Maria had moved the music box into a different bag, which swung forward off of her shoulder only to come back and practically sucker-punch her in the stomach.
“You got the wheels, we got the looks. Let’s blow this pop-stand,” Claire continued. Sherlock barked in agreement.
“Oh, boy,” Tabby said, “that was unbelievably lame. Please never say that again.”
Claire stuck her tongue out at Tabby.
Maria turned around and looked at the gleaming Firebird.
“I’ve never been in an automobile before,” Gelbus said. “I’ve studied their technology back at the library, but never before have I even seen one in the flesh!” The Gnome sounded quite excited.
“Now’s your chance, my little Gnome friend,” Claire said.
They all went into the garage—even Sherlock, who, despite his new workout phase, could never resist a car ride.
Maria got into the driver’s seat while the rest piled in. She turned the ignition, feeling the thrumming engine vibrate the steering wheel beneath her palms.
Just like when she received the music box on that seemingly long-ago nineteenth birthday, and the sword shortly after that, it felt…right.
When they had gotten to Salem’s Ice Cream, the Muffler twins were just leaving. Both of their mouths were sticky with dried chocolate ice cream.
Salem stood by the door, waving. Under his breath he said, “I told them to go easy on the product before we left. Word to the wise, gals: never trust a Muffler.”
“Yeah, ever since I mowed that Arachnid down with my Kia, my own muffler has been making a ton of noise. I don’t think it trusts me…”
Maria and Tabby looked at her blankly.
“What? Nothing? Seriously, that was hilarious. That’s why I was voted second most-funniest girl in the eighth grade. Now I’m first, in case you two forgot.”
Tabby rolled her eyes, “That’s because Regina died last year.”
Claire shrugged. “I don’t make the rules. Still waiting for my official certificate.”
“You, my friend,” Salem began as he turned around and headed toward the back room where the card table was set up, “are cold-hearted.”
Sticking her tongue out, Claire replied with, “Because I eat your ice cream.” Then she chuckled and pointed upward. "I kid, I kid. Rest in peace, Regina."
Salem left and they followed him.
“I see you two have become quite chummy,” Maria said.
“The best of friends,” Claire replied sarcastically.
In the back room, Joe slept on stacked fifty-pound bags of sugar; three bags in length, four in height. Someone had been nice enough to put a blanket over him, for it was chilly in the room. Maria looked at him and shook her head.
Sorry, Joe. I really am. I wish it could’ve been a little more subtle. Though, I guess it wasn’t as bad as seeing a ghostly warrior from the world in between to confirm your magical suspicions.
She pictured Duke then, in his Dominion soldier clothes, and hoped he was all right.
The rest of the group were gathered around the square table, shoulder to shoulder, except for Sherlock who was currently sniffing around a shelf full of ice cream toppings.
Ohhh, this diet is hard.
“It’s been like thirty minutes,” Maria replied to Sherlock.
He glared at her. How long is that in dog years?
“I don’t think it works that way,” she said as she squeezed in between Tabby and Claire. Gramps and Frieda were across from her, and Salem and Agnes were to their left. Gelbus had a whole side mostly to himself on Frieda’s right. In the middle of the table sat the small chest Gramps had retrieved from home.
Maria couldn’t even begin to fathom what sorts of oddities were contained within, and part of her wasn’t sure she really wanted to know.
“First order of business,” Gramps said, turning to Gelbus, “we must learn more about this music box. Maria, can you please show it to Gelbus?”
Maria took it out of the new bag and placed it on the table, on the side of the chest closet to Gelbus. The Gnome’s lips parted, and his eyes quivered in their sockets.
“Two moons,” he said breathlessly.
“So you know of it?” Gramps asked. “Or can you not say? I had chosen to forget the old rule of the Gnomes.” He turned to the others. “It is ingrained in their DNA that they cannot spill the secrets of their vault. Many have tried to get them to do so—our Dragon Tongue friends included.”
Gelbus shook his head. “This is not a secret of the Gnomes, but I do know of it, as I have studied the history of the Dark Forest.”
“Can you tell us more?” Gramps asked.
Maria was on the edge of her seat. Nearly everyone at the table stared at the Gnome with intensity, waiting for his answer.
Gelbus sighed. With a shaky hand, he reached out and picked up the music box. He looked as if he were afraid it would bite him. Slowly, he opened it. The sweet song within played.
A tear fell from Gramps’s eye. “Ah, how that reminds me so much of Zimmy. My poor Zimmy.”
My mother, Maria thought. I wish I could remember you.
The only thing she did seem to remember was facing her mother-that-was-not-really-her-mother in the Cave of Delusion. That was not such a pleasant memory.
Maybe I’ll see you again, Mom, and maybe we can catch up on the stuff we missed out on together. The thought brought sadness to Maria, which she quickly tried to shake away.
“This,” Gelbus continued, “is an artifact, but it is not one to be trifled with, I’m afraid.”
“Go on,” Agnes urged.
“Yes, please,” Salem echoed. “Sorry for her bluntness.”
Agnes elbowed Salem.
“So you can tell us?” Maria asked. She almost couldn’t believe it; it was too good to be true. Everything up to that point had seemed so much more difficult than it should’ve been, but now something was finally going in their favor.
“I can,” Gelbus answered, nodding solemnly. He put the box down and unconsciously wiped his hands on the thigh of his breeches as if the wood had dripped poison. “Though, I shouldn’t. I think my silence
