Heart of Midnight by Robert J. King

Author:Robert J. King [King, Robert J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-5607-6355-0
Publisher: Fanversion Publishing
Published: 2016-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Meistersinger Casimir, his face overhung by a dark cloak, stepped from his black carriage. Drawing the hood from his head, he cast back his shock of midnight hair and gazed into the night sky. It was the dark of the moon, when Casimir felt more human than any other time. He turned and lifted a hand to help the weak-bodied Thoris down from the carriage. As Thoris alighted, Casimir breathed the sultry air. “So tonight I wilt be free,” he said dubiously under his breath.

With Thoris on his arm, Casimir stepped slowly up to the door of the temple. It was the same door that had greeted him weeks before—ancient, iron-banded, and thick-set, with forbidding bolts. But one structure on that aged frame had a sharp-edged newness to it: a massive lock set deep in the wood.

“I see my reforms are going well for the church,” he observed wryly, indicating the lock. “I’ve been told that Hie church might try to lock me out.”

“Perhaps it isn’t locked,” Thoris ventured.

The black-haired ruler gazed doubtfully at Thoris as he tried the latch. The door swung silently open on newly cast hinges. With mild surprise, Casimir stared into the moiling darkness within. A faint light glowed in the sanctuary.

“I doubted Gustav would lock out the people,” Thoris said.

“Perhaps not,” Casimir replied, crossing his arms over his chest, “now that the poorhouse alm-seekers are dead.”

Without a word, Thoris pulled his arm from Casimir’s and tottered across the threshold. Regretting his sarcasm, the meistersinger followed and presented his arm for Thoris to lean on. After a few more shaky steps, Thoris accepted the help and the boys entered the sanctuary.

They little recognized the place—only the dark gloom of it looked familiar. The grime that once lined the stone passageways had been scoured away, and the floor beneath their feet was dry and shiny. The musty, cave-like odor was also gone. As they approached the faintly glowing pit where the organ lay, Casimir noted the broad and beautiful banners that ringed the sanctuary. Below them sat rows of repaired and polished seats. But the heart of the sanctuary, the organ, still slouched in disrepair. In the midst of the organ’s skeleton, a stooped figure moved.

Gustav.

“Has Milil returned to his sanctuary?” Casimir cried.

Startled, Gustav spun about to face them. He clutched a nearby organ pipe to keep from falling to the floor. “If Milil has returned, he’ll surely punish you for frightening me!”

With Thoris on his arm, Casimir started slowly down the stairs. “The wrath of the god of music… forgive me if I don’t tremble. What would Milil do, torture me with trumpets?”

Gustav’s smile belied his angry words. “Don’t mock the power of music, lad. Were this organ working, I could play a melody so plaintive as to steal your very soul.”

“You wouldn’t want my soul,” Casimir said soberly.

The old man shrugged off the comment, his watery eyes greeting them and lingering sadly on their wounds. “Your rulership appears to be treating you lads poorly.” He reached out, tentatively setting one hand on each one’s arm.

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