Fairy Metal Thunder (Songs of Magic, #1) (13 page)

“Oooh,” Katie said.

“Yeah, ooh,” Jason said. “Try chasing him
after he stole something of yours.”

“What was his warning?” Katie asked.

“It’s nothing.”

“It sounded big.”

“He just, um…doesn’t want me telling
anybody I saw him. Goblins like to keep themselves secret.”

“It wasn’t about those fairy instruments, was
it?” Katie asked. “Do the fairies want them back?”

“No, it’s no big deal, Katie. Don’t even
worry about it.”

“Are you in trouble with the fairies?”

“Nobody’s in trouble. Just promise me you
won’t go wake up Mom and Dad. Okay?”

“He’s gone, right?”

“He’s all gone.”

“Will you tuck me in?”

“Fine, whatever.” Jason picked her up and
carried her to her room. “There. Good night, Katie.”

“And read me a story,” Katie whispered.

“Katie, I have to go.”

“Just a short one.”

Jason shook his head, annoyed. He looked at
the bright picture books on Katie’s bookshelf. “What kind of story
do you want?”

“One about fairies,” Katie whispered, with a
sneaky grin.

Saturday, Jason woke up worrying over the
goblin’s warning. It had been hard to take Grizlemor seriously when
Jason had just caught him burglarizing his house again. He’d
brushed off Grizlemor’s warnings as the goblin’s attempt to act
like he was doing Jason a favor by robbing him.

Now Jason wondered if there might be some
truth in what the goblin said. He looked from his guitar case to
the heap of napkins with phone numbers on his table. There had to
be some kind of price to pay for this, Jason thought. Magic
instruments that could draw such a crowd, and turn many more people
into fans after hearing just one song—and only half of the song,
really, presented in a shaky, poor quality video made on a
phone—magic like that couldn’t be just free for the taking.

Jason didn’t know if he believed Grizlemor’s
talk about the Fairy Queen, but the fairy musicians themselves
would certainly want such amazing instruments back, and could very
possibly harbor some fairy fury for the person who stole them.

He remembered the “Queensguard” fairies in
their black armor and long swords. Even if they were small, they
looked tough and vicious. Jason could probably fight off one or
two, but he wouldn’t want to get into a fight with a pack of
them.

Then his cell phone rang. Mitch.

“All systems go,” Mitch said.

“Huh?”

“It’s happening tonight,” Mitch said. “Tadd’s
coming over to shoot the video tonight. Call up all those new fans
and let them know.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I just got off the phone with
Tadd.”

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” Jason said.
“We don’t even know how this magic stuff works.”

“But we know it
works
. Don’t back out
now. Erin’s excited about it, too.”

Jason rubbed his head. He didn’t want to
disappoint her.

He opened his case and looked at the
enchanted guitar, the strange runes everywhere on the dark,
polished wood, the glimmering golden tuning pegs. He brushed his
fingertips along the deep engravings on the soundboard, gazing at
the sparkling little amethysts that dotted it here and there. The
guitar was warm to the touch, like a living thing. It seemed to
call to him. He could barely resist the temptation to pick it up
and start playing.

His mom knocked on the door. “Jason, the lawn
isn’t going to mow itself.”

“I’ll be out in a minute,” Jason told
her.

“Not yet, my mom’s still here,” Mitch said on
the phone.

“I wasn’t talking to you, Mitch.”

“
Mick
. Just get us an audience and get
yourself here tonight. I’m taking care of everything else.” Mitch
hung up.

Jason hesitated, then picked up the first
napkin and dialed the number.

“Hello?” a girl’s voice asked.

“Hi, um…” He checked the name. “Wendy? This
is Jason Becker. You gave me your number last night at Buddy
McSlawburger’s—”

A painfully high-pitched squeal pierced his
eardrum, and Jason pulled the phone away from his head. His ear was
ringing.

“Are you okay?” Jason asked when he put the
phone back to his ear.

“Ooh, yah,” she said. “Everything’s great.
You?”

“I was just letting you know we’re playing a
show tonight, if you want to come—”

She let out another excited squeal, and Jason
pulled the phone away faster this time.

“Oh, this is awesome!” she was saying. “I
can’t wait! Where?”

Jason gave her Mitch’s address.

