Trill Changes Her Tune

by Gail Herman

  Cleff’s chin jutted out. His eyes narrowed. Ignoring Trill, he flicked his wrist. His musicians sounded their first note, then their second. Music streamed out into the clear moonlit night.

  Cleff spread his arms, signaling a break in the piece.

  “Now!” Trill told herself.

  She nodded to her fairies and waved the quill. Right away, her musicians began to play. They were fewer in number, but they played with all their hearts. New sounds, different music, echoed over the waves.

  Trill caught her breath, and Cleff took over. His musicians stood up now, ready to play more loudly.

  When Cleff paused, Trill’s side came in. Then Cleff’s side. Then Trill’s. Each time, the musicians played more loudly. The bands battled on and on.

  The music swelled. Neither side was resting. Everyone was playing at once. Frowning, their backs to one another, Trill and Cleff kept conducting.

  Ta-da, ta-da. Ta-da, ta-ta-da. Notes melded together. Boom, sweep, boom. The two types of music became one. T-t-t-tweet, sh-shush, bing, boom, whooooo. The music talents blended sounds unlike anything heard before.

  Why, it’s lovely, Trill thought. Her frown faded. Then it changed into a smile. Slowly, she turned toward Cleff. He was smiling, too!

  Together, they led the orchestra. This was music at its best. All the musicians joined together, playing as one.

  The piece ended. The audience rose into the air, clapping wildly.

  “Bravo!” called Tink.

  “Hooray for Cleff and Trill!” Beck shouted.

  Trill reached for Cleff’s hand. And together they bowed.

  AFTER THE SYMPHONY, Trill glowed with pride. Fairies and sparrow men rushed to her side. Cleff was surrounded, too. In seconds, a sea of admirers separated the two musicians.

  “Congratulations! That was so special! You did an amazing job!” fairies and sparrow men shouted out.

  Trill gazed over everyone’s heads.

  Her eyes met Cleff’s. She nodded, then made her way closer.

  “Who’d have thought?” Cleff said with a smile. “Our symphony was a smashing success!”

  Just then, Jango raced over. He was covered head to toe in stringy spiderweb.

  “Did I miss it?” he panted loudly. “Is the concert over?”

  “Yes!