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Sunday, December 4
Schrodinger loved it when the St. Michael’s Church Christmas Choir came to CrossWinds Books. Every year, Father Christopher created a special choir, composed of not only the regular members of the choir, but singers who came in from the surrounding Realms to participate. And every year, they sang a special concert at the bookstore.
He and Molly had been up in the upper floor all morning, setting up the area for the concert. The bookcases were pushed out to the ends of the room, opening up even more of the center. The choir would stand on one side of the room, and the chairs for the spectators faced them. In front of the fireplace, Molly had set up three long tables. One held the three large hot carafes, two with hot water and one with hot apple cider, and the smaller tureen that held hot mulled wine. DC would be in charge of that one, making sure that no one “accidentally” got something they shouldn’t have. There was the large wooden tea box, full of various teas that Molly had collected, and a large glass jar with hot chocolate mixture. Cold carafes held cream and milk, standing next to a glass jar of honey from one of the local farms, as well as a cup of sugar cubes and the small box of artificial sweeteners that Molly grudgingly provided.
The next two tables were covered with goodies that she had been making for the last few days. While the kids had decorated the musical notes that were piled high on a silver platter, Molly had made loaves of cranberry-orange and banana-nut bread, which she had sliced and laid out with some of the fresh butter from Lisa and Neil’s farm. There were platters of her caramel apple turnovers as well, and vanilla shortbread fingers, speckled with black spots from the vanilla beans that Pavel had brought her. The fragrance as they had baked had been overwhelming. Considering how many times Aunt Margie had come down to snitch some, Schrodinger was surprised that there were any left to be put out.
Anything else we need? He looked up at Molly, who was surveying the tables.
“I think we’re good,” she said. “And I just heard Kaylee’s voice downstairs. Let’s go and do the advent calendar before the choir starts.”
Sounds good.
Kiaya had picked up Lily, Kaylee, and Jack before bringing Gideon into the Bookstore, and to Schrodinger’s surprise, Zeke had joined them, carrying a large case.
“I assume everything’s upstairs?” he said, and Molly nodded. “Thanks. I’ll go and set this up.”
What is that? Schrodinger asked him.
“It’s a portable recording studio,” Zeke said, grinning. “Among other things.”
“Come on,” Molly said, shepherding them all into the kitchen. “The choir will be here soon!”
She had pulled out the castle earlier, and now she brought it down from the side board, holding it so that they could all look for the fourth window.
There it is, Jack said, nosing Kaylee. On the west tower!
She reached out to touch the little number “4” on the shutters of the tower window, and they sprang open. Schrodinger had been half-expecting to see the singers again, but instead, there was another circular tower room. This one was lined with bookcases, and instead of soldiers at the windows, there were oversized armchairs, with small tables and reading lights. It was as if the bookstore had been crammed into a single room.
Seated on one of the armchairs was a young woman with long dark hair pulled back in a plait, a large book open on her lap. Her dress was a pale blue, and swirled around her like ocean waves. Her finger moved across the page, following the words, and as they watched, the words themselves rose from the book, dancing around her head. One of them broke away and came out of the window, and Schrodinger saw it said “Songs.”
“She knew! She knew what was going on today!” Gideon said, clapping his hands excitedly. “Do you think she’ll be here?”
“Maybe,” Molly said mysteriously, watching as the word hovered for a moment, and then faded away.
“But it didn’t give us anything!” Kaylee said, obviously disappointed. “Wasn’t it supposed to give us something to do?”
It was a good question. They all turned and looked at Molly, who had leaned down and picked up the castle. “Don’t worry,” she said, as she carried it into the pantry. “It’s not over yet.”
What do you mean? Schrodinger asked her. The word is gone!
“Are you sure?” she said, coming back out.
“We saw it fade away!” Lily said. “It’s gone! Look!”
And she turned to point to where the word had been. It was gone, that was true, but there, on the floor under where it had vanished, was a set of golden bells.
“What??? How did that happen?” Gideon asked, his hands going to his cheeks. “Where did they come from?”
“Bells? What are we going to do with bells?” Kaylee asked at the same time.
Schrodinger went over and nosed them, looking for something like a note or instructions. Wrapped around each handle was a ribbon with a name: one for each of them. Well, I think we’re supposed to use them, he said. But I’m not sure to do what.
It was Lily who found the note, when she picked up the bell with her name on it. It was a small piece of paper, and she read it out loud: “The sound of bells purifies the air. These bells will help you today, and then you can give them to Father Christopher. He’ll know what to do with them.’
When he came with the choir, Father Christopher beamed at them as he saw the bells. “Ah, perfect! I know exactly what you’ll want to do with those!” he said, gesturing them to come with him.
The upper room had filled up while they were downstairs, and all the choir members, dressed in their green and gold choir robes, were standing together on one side, clustered around a centaur with dark grey hair and a pair of gold glasses. Pertwee had been part of the choir for as long as anyone could remember, and his baritone was the one of the underpinnings of the singers. He didn’t stay in the Cove for much more than the choir meetings, but Schrodinger had always enjoyed listening to him.
