Psychopomp Magazine Fall 2015 | Page 37

Llanwyre Laish | 37

escape into the woods, taking its powerful song with it. And so we design. Our new bird has two emerald eyes and silver feathers with intricate cutouts designed to catch the light when it lifts its wings. Two tiny nares lined with onyx accent its beak. Along its back we intersperse inlays of precious metals and stones. We aim to blind and dazzle the Emperor, just as he has blinded and dazzled our workers.

We enjoy each other's company and the warm joy of genuine collaboration. Eo and I share tea and laugh often. Our night work leaves us exhausted, but we find that the Cabinet hums fine without us. Our workers, caught up in their own competitive dramas, hardly notice their absent supervisors. We channel our disdain into our clockwork miracle.

The music box confounds us; our creature moves realistically, but he sings mechanically. We pause to consider the problem, and I turn back to the garden. Patches of the garden no longer sing a single note: some bells chime in pleasant harmonies. I check our order sheets; we still order only one type of bell. I work to locate my clever musician. My assistant points me to Ani, but I am not a fool, and so I follow Ons. Sure enough, I see him use his tweezers to reshape the little bells before tying them on. His creativity has not slowed him, for he can tie a day's worth of bells in only a few hours. He now amuses himself by adding whimsy to our valueless endeavor.

I approach him that evening as the workers trudge to the longhouse for their dinners. He has a bit of spring in his step now, and I know that he takes pride in his work. "Ons, I have noticed your good work in altering the bells. I would like to ask for your help." He looks at me warily, but he follows me back to my office. "I am making a music box for the Emperor."

He sneers. "Why would I want to help make anything for that madman?"

His use of my own word pleases me. I feel a bond of kinship, and so I tell him the truth: "I mean to trick him."

My words have an unexpected effect. He pulls away from me, startled, raising his hands as if in defense. "Absolutely not," he says, never uncertain in his response. "No good comes of opposing the Emperor."