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Chapter
9
The
Council of Slepak Part 3
Keep
on runnin' through all my days
He
got a need for speed
But
what you runnin' from, playa?
I
think he's runnin' from me
Take
ya time and just relax
He
ain't got time to take
Slow
it down and think about it
He
got moves to make
Strugglin'
and scrapin', takin' chances, attemptin' to make it
The
time that was taken was tedious but, fuck it, we made it
-Flipsyde
Laura gazed around the woods they were in, holding a folded map in her hands. Chelsea was walking next to Melissa, telling her instructions in a fashion that invoked the idea she just wanted to get it out of the way.
Every so often, Laura would stop, glance between her map and the area surrounding her, and then continue on her way. After a while, they reached a wall of stone which jutted from the ground and extended past the trees above. Her brow furrowed as she looked at her papers with more scrutiny. Chelsea watched as Melissa thought about preparing herself for another outburst between the two. At the last second, Laura saw what she was looking for.
"Hand me the blue orb Handal gave us please, Melissa," she asked. Melissa pulled from her pocket a softly glowing orb and handed it to Laura. "Let's hope this works," Laura muttered as she pressed the orb against the stone. For a moment, nothing happened; then, the ground beneath the trio shook slightly as the shape of a door slowing emerged in the smooth stone.
Laura sighed, relieved. "This cave is of Brass origins," she explained to the other two. "I was afraid I might have to say something in Brassish for a moment there. I cannot speak that tongue!" They slowly entered the room. The Brass Tongue was inscribed along the walls of the cavern, with other metal artworks left in different areas.
"Melissa, you know Brassish, right?" Chelsea asked as she stared around the room.
"Um…no," Melissa answered.
Both girls turned to face her. "How do you not? You're a Trumpet, aren't you?" Laura asked her, totally confused.
"The only tongue ever used in the Nyre was the Common Tongue," Melissa told them, gazing around the room in curiosity.
For a second, nothing was said. Then Melissa headed to one part of the wall to take a closer look at it. Chelsea and Laura exchanged glances. "So…what do we do from here?" Chelsea asked. Again, silence lapsed between the two. They looked to the sides before Laura responded.
"Dunno."
"Hey, you guys may want to take a look at this," Melissa said over her shoulder, looking at a particular portion of the wall. The other two looked in to read, "Nok hâst, i õhaâ todzâ òn: j Ievb Næbwc." Directly below, scratched into the wall, were the words, "At last, I have found it: the One Valve."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The sun had set again and had risen, marking the Second Day of Council's passing. As the congregation waited for Chelsea, Laura, and Melissa, Mr. Slepak and another band director, Mrs. Durham, were passing out drill charts for later practice. One Clarinetist, Omar, came over to Victoria and Jonathan, drill chart in hand.
"Hey, Jon, what'd position d'you get?" he asked.
Simultaneously, Jonathan answered, "Bent over," as Victoria answered, "Spread Eagle." The two looked at each other and laughed, Jonathan remarking, "Great minds think alike."
Soon, however, Victoria noticed the presence of another in their vicinity. She slowly turned around to see a Saxophone with his head directly by hers, trying not to laugh. Once all eyes were focused on him, he cracked up. Omar at this point had given up and moved on elsewhere.
"Andrew Jennings, isn't it?" Jonathan asked.
"It is," Andrew responded, still chuckling. "I believe you had post near Saxzinire during some war or another." He nodded towards Victoria and then Jonathan twice, saying, "Victoria, Jon, Jon's Beard."
"You know her?" Jonathan asked.
"We've met before," they commented.
"Well, Andrew, it's nice to see you again. It's been quite a while. I trust you haven't changed."
Andrew nodded tersely. "Absolutely." There lapsed a silence.
Finally, Jonathan broke it with, "I've got crabs."
Andrew nodded again. "I've got lobsters," he responded fairly seriously.
"I've got all kinds of crustaceans."
Andrew made a motion to mimic looking into his pants. "Hey! I've got Jamaicans down there! What's up, mon?" All three cracked up as Strider made his way over.
He sat on top of Nick, who exclaimed, "Whoa! Mark Brask! Thank you for the greeting." Mark smiled and fondled Nick's chest. "Oh, you're too kind."
Marisa turned to Mark and Nick. "Strider," she started, "you seem to have many names."
"Strider? What kind of name is that? This is Mark Brask here," Nick replied quickly.
"Strider's my porn star name," he answered, running his hand through Nick's hair for the proper effect.
"Ah, alright. Off you go," Nick told him promptly, getting up.
"Well, why do you call him Mark?" Marisa asked Nick.
Nick laughed. "It's the name he was given at birth! Or his royal name, if you wish to think of it that way. To me, I'd be a tad bit frightened if Mark ever decided to actually take the thrown. He's far better someone to clown around with. But where were you at the feast? I must have missed you. There were more than enough females to go around!"
Strider shrugged his shoulders. "I was caught by Slepak and Handal. They still want me to assume my 'birthright and duty'. I told them I couldn't think on an empty stomach." He casted a side glance at Marisa and shook his head. "Didn't work."
