Necromancy for the Greater Good

instruments. That's why she's here. She wants to be a professional carillonneur.”

  “A what?”

  “A carillon player.”

  “You know, that still doesn't explain anything,” Leah said.

  “I can't find that online unless I know how to spell it,” Maryann said, tapping at her phone.

  Nora sighed. “She wants to play an instrument called a carillon. Think of it like an organ, only instead of pipes there are bells. And one of the largest carillons, if not the largest, is at the University of Chicago. I think she's crazy. She spends four years at Berkeley getting a music degree and then decides to move to Chicago to make a living.”

  “I guess she doesn't like fun fun fun in the sun sun sun,” Leah said. “But it is nice of her to let us crash with her. I hope she has enough room.”

  “I think we'll have to double up and probably sleep with the instruments, as you insist on putting it, but there's room.”

  “Better than paying hotel fares. Saving money is good,” Isabella said.

  “Yeah, but I'm really tired of sharing bed space with an amplifier,” Leah retorted.

  They were silent for a few more minutes as Isabella followed the GPS through Chicago to their destination.

  “So, is anyone going to talk about it?” Maryann said.

  “You're going to have to be more specific,” Leah replied dryly.

  “Something's wrong.”

  “That's still not very specific.”

  “You know what I mean,” Maryann said. “At least, I hope you do. Something's wrong. I've been feeling something's wrong for a few weeks now and it's getting stronger. There's a chill in the air.”

  “It's winter,” Leah said flatly. “That's kind of the definition.”

  “Not normal,” she snapped. “Come on, I know I'm not the only one here.”

  Isabella sighed. “You're right. Something's off with the world. I don't know what it is but I've been seeing things out of the corner of my eye.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like snowflakes.”

  “Again, there are snowflakes everywhere,” Leah said.

  “Not inside. I feel drafts of cold wind where I shouldn't. Something's stirred up in the spirit world too.”

  Nora sighed. “I didn't want to say anything, because I usually don't notice these things, but I feel like something's wrong too. I haven't seen anything, or heard anything, but I feel restless and uneasy, like something's going to happen soon and I don't know what.”

  “So I'm the only one who doesn't feel like something's wrong?” Leah asked.

  “Hey, you may be right and we may be crazy,” Isabella said.

  “Your Billy Joel quote does not make me feel better,” she replied sullenly.

  “Don't worry about it. We all have our own gifts and strengths and weaknesses,” Maryann said brightly. “You're an earth girl. It would probably take something really wrong before you notice.”

  “Is that a compliment? Sometimes I just can't tell with you.”

  “It's just how it is,” Maryann said with a shrug.

  Isabella made her way down the plowed streets and to a place to park near Nora's friend's apartment in the South Side of Chicago.

  “And again, parking will bankrupt us,” Leah muttered as they hugged their coats to themselves and trudged through the snow.

  “Please, don't get into that. Sabra is giving us a place to stay,” Nora snapped.

  Sabra Davri was a pretty woman Nora's age. She greeted them warmly and put on her own coat to help them haul their luggage and instruments up to her apartment.

  “You really don't have to do this,” Maryann said on the second trip.

  “I'm happy to help my friend. I haven't seen Nora since I asked her to stand in for me at the Ren Fair. I heard she did a fine job too and my band asked if she could join full time.”

  “Why didn't you tell me that?”

  “You already had a band by that time,” Sabra answered. “Anyway, it's a hard gig and the tips are usually pretty lousy. I'll tell you, even at a place like a Ren Fair where people are dressed up like fairies and pirates and medieval lords, people don't always react very well to my hijab headscarf. But hey, that's their problem, right?”

  “Exactly,” Isabella said firmly.

  “I've got dinner just about ready and I'm very excited to see your show tomorrow. I hope you have time to come to the university with me. I really want you to see the chapel and hear me play.”

  “It won't be a problem,” Nora replied.

  “I didn't even know a carillon was a thing until this afternoon,” Leah said. “So I'm up for seeing what one is and how it's played.”

  “That's great. You know, getting near Christmas is a really good time for the carillon. The bells just seem to fit so well in the winter.” Over dinner, Sabra filled them in on the history of the Rockefeller Chapel's carillon and the specifications of the instrument.