“This is so perfect! I can’t wait to tell
everybody on Facebook!”

“It’s not going to be huge or anything—”

“It’ll be
so
huge!” she shouted.
“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

“Okay,” Jason said. “So, you’re coming?”

“I have to go tell everyone!”

“You don’t have to tell everyone—” Jason
said, but she’d already hung up.

He got a similar response from the second
number, and the third.

Late in the afternoon, Jason stuffed his
McSlawburger’s uniform into his backpack, and told his dad he was
going to work. His dad was sitting in his recliner in the living
room.

“I thought you were off tonight,” his dad
said, looking away from the Golf Channel.

“Yeah, they changed my schedule.”

“A little bit of short notice, isn’t it?”

“Mona hates me. That’s the assistant manager.
I guess somebody must have called in sick, or quit.” Jason
shrugged.

“You know you’re still grounded,” his dad
said. “You’d better not be sneaking off with your friends.”

“I’m not.”

“Stay out of trouble.” His dad turned his
attention back to the golf game.

Jason stopped by the garage, where he’d
stashed his guitar so his parents wouldn’t see him leaving with it,
then rode his bike across town to Buddy McSlawburger’s. He changed
into his uniform and stood at the drive-through, letting a
sophomore named Lizzy Mueller take a long break. Jason wasn’t
scheduled tonight, but Lizzy had been more than happy to let Jason
work part of her shift for her.

Jason took and filled the drive-through
orders until a familiar voice came over the headset: “One
cheeseburger, hold the slaw, one Slawchicken Combo, hold the slaw,
and an extra-large fry, hold the chili-cheese. One Kiddo
McSlawburger Meal…hold the slaw.”

“Pull around to the window,” Jason said with
a grin.

His dad pulled up, and looked both surprised
and pleased to see Jason actually at work.

“Hiya, Dad,” Jason said. “I thought you hated
the burgers here.”

“Only when they glop all that disgusting slaw
on them,” his dad replied. “How’s work tonight?”

“Pretty busy.” Jason handed over the greasy
paper bag of food. “Don’t forget to stop for heartburn
medicine.”

His dad laughed. “How late are you
working?”

“Till closing.”

A car horn beeped somewhere in the
drive-through line.

“Okay, Jayce. Have a good night.”

Jason waved as his dad pulled away.

As soon as there was a break in the
drive-through customers, Jason found Lizzy reading a bright tabloid
at one table in the dining room.
CLAUDIA LAFAYETTE: Who is She
REALLY Dating Now?
asked the headline.

“Your turn,” he said.

“Aw, you sure you don’t want to work all
night?” Lizzy asked.

“I’d love to, but I’m busy.” Jason took off
his tall, floppy hat and rubbed his sweaty scalp underneath.
“Thanks, Lizzy!”

“You can work for me anytime, eh?” Lizzy said
with a smile. She walked behind the counter, and Jason went to the
bathroom. He changed back into his jeans and black T-shirt, shoved
his uniform in his backpack, then went outside and unchained his
bike from the rack.

He hurried to Mitch’s neighborhood.

Jason was running late, but not by much. He
was glad his dad had actually come to check on him, or he would
have been stuck at the drive-through until nine or ten, when his
parents usually went to bed.

Mitch’s mom’s car was gone from the driveway.
The garage door was closed, but the front door stood wide open.
Jason opened the glass storm door and walked inside.

“Doorbell!” Jason announced as he stepped
into the house. “Where are you, Mitch?”

“It’s
Mick
. Back here in the living
room.”

Jason was surprised to walk into the small
living room and find Mitch’s silvery keyboards and computer set up
near the stairs to the second floor. Portions of Dred’s drum kit
had been moved inside, too. Mitch was wiring in amplifiers while
Tadd taped microphones to the walls.

“Jayce!” Tadd said, a nickname that annoyed
Jason. “Welcome to the soundstage, baby!”

“Hi, Tadd.” Jason looked at Mitch. “Is Erin
here?”

“She’ll be here, man,” Mitch said. “It’s Dred
we have to worry about.”

“Dred?”

“Yeah, you call her,” Mitch said. “She says
she doesn’t want to come. I’m moving her drums in here,
anyway.”

“Why are we in the living room?”

“Better atmosphere,” Tadd said. “Ambient
lighting, more windows…it looks like a real house.”