Before anyone else could say another word, Nick was heralded by another group of bandies. Marisa turned to Henry and Mark Siermon. "How are you two?" she asked. They both shrugged.
"There's this feeling like I'm finally with the famous and prestigious people I should have always been around. It's been too long," Mark told her.
Marisa and Henry laughed, though immediately Marisa felt she wanted to be elsewhere. She would have described it as emotions but it was precisely that lack of: there were no emotions at that moment; she felt like she was just going through the motions.
Suddenly, the chanting of Nick broke through her misery.
This
is the tale, or so it's told
In
Eyernpo, where Instruments were cast
The
Blesséd Three, so most renowned
And
others by this craft
Were
forged and made by Fluten hands
And
yet, what price this task?
Is
the mirth of knowledge, sweet as a drunk,
An
illusion-ment at last?
What's
fine is fair, or so they say
Yet
fair still seems a mask
For
surely now, after ages gone
We
cannot say it that
There was clapping from various instruments. "The ending could use some work," one Flute shouted out in laughter.
"Due to the quality of the verse or moral of the story?" Nick asked. "It's said that Flutes love to hear of themselves, except when it is criticism." Nick stepped down from the higher seats he had been standing on as he said this.
The Flute giggled coyly. "What would make you assume that? A Clarinet would do no better in that historical situation, except maybe not having the ability to craft such an instrument. And yes, the last verse was quite lacking in artistic ability."
Nick laughed. "I've barely slept the past few days! That I even said anything clearly is a miracle in itself."
"Were you to drink less, you might not slur so much."
"It's free! And to excess. Surely you can understand no restraint?" Nick asked. "In any case, my question is left unanswered."
"Enough!" she laughed. "I cannot tell. We're not so adept at telling the difference between Clarinets."
Nick chuckled in disbelief. "You can't tell the difference between what my verses are and which are Mark's? We're entirely different people!"
"Perhaps to a Clarinet, one is different from another. But to a Flute, a Clarinet is hardly classifiable. There's nothing to base it off of!"
"As you say." Nick headed back to where Marisa was. "As a matter of fact, it was all mine," Nick whispered to her. "But it is true that others are hard put to define us; we seem far less categorical. I guess that's just Band for you."
Jonathan headed back from talking to Mr. Slepak at that moment and sat back down. "Seems they're going to want me and Chelsea to head the Clarinet divisions of any armies that are sent with the girl," he told Victoria.
"Will there actually be an army?" she asked.
"Possibly. They may just settle to a large fellowship to guide her. But who's to say?" He sighed. "It's going to be bad."
Victoria took in what he said before she paused. "Wait, since you guys'll be my generals, that means you get to choose who I room with during our travels, right?" she asked eagerly.
Jonathan thought about it before slowly nodding.
Victoria grabbed his arm, begging, "Please let me room with Michelle. She's so squeamish!" Jonathan laughed as he tried to get Victoria to stop bouncing up and down.
"Okay! Okay."
"Yes!" She then paused. "I orgasmed." Her friend gave her a look of questioning. "Wanna help me clean it up?" she asked slyly.
A smile quickly swept his face as he promptly answered, "Yes ma'am!" They both collapsed into laughter at that.
Marisa looked towards Nick with a worried expression. "Are all foreign bandies like this?" she asked cautiously.
"Hmm?" Nick inquired, looking up. "Are you worried about Victoria? She's harmless; don't worry. And if you think that's odd, you ought to see what I do to Mr. Melado every day," he said, motioning to Jonathan. "Besides, with all the antics I gave you back at Reed End, this ought to be nothing to you."
Marisa couldn't help but laugh at the truth in that statement. "You're right."
All persons in that vicinity looked up to see Mallika and Monica approach the two.
"Hello all," Mallika greeted them.
"Hey Mallika," Jonathan greeted her.
"I heard you'll possibly be my general," she told him.
"That's true," he affirmed. "You'll have to take orders from me."
"Well then, better abandon before this starts."
"Is that so?" he asked her. "Because I was thinking of promoting you. But if that's your attitude –"
"Seriously?" Mallika burst out, suddenly entirely excited. "That would beawesome." She grabbed the surprised Jonathan's hands and asked again, "Are you serious? Would I be able to give orders? That would be so cool. I could tell people to do all kinds of things. Oh, the possibilities!" She then laughed evilly – or as evil as a hyper mood-changing teenage girl can be.
Monica just groaned dissatisfying-ly and pushed Mallika back and forth slowly by the shoulder. "Where's sugar?" she asked despairingly. "I want sugar…"
"I don't think that's the best idea Monica," Jonathan told her, glancing between Victoria who was now randomly dancing and Mallika, who still had a twinkle in her eye.
Monica groaned again and weakly shoved Jonathan.
Before they could speak again, the doors to the room opened. Laura, Chelsea, and Melissa entered. All eyes glanced at the girls, who were soaked in mud and fatigue. Nearly wobbling forward, Chelsea and Laura headed to Mr. Slepak and Handal. Melissa sort of stared around a bit and then went to sit down before the other two doubled back to grab her and carry her along.
Nick glanced at them and said, "About fucking time. Maybe we can move onward with this shit. I want to get to my part of the story." He threw a smile to Marisa who laughed back.