Now, he caught sight of them and said, “Ah, Father Christopher, you were right! The bells have arrived!”
“Of course they have!” Father Christopher said, and then turned to the five of them. “Here’s what I want you to do.”
<><>
“I hope he knows what he’s doing,” Molly murmured to DC, watching the priest speaking earnestly to the children. “They don’t exactly have the best sense of rhythm.”
“I’m not sure they’re going to need it,” DC said. “Jingle bells aren’t the most exacting of musical instruments, after all.”
“True.”
Father Christopher placed the five in the front of the choir, still speaking quietly to them. Molly was half-afraid of how long they were going to have to stay there: Lily, Jack, and Schrodinger could sit quietly for a long time, but that wasn’t Gideon or Kaylee’s strong suit. But as the music started, they seemed to be captivated by the voices rising up around them, and to Molly’s surprise, they sat and listened.
As the choir swung into a rousing rendition of “Jingle Bells” about halfway through the program, Father Christopher nodded at the five in front of him, who began to ring their bells enthusiastically (and rather off-beat), to the great amusement of everyone in the room. After the song ended, he called for an intermission, and they came running over to the tables.
“Molly, Molly, did you see us?” Kaylee said, shaking her bell again. “Didn’t we do good?”
“You did amazingly, Kayleebug!” Molly assured her, picking her up and hugging her. “I was so impressed!” She turned and pointed. “Look, your mom and dad were here too!”
“Mommy!” Kaylee shrieked, and Molly winced, setting her down. “Daddy!”
“Hey, monster, great job!” Her brother Nathan wove his way through the crowd to pick his younger daughter up before she could run to him. “And good job to you guys too,” he added, as Gideon and Lily turned to him. “You really added to the concert!”
“Indeed,” Father Christopher said, coming up behind them.
Father, why do you need the bells? Jack asked him. The note said you would take them.
“Yes. I’m going to hang them over at the high school,” Father Christopher told them. “The fact that they were used in the Christmas concert means that they’re now officially Christmas bells, and the high school needs them for their decorating.”
It was a good explanation, and Molly silently congratulated him on it. It didn’t surprise her that the priest was in on the Snow Queen’s plans – he always seemed to be part of what went on in the Cove.
They all handed him their bells, and he stopped, looking at Lily. “Are you okay, Lily?” he asked kindly.
She flushed. “Yes, I’m fine. Just wishing Zoey could be here, that’s all.”
“We all wish that,” Father Christopher said, patting her on the shoulder. “Next year, I know she will be.”
Lily nodded, but Molly, watching her, wondered if that was it.
<><>
“You’re leaving.”
Her voice, cool and composed, didn’t sound upset. Indeed, it sounded slightly bored, and Caliban wondered if she’d try to talk him out of it. “Yes,” he said, continuing to fold the shirts he’d pulled out of the cabinet. Normally, he’d have a servant do it, but he wanted to travel light, and that meant making decisions on what he was carrying. “I have things that I need to see to.”
“Were you planning on telling me, or just sneaking away?” Nadine asked him, coming into the room. She was dressed, as always, in a gown of deep gold that looked faintly like snake scales, a nod to her parentage, and in particular, the salamander that had fathered her. Her pale blue eyes wandered around the room, never actually looking at him. “Has my hospitality been that poor?”
“You know it hasn’t, cousin.” Caliban set a shirt heavily encrusted with embroidery and jewels aside. He wouldn’t need it. “But I put you in danger by staying here.”
“Hardly. Uncle Mendron wouldn’t dare come for you here.”
“You don’t know how angry he is,” Caliban told her, although his heart wasn’t in the lie. Mendron could probably care less about his younger son’s whereabouts, as long as said younger son didn’t cause more trouble for him. “Besides, it might not be him. I hear the reward for my capture is fairly handsome.”
“Not really,” Nadine said. “If it was, I would expect more attempts on your life. We’ve only had three.”
“Three too many.” Caliban finished with the shirts, and eyed his pack. “I’m honored that you sheltered me, Nadine, but it’s time I was gone.”
“Where are you going?”
“Best you don’t know,” he said. “That way, you don’t have to lie to anyone.”
She finally looked at him, and the cold indifference stung him a little. “If you insist.” Nadine waved a long-fingered hand lazily. “Take what you need. Safe travels.” And then she turned and left, her gown shushing sinuously in her wake.
“And to you, cousin,” Caliban said to the empty air, his tone caustic. “I’m touched by your concern.” He grabbed the pack and stomped out towards her Gate room.
It was time to find out who had sent him that leaf. And why.
>Activity: Listen to Christmas carols while you string up some jingle bells to go on your tree (or if you prefer, to go on your door!).
Originally published at The words of Valerie Griswold-Ford. You can comment here or there.
