The dark clouds that covered the field of Gnos at Adnawite School were
also visible many miles away in the big city of Revned. Here, in the suburbs
of Revned, was the place known as Natsnud School. These kids were not on
winter break just yet, there were still many more hours of backbreaking
study to go for the students.
Down in the room of D*nab, a violent struggle was going on. A struggle
for pride and glory among the group known only as the Patriot Warriors.
The prize in this contest was no trophy, but the first chair solo in the
upcoming concert in the great hall of Boettcher.
She looked at the boy next to her with an evil glare. Her ears perked,
listening to what would need to be duplicated, and what would need to be
outdone. She could see beads of sweat running down Kith's face. She
could tell he was nervous. And why shouldn't he be? She had held the position
of pride for over three months.
Kith took a breath and set down his alto saxophone. Then he and
the rest of the band of warriors looked nervously at their leader, the
great Nixon.
Nixon frowned and scribbled something on a piece of paper with a dull
stub of a pencil he held. Then, he sighed, scratched behind his ear with
the pencil, and pointed the pencil at her.
"OK Kiree... You're next."
Kiree's blood ran cold as she rifled through her music to find the piece.
"Shaker Variants... That's not that hard. I can beat Kith again!" She unfolded
it and set it in front of her, and pulled her saxophone into place.
She took a deep breath and exhaled through the mouthpiece. Instead
of a tone, a muffled squeak resonated out of her reed and into the air.
Kiree could feel her face burning with shame and embarrassment, and across
the room in the clarinet section she saw her friend Bri's face crumple
up in sympathy.
Kiree continued the piece. Her ears were deaf to her own playing, and
Kiree could only "hear" her playing on the faces of the people around her.
Her fingers were slippery with sweat, and she barely avoided hitting a
G# key with her left pinky finger.
Finally, it was over. She stopped playing and collapsed into her chair.
Kith grinned smugly at her and patted his instrument.
"You're outta that chair girl," he whispered. "I will be the soloist."
Kiree said nothing, just glared at him and turned to face Nixon.
Kiree hated Kith. She never knew why he was such a jerk all the time... Many suspected it was because he was an associate of Diabola, the evil spirit of the key of Eb. It was told that many alto saxophones had submitted to Diabola's evil ways, and joined her to cause evil amongst the members of the band. Kiree had never seen Diabola. It was also said that Diabola's spirit could only dwell within the saxophones of those with evil intentions.
Nixon sat in thought for a moment, and then scribbled more words on the paper. Every scratch of the pencil sounded like a threat to Kiree.
Finally, Nixon stood and held the paper up to his eye level. After adjusting the glasses on his head he spoke. "OK Saxes... this is the new order. First chair..."
Kiree, Kith and the other two saxophones Pelo and Tiy sat up in their chairs hopefully.
"First chair Kiree... Second chair Tiy, third chair Pelo, fourth chair
Kith."
Bri sprang up in her chair and let out a cry of joy, just as Kiree
was exhaling a sigh of relief.
Kith smirked at Kiree and gathered up his possessions. "Ha! You got
lucky this time, Kiree... Next time, I'll beat you good... I'll have help!"
Kiree smiled. "We'll see Kith. But for now, I get the solo in the concert!"
She couldn't help being smug with him. Kith was always so mean to everyone.
He deserved it.
Niki and Bri, Kiree's two best friends in band, grinned at her from
across the room. Niki was an oboe player, and Bri held her place as fifth
chair clarinet with pride.
Kiree signed them both a message as Tiy and Pelo carried their possessions
up two chairs.
Tiy laughed as he dropped into the second chair. "We beat him again,
Kiree."
Kiree shrugged. "Only because he never practices!"
Pelo added in on their conversation. "Associates of Diabola never have
to practice!"
The three saxophones laughed, and Kith glared icily at all three of
them.
"Yes, laugh now. But when my mistress Diabola is done with her engagements at Adnawite, I'll see to it that no band member will ever laugh at me again!"
Nixon quieted the band and spoke to them. "Quiet, my Warriors... Next year, we will go off to battle and be the rulers of all the city of Revned! But for now, we will be the best group at the concert of Boettcher! Trumpets, it's time for your challenges."
Up in the trumpets section, the first chair trumpet Marc was concentrating on the challenge ahead. Marc had been in first chair ever since the Warriors had arrived at Natsnud. Only the first three trumpets were involved, so all the proud brass player would have to do would be to defeat his two inferior comrades...
"Marc, you go first." Nixon said.
Marc inserted the mute of his trumpet and took a quick glance around
the room. He couldn't help but notice the look of pure evil that was spread
across the now last chair saxophone Kith.
arc took a deep breath and played his hardest for the forte measure.
But oddly, instead of a rich note, the sound came out muffled and squeaky.
It got higher and squeakier as he continued playing, and by the time the
12 measures were over, Marc's sound was reduced to a pale squeak.
The room gasped. Marc looked in shock at his trumpet, and noticed the
off-color French horn tuning slide crudely jammed in where his trumpet
slide should have been.
No one was laughing but Kith.
Marc's face turned red and burned with shame as he buried his face
in his hands for the rest of the challenge.
When the other two trumpets had finished playing, Nixon barked out
the new chair placements. Marc did not hear his voice he only slid down
two chairs into third.
He looked angrily at the saxophone section... Kith was laughing loudly
at his own practical joke. How could that heartless woodwind pull such
a trick on him?
Marc's thoughts wouldn't settle.
Kith would pay for his act of evil...
Marc had the trumpet gods on his side! And the trumpet gods, like the
trumpets themselves, had tempers of fury...
Kiree stared coldly at the boy who was sitting at fourth chair, laughing
boisterously at Marc's misfortune. She had a feeling that this was no ordinary
joke... Marc and the rest of the trumpets would retaliate against the saxophones
-no, the woodwinds- fiercer than ever!
"Oh Kith... what have you done now?"