  “Seventy-two bells and a hundred tons of bronze. That is a truly massive instrument,” Leah said.

  The others groaned. “Have you ever met a pun you didn't crack?” Isabella asked.

  “I'll refrain from making one about the Liberty Bell, just for you.”

  The evening passed pleasantly and the next day the band got up early so they could take the tour with Sabra and still have time for some rehearsal before their show. The chapel, a marvel of Gothic architecture and no structural steel, was a sight on its own. Sabra took them first to the practice keyboard.

  “Wow, this thing is way more complicated than I thought,” Maryann said. “It's like an organ keyboard.”

  “Sort of, yes. It's a lot of work to coordinate hands and feet. And the instrument is strange to play since the bells can interfere with each other. I've been working on my own composition, but I just realized how much more I have to learn. Come on, we need to go upstairs and see the real thing.”

  Nora eyed the staircase. “How many stairs?”

  “Um, almost three-hundred.”

  “Great.”

  “Hey, it could be worse,” Sabra said. “You're only taking the tour. I have to go up every time I want to play. And until the mid-60s, the practice cabin was upstairs too. Not quite as high as the actual cabin, but still over two-hundred steps.”

  “I can see how that would get annoying.”

  Isabella in particular seemed fascinated by the bells. It was clear to the other three band members she was not paying full attention to Sabra but they were not going to draw attention to that.

  “They always make me think of that poem by Poe,” Sabra said. “'Hear the sledges with the bells - silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells!' Don't you agree?”

  Everyone but Isabella nodded. She still seemed to be listening to something else.

  After the tour of the chapel, Sabra gave them a short tour of the university until the band had to leave for rehearsal. They parted ways with Sabra for the afternoon.

  “So what were you seeing in the carillon that we weren't?” Leah asked.

  “I wasn't seeing anything. I was hearing the spirit of the carillon,” she answered.

  “Do inanimate objects have spirits?” Nora asked.

  “In my experience, rarely, but maybe I just haven't run into the right kinds of objects. This is an old instrument, and possibly the largest musical instrument in the world. Music animates it. Music gives it spirit,” she said. “It's all about the music. But something's wrong. They were upset. When Sabra recited the poem, I didn't think of the first verse. I thought of the third. 'Hear the loud alarum bells - brazen bells! What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!' Something is coming, and spirit of the bells was warning me.”

  “What do we do?” Maryann asked.

  “We take what precautions we can.”

  “But we don't know what's coming, so how can we protect ourselves?” Nora asked.

  “We try to prepare for
anything at all. Something's happening, and I don't actually think it's coming from the spirit realm, so that eliminates some possibilities.”

  “I'll ask for guidance. Maybe that will help,” Maryann said.

  “And we also have to try to find time to rehearse,” Nora reminded them.

  “I still can't feel anything,” Leah muttered. “But we should make sure our emergency kit is good to go.”

  After a few hours of a scavenger hunt to stock what Leah had dubbed the emergency kit, the band finally started their rehearsal. Sabra and several of her friends were at the show, and they had a pretty long after-party. They returned to Sabra's apartment quite early the next morning. Sabra went to bed, but the others met up in the spare room.

  “There was something wrong during the show,” Leah said immediately. “We hit the notes, we got the applause, but it wasn't right.”

  “There was an echo or something,” Isabella said. “Like some sort of feedback, but not electronic. I think something's happening already.”

  “How do we find it?” Nora asked.

  “I don't know.”

  Leah yawned. “We need to sleep. We can't be driving aimlessly around Chicago in the middle of the night in the middle of winter.”

  “I don't like it, but she's right. There's nothing we can do while sleep-deprived. But first, I'm going to put some protections on this apartment,” Isabella said.

  “I'll ask for protection as well,” Maryann said.

  Soon the band went to bed, but all slept uneasily.

  They awoke in the morning and nothing seemed to have changed.

  “I had a dream last night,” Maryann said.

  “So did I. I dreamt we were lost in a swamp and met the Harlem Globetrotters. It was weird,” Leah replied.

  The others