“Solas,” he whispered.
Max gave a yelp and fell backward in the snow as the entire sky erupted in light, illuminating the countryside for miles as though a hundred bolts of lightning had flashed at once. Max’s eyes stung from the sudden exposure. Connor and Cynthia were doubled over, shielding their faces, while Bob fumbled blindly for the lantern he had dropped. When Max regained focus, he saw David standing over him, extending his hand.
“Don’t ask me to do that again,” he whispered, helping Max to his feet. Max nodded, his cheeks flushing in shame. Ascending the dune, David carefully placed the lantern in Bob’s groping hand. With a moan, Bob lurched to his feet and placed a hand to his knotty forehead.
“Bob will be fired….”
The trek back was quiet, broken only occasionally by Bob’s faint and angry muttering in Russian. Max’s spirits were finally lifted by the happy sounds of Nolan’s fiddle, which turned his thoughts away from wild charges, lurking vyes, and missing children.
Bob turned to face them.
“Bob goes ahead. Dinner soon. Say nothing of the light,” he warned, wagging a finger at them, lingering a moment on Connor’s ruddy face. “If you do, Bob gets false teeth. Then Bob finds you!” The ogre’s features twisted into a hideous, sunken smile, and he pulled the lantern close to cast an eerie glow across his face. Connor whimpered and took a backward step. With a satisfied chuckle, Bob smiled and walked on ahead, taking six feet at a stride.
“He’s kidding, right?” Connor said with a weak laugh.
“Of course he is,” said Cynthia, sneezing into her sleeve.
As Max and the others approached the Warming Lodge, they saw that the bonfire was still burning brightly, and a dozen students lounged on bales of hay. Nolan was putting his fiddle in its case. Julie was busy aiming her camera at Lucia, who had fallen asleep with Kettlemouth held tightly in her arms. Other students began to stir, standing up and stamping their feet to get the feeling back in their toes.
“Hey there!” drawled Nolan. “Y’all missed the music, but you’re in time for dinner. Good timing either way you look at it!”
“Oh, stop it, Nolan,” Cynthia blushed. “The music sounded wonderful!”
Max and Connor shot each other a look. Even David smiled.
“Thank you, Cynthia,” said Nolan. “Did you catch a glimpse of that light?”
Max shut his eyes as he and Connor blurted, “No,” while Cynthia and David simultaneously exclaimed, “Yes.” Nolan raised an eyebrow.
“Never seen anything like it before,” he continued. “Lit up the whole Sanctuary—”
“Oh, Nolan,” Cynthia interrupted, “couldn’t we hear just one more song—a quick one? Old Tom hasn’t chimed the dinner bell just yet.”
Nolan hesitated.
“Pleeeaaaaase?” begged Cynthia, tugging on his arm. Connor rolled his eyes and coughed loudly.
“Okay,” said Nolan, looking flattered. “A quick one, then. ‘Daisy Bell,’ to get us thinking of spring around the corner.”
Max stopped politely as Nolan began to play. He was anxious to get back to the Manse for dinner. His stomach, his bladder, and the fact that Julie made him queasy led him to look longingly toward the hedge tunnel.
Suddenly, an impossibly magnetic voice, rich and deep, began to sing.
Daisy, Daisy,
Give me your answer, do,
I’m half crazy,
All for the love of you.
It won’t be a stylish marriage,
I can’t afford a carriage,
But you’ll look sweet,
Upon the seat
Of a bicycle built for two.
Max stood rooted to the spot as the words washed over him. Kettlemouth had hopped away from Lucia and now sat alone on a bale of hay. His blood-red throat was puffed out like a balloon; his head pumped up and down in rhythm to the music.
Kettlemouth was singing.
Nolan got a funny look on his face and picked up the tempo. He struck up the tune again, and Kettlemouth’s voice filled the clearing. Cynthia started jumping up and down, clapping her hands in wild applause.
“Oh, Nolan,” she gushed, “it’s beautiful! You’re so very talented, Nolan! Really, I mean it. And you have such a rugged way about you!”
Max’s whole body began to tingle with warmth. He watched as David, with a wry smile, plucked Julie’s camera from a nearby chair.
Hoarse barking suddenly filled the air. Frigga and Helga, the Scandinavian selkies, were lumbering toward them from the lagoon in ground-shaking ripples as steam rose off their thick blubber. Coming to a skidding stop, the selkies began to bump each other aside in an effort to gain position next to a handsome Fourth Year boy, who was now in a passionate embrace with a redheaded classmate.
Like a shot, Tweedy bounded off his bale of hay and began to weave mad zigzags through the snow, chasing a spotted rabbit that had been chewing a stray bit of hay. Tweedy’s bifocals fell to the ground, where Connor promptly smashed them as he stumbled past to plop down on Lucia’s lap. She was now awake and smiled coyly at him, batting her thick eyelashes.
The song began once more; Nolan grimaced as his fingers danced mechanically over the strings. Cynthia began clapping and singing along with an enthusiasm that far exceeded her musical talents. A furious bark erupted from Frigga, who was angrily eyeing the amorous Fourth Years.
“What she got that Frigga no have?”
“No winter coat of blubber, that what!” barked Helga.
“Quiet, you!” roared Frigga, thumping her sister with an angry head-butt.
Max’s heart started beating faster, fluttering like a moth in his rib cage. Julie had risen to her feet and was staring at him with a puzzled expression. As Kettlemouth’s voice rose to a fevered pitch, Max took several steps toward Julie and took hold of her hand. She gave his hand a little squeeze in return; her nose was pink, and her breath smelled like peppermint. Max cleared his throat.
“Julie—”
Suddenly, she kissed him, throwing her arms around him and almost knocking him over. Her nose was cold against his cheek, and Max felt weightless….
Old Tom’s chimes sounded clear and cold in the winter air. Max opened his eyes in alarm; Julie backed several feet away, her face a deep scarlet. Kettlemouth had abruptly stopped his singing and hopped off the bale of hay. As though they burned him, Mr. Nolan flung his fiddle and bow into the snow and began shaking his cramped hands. A sheepish Connor apologized profusely while Lucia screamed at him in Italian. The Fourth Year boy stood by with a confused and frightened expression on his face as Frigga briskly informed him that “It not have worked out for us, anyway. You are human and Frigga is selkie.”
“Not a word, you!” Tweedy snapped at Omar, who was giggling in fits as he tried to piece together Tweedy’s mangled spectacles. Tweedy whirled to face Nolan, thrusting a paw in the direction of Kettlemouth.
“I demand that such a creature be removed from this Sanctuary! This is an outrage! That amphibian’s power is disgusting and irresponsible! It’s—it’s not dignified!”
Nolan shook his head and retrieved his fiddle from the snow, wiping it clean with his sleeve. Cynthia handed him his bow while staring at her boots.
“Now, now, Tweedy,” cautioned Nolan, “I grant you I didn’t realize Kettlemouth’s songs were so…compelling…but it’s not his fault. Anyway, his songs just eliminate inhibitions; they don’t make you do anything you didn’t already want to do.”
Max glanced at Julie, who avoided his eyes and gathered up her things.
Tweedy hopped over to Nolan, his whiskers twitching with incredulous rage.
“Are you insane or simply ignorant, man? Are you suggesting that I wanted to court some unwashed, uneducated floozy from the wrong side of the meadow? That this is some secret desire I harbor?”