To Change a Lost Tune

Short story by Jade C. Wildy

Everyone living in The Maze knew that setting out into the unknown parts of the extensive labyrinth was to invite a wrong turn. However, this was precisely what Strummer had done after the lacklustre response his performance had received at Slowturn’s only tavern.

“We’ve ‘eard that one,” a burly man had shouted. “And the one before.” The man proceeded to talk over Strummer’s love-ballad, and by the time the bard reached his crescendo, the crowd had lost interest entirely.

Now, Strummer sat nursing his third ale. He had only earned enough coin for a few more nights lodging in a town that found him boring. He regarded his battered lute. “The same old song is playing out in every village now, Old Friend.” He finished his ale and signalled to the publican for a refill, despite being deep in his cups.

“My shout,” a female voice said from behind him.

Strummer turned to find a dark-haired woman. The cut of her clothes was strange, and her hair was an almost unnatural hue, but she smiled affably as she sat across from him. She propped her head on her hand. “Tough crowd.”

Strummer wasn’t sure what she meant. “Indeed, they are a raucous bunch.”

She waved off his words as the ales arrived. “I loved it. Where I come from, the music is less... alive. We’re starved for good entertainment. That’s partly why I came here.”

“What I wouldn’t give to play for an appreciative audience,” Strummer said, patting his lute. “Where might I find such a crowd?”

“The place is called Crackbreak. They’ll love you, but you’ll need this.” From somewhere about her person, she produced a small metal box.

Strummer studied it, noting a series of musical keys down one side.

“Last drinks!” the publican called.

“I have never heard of such a place,” Strummer said to the woman as he puzzled over the box.

“I guess you could say it’s new, but they don’t get many bards,” she said.

To Strummer’s ale-sodden ears, it sounded perfect. “How do I get there?”

“I’ll give you directions.”

Strummer held up a finger, then searched his pack for a scrap of parchment and a quill. He couldn’t memorize Maze directions in his present state. The publican came to stand over the table, hands on hips.

The woman gave him the list of twists and turns to get him to Crackbreak, finishing with, “And don’t forget to use the box.”

Under the publican’s glare, Strummer shoved the box into his pack and gave the smiling stranger his thanks. He set out along the back-paths of the Maze armed with a head full of ale, his hastily scribbled directions, and fanciful imaginings of an ecstatic audience applauding his performance.

That had been hours ago.

Strummer consulted his directions. “Crackbreak should be right here,” he thought. Instead, high stone walls stretched out in both directions. Returning to Slowturn meant more hours of walking in the dark, and without knowing where he went wrong, he could be in even more trouble.

“I’m done for! People walking this path will find my skeleton and say, ‘Here lies lost Strummer, the least original bard!’” He threw the parchment down, followed by his pack, which dislodged the metal box.

The box rattled across the cobblestones, causing a flute-like sound. Strummer picked it up and pressed a key. It sounded like a panpipe, but he couldn’t see what mechanism produced the sounds. He pressed another key, and almost dropped the box as a faded village flickered into view. It was quite unlike anything he had seen before. He crept towards it, but it disappeared, only to be replaced by the now familiar stone walls.

“What?” He pressed a key on the metal box. The scene reappeared, and, with another note, it sharpened. Strummer took a deep breath and played a song. The Maze ahead was replaced with strange buildings lit by fireless lanterns. Carts moved without horses and there were people dressed like the strange woman. The walls of the Maze could be seen in the distance, but they looked like metal rather than stone.

It was The Maze, but changed into something beyond his wildest imagination. Strummer lifted his belongings, and still playing his song on the metal box, stepped through to a new world — one that he could change for the better.