“It is a real house,” Jason said.

“I think it’s going to really symbolize
breaking out of the boring routine of suburban life and really
going wild,” Tadd said. “It’s a perfect environment for that visual
message. I mean, look at the tchotchke shelf. The perfect
representation of the dull and mundane.”

“When did you become Steven Spielberg?” Jason
asked.

“Spielberg?” Tadd snorted. “The true art of
film died with Federico Fellini.”

“Are you calling Dred or not?” Mitch asked
Jason.

“Why doesn’t she want to come?” Jason took
out his phone.

“She’ll have to explain it to you. I sure
don’t understand.”

Jason dialed Dred’s number.

“Yeah,” Dred answered.

“How’s it going?” Jason asked.

“Did Mitch put you up to calling me?” she
asked.

“Oh, no. I’m just wondering when you’re
coming. Everyone’s supposed to be here by nine, so we should be
ready to play by then.”

“I’m not coming,” Dred said.

“You’re not?”

“Like Mitch didn’t already tell you.”

“Why wouldn’t you come?” Jason asked. “That
crummy video Mitch’s neighbor shot is already super-popular.
There’s a bunch of people who want to hear more of our music. This
is our chance.”

“It’s not our music,” Dred said.

“What do you mean?”

“You were too busy playing to notice,” Dred
said. “It didn’t sound like our normal music at all. They aren’t
coming to hear us, Jason. They’re coming to hear those creepy
instruments.”

“Who cares? They want to see our band.”

“I care. There’s something supernatural about
those things.”

“Yeah, I told you, I got them from fairies,”
Jason said. “And everybody loves them.”

“Don’t you know any stories about fairies?”
Dred asked.

“Um…Peter Pan?”

“I mean real stories,” Dred said. “I’ve been
reading about them all night. You can’t trust them. They’re
dangerous and tricky, according to all the old stories. If that’s
where the instruments came from—and after Thursday, I kind of
believe you—then we could be in a lot of danger.”

Her words reminded him of Grizlemor’s
warning. Jason shook his head to clear the thought.

“It’s just one show, Dred,” Jason said. “Just
a small party. You can come for one night. Just play your regular
drums, if you don’t want to use the one I gave you. But we really
need you.”

“I’m busy.”

“With what?”

“I’m
packing
. I’m moving to St. Paul
in a few days. Already have a roommate and everything.”

“Really?”

“Did you think I was kidding about moving
away?” Dred asked.

“Then just play this one show with us,” Jason
said. “Please? I’ve got so many people coming. It’s going to be
humiliating if the band’s not here. Please, Dred? As a favor?”

Dred was quiet for a minute, then she
sighed.

“Just this one time,” Dred said. “And I’m
playing my own drums, not that haunted one.”

“Great! Thanks!”

“Don’t let Mitch touch my drum kit.”

“Right…” Jason watched Mitch carry one of
Dred’s toms into the room and set it into place. “So when will you
get here?”

“Give me half an hour. I can’t believe I’m
doing this.” Dred hung up.

The doorbell rang, and Mitch told Jason to
get it.

Three girls at the front door shrieked when
they saw him. Jason recognized one as Wendy, the first girl who’d
given Jason her number the previous night.

“Hi,” Jason said, opening the storm door.
“The party doesn’t start for like an hour…”

“Then why are all these people here?” Wendy
asked.

“What people?”

Wendy pointed, and Jason leaned out to look.
Cars were parking all along Mitch’s street, with excited kids
climbing out of them. A gang of ten or twelve freshman were walking
up the street, arriving on foot. It might have been thirty people
in all.

“Oh, wow,” Jason said. “Come on in.”

He led the three girls into the living room,
and they shrieked again when they saw Mitch.

“We have guests coming,” Jason said. “A ton
of people are here already.”

“How many did you invite?” Mitch asked.

“Maybe ten. But I told them to bring friends.
And it looks like they all brought three or four.”

“What?” Mitch stood up behind his keyboard.
“That’s too many. We only need fifteen or twenty.”

“Hi!” Wendy and her friends approached Mitch.
“You’re Mitch, right?”

“
Mick
.”

“Mick!” the three girls exclaimed.

“Can we get a pic with you?” Wendy asked.

“I guess.” Mitch looked confused.