Jason Peterson

The Last Musician


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said Kristoffer. “And Greenwood.”

      The redhead nodded.

      “And what is your business in these woods? Not many from your land venture into ours.”

      Melete poured the cups of tea and passed them out. Kristoffer took his and thanked her.

      “I’m looking for…something,” Kristoffer said.

      “Ah yes,” said Melete. “The elusive something.”

      “You called on us,” said Aiode. “What do you want?”

      “Aiode, remember your manners,” said Melete. “How can we help you, noble Kristoffer of Greenwood?

      Melete stopped for a moment and gave Kristoffer a look like she was sizing him up. She looked back at her sisters, who didn’t appear to notice. Or maybe Kristoffer was just imaging it. It was all happening so fast.

      Kristoffer’s head was spinning from the sisters’ back and forth, their beauty, and their attention to him. He thought of the note – something about not watching to see who was friend and who was foe. They seemed friendly, and willing to help.

      He sipped the tea and felt soothed to the core of his being. Everything would be all right, he thought. The muses would help.

      “Well,” said Kristoffer. “Something strange happened in Greenwood this morning.” Could it only have been this morning? It felt like ages ago already.

      “Strange?” said Aiode.

      “Yes,” said Kristoffer. He proceeded to tell the three muses all that had happened. The music. The townspeople’s reaction to his being able to play. The note. Everything. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Kristoffer though he might be saying too much. But he felt so loose, so comfortable. He could trust these women. He took another sip of tea.

      “Strange indeed,” said Mneme.

      Kristoffer suddenly realized he was the only one drinking the tea.

      “Aren’t you going to have any tea?” he asked.

      “Soon, Kristoffer, soon,” said Melete.

      The loose, comfortable feeling that had embraced Kristoffer was turning into blurriness. He felt fuzzy, like the time he accidentally drank from Mr. Parson’s mug of coffee. Ethel later said it was filled with more than just coffee.

      Kristoffer sat back in a stupor and watched as the three sisters huddled together. He could only hear snippets of their conversation as they whispered.

      “You told us all music would be gone…”

      “That we would rule…”

      “…do we kill…”

      “How can we…”

      “…that Alistair…”

      Kristoffer swayed from side to side. He wanted to talk, but his tongue felt like a thick slab of meat.

      “You…poisoned me,” he said, though to him it sounded like a garbled, “Yapoyme.”

      Melete broke away from her sisters.

      “Ah, Kristoffer,” she said. “We didn’t poison you, just gave you a bit of the inspiration juice. It’s the nectar of creativity, really. You just got a stronger dose than normal. Not fatal.”

      Melete turned to Mneme and Aiode.

      “Not fatal. Right?” she said.

      Through his groggy eyes, Kristoffer saw Mneme and Aiode huff and kick the dirt.

      “We shall accompany you on a journey, young Kristoffer,” Melete said. “I must first straighten a few things out with my lovely sisters, but we shall find what you seek. Yes, we shall find it.”

      11

      They were walking when Kristoffer came to his senses. Walking fast. The three sisters appeared to glide over the ground, but Kristoffer stumbled and tripped as he tried to keep up. At least, he thought, that’s what he must have been doing. How long had they been walking? Where were they going? Where had they come from?

      The memories came slowly back to him. The muses arriving. The tea. Hurried conversations about finding what they had given away. Alistair. The name hung in Kristoffer’s mind. It sounded like an evil name, and he did not want to go anywhere near anyone with that name.

      Kristoffer stopped. The three muses continued a few paces, seeming not to even notice he had fallen behind, their gaits as graceful as a spring breeze.

      “The boy,” he heard one say.

      “The boy,” the other two said.

      They turned around and glided back to Kristoffer.

      “Kristoffer, you stopped,” they said together.

      Even though he was angry and confused, the sisters’ beauty still took Kristoffer’s breath away. Their names came back to him. Aiode, the blonde. Mneme, the brunette. Melete, the redhead.

      “Yes, I stopped. You’ve kidnapped me,” he said.

      “Oh, no, Kristoffer,” Melete said. “You agreed to accompany us. It really is the only way for you to find what you seek.”

      “The only way, Kristoffer,” said Aiode.

      “The only way to live and find what you seek,” said Mneme.

      “Don’t mind her, Kristoffer,” Melete said. “She just didn’t get her way.”

      “Well, I’m not going with you,” said Kristoffer. “I’ll find my own way, thank you.”

      “I’m afraid you have no choice in the matter,” Mneme said, shaking her head.

      “There’s always a choice,” said Aiode. She gave Kristoffer a look that raised the hair on the back of his neck.

      “Now, now, this is all too hostile,” said Melete. “We are not monsters, are we ladies?”

      Mneme and Aiode said nothing.

      “Well, we are not, Kristoffer. However, we do get our way, and those who don’t…what’s the word…agree with us…” she paused. “Let’s just say it’s better to agree with us than to not. Now, let’s carry on.”

      “No.”

      Kristoffer sat down and crossed his arms. Mneme and Aiode gave him nasty looks. As he turned to look at Melete’s face, he expected to see the same calm, comforting expression she had displayed since he had met her. He was wrong.

      The face staring back at him was twisted in rage. Melete’s red hair looked to be on fire now, pulsing and moving like blood-red cobras. She stalked back and forth before Kristoffer, and even her sisters cowered as she passed.

      Kristoffer trembled.

      “Listen here,” she said. “Have you heard the tale of Thamyris of the woods?”

      Kristoffer shook his head stiffly. He felt frozen in place.

      “Well, dear, sweet Kristoffer.” She spat the words at him. “Thamyris challenged my authority – our authority – one day. We did not kill him, as Aiode and Mneme would have liked to have done to you.”

      The sisters smiled wicked smiles at Kristoffer.

      “No, we did not kill him. We plucked out his eyes. Then we cut out his tongue. Then we chopped off his little music-playing fingers. He finished the job himself. Seems he couldn’t live without music.”

      Melete quickly looked at her sisters, and then fixed her stare back on Kristoffer.

      He felt like he might be sick.

      “We can pay you the same courtesy, Kristoffer,” Melete said. “Now that we know your…talents.” She laughed.

      Melete