“And it doesn’t have to be this way now.”
Kristoffer and the three muses turned to look at where the voice had come from. And old man stood there, looking as threatening as a toy sword in a knife fight.
“Colin Williams,” the old man said. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
12
The sisters laughed, but it was not an evil cackle like they had just delivered to Kristoffer. It was an amused giggle.
“Colin Williams?” said Mneme.“The poet?”
The old man doffed his cap and gave a short bow.
“One and the same,” he said.
“Away with you now, old man,” Melete said. “Or you’ll meet a similar fate as Thamyris. And cause Kristoffer here to meet that fate as well.”
The old man took a step forward, and Kristoffer grimaced. The man was only making the situation worse, as if that were possible.
“I knew Thamyris,” the old man said. “A good man, he was. Until he met you, that is. Was it a lover’s spat? Or wait, it was something else, right?”
Melete glowered at him.
The old man cleared his throat.
“As I heard it, Thamyris got a bit carried away with his ego and thought he was better than the three of you, right?”
The muses ignored the old man.
“So, for his hubris, you took him down a few pegs, eh?”
“Thamyris lost a challenge, fair and square. He knew the consequences.”
“Hush, Aiode,” said Melete.
“You see Kristoffer,” the old man said. “There are a few things you must know about the muses. They are rather fickle, but they are bound by their word once any of them give it. And,” the old man paused. “They never back down from a challenge.”
Kristoffer nodded, and Colin winked at him.
“So, for the predicament we now find ourselves in,” the old man said. “I offer a possible solution. Or, at least, a suggestion.”
“Do tell, Mr. Williams,” Aiode said.
“With the same stakes you gave Thamyris, I challenge you that this boy – Kristoffer – can sing better than the three of you combined, you hacks. You only got lucky with Thamyris. He had a sore throat that day.”
The transformation was sudden, as the muses erupted in anger.
“You lie,” said Mneme.
“You’ll die,” said Aiode.
“We will tear you limb from limb, old man,” Melete said. “But we will take the boy unscathed, without any fight from him.”
And if you lose, you will let us leave peacefully, and you won’t follow us,” Colin said. Agreed?”
Kristoffer stared at him.
“Don’t I get a say in this?” said Kristoffer. “They’re muses. They will be better than me.”
The muses laughed.
“Agreed,” they said.
“Trust me,” said the old man to Kristoffer. “Now sing.”
Kristoffer knew it was his only choice. He cleared his throat, closed his eyes, and tried to block out everything around him. The forest. The muses. The old man. The pressure.
Kristoffer opened his mouth to sing, but his throat seized up. He had never hit a false note in his life, but what came out was an off-key, jumbled mess. He tried to refocus, but his confidence was shattered. He was doomed. The old man would be destroyed, and he would be taken.
Kristoffer slowly opened his eyes, and when he did he wished he hadn’t. The sisters were gloating, dancing around the old man with awful smiles on their beautiful faces.
“We’ll take your eyes, we’ll take your tongue, just like Thamyris you’ll become,” they said over and over as they danced.
“You still haven’t sung,” said the old man. The muses stopped.
“Please,” said Aiode. “You’re going to have us sing after that display of wretchedness?”
Kristoffer hung his head. He fought back tears.
“A contest isn’t a contest unless there is a competition,” the old man said.
“But there won’t be a competition,” Mneme said.
“Very well,” said Melete. “Ladies, shall we do the oratorio ‘Jephte,’ before we destroy Mr. Williams and take the boy?”
The sisters nodded and smiled, and all three drew in a breath at the same time, as though they had been instructed by an imaginary conductor.
They opened their mouths to sing. Nothing, of course, came out. The muses stared at each other, then at the old man, then at Kristoffer.
“That’s not fair,” said Melete. “The music is gone.”
“Ah yes,” said the old man. “You are correct, and it is something you well knew before you made the deal. I think it is as fair as anything. A deal’s a deal. The boy clearly sang better than the three of you.”
The sisters looked as if they could kill the old man and Kristoffer with only their gazes.
“How could you forget?” said Aiode.
“How could you?” said Mneme.
“How could you?” said Melete.
The old man smiled at Kristoffer. “We’ll just be on our way then,” he said.
“Very well,” said Melete. “You may go peacefully. But this won’t be the last you’ll see of us. And we may be fickle, but our revenge is swift. You will wish we only did to you what we did to Thamyris.”
The old man doffed his cap once more. He grabbed Kristoffer by the arm and dashed as fast as his old legs would carry him ahead into the forest.
13
“Did you hear that?”
Alistair paused, and Ogg nearly ran into him.
“Ogg only hear voices in Ogg’s head. They tell Ogg Alistair should read more poetry.”
“Music,” said Alistair.
“Ogg not hear no music.”
“I thought I heard some kind of flute earlier, but I figured it was the wind. Or your gastrointestinal excesses. But that was definitely singing. It’s far off, but the forest carries music far and wide.”
Alistair crouched and placed his ear to the ground.
“I haven’t heard music since just before we met with the muses. I didn’t think of it before, but…” he let his gaze settle on the bag Ogg had set down on the ground.
“But of course,” he said. “How could I have been so obtuse? It’s obvious.”
“Ogg confused.”
“Let’s just say, Ogg, the cargo you are carrying is precious indeed.”
Ogg scratched himself and shrugged his shoulders.
“Ogg need to push again.”
“Okay Ogg, you push,” Alistair said. After Ogg lumbered away, Alistair said, “I do believe my fee has just increased dramatically. How’s that for poetry?”
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