit this head-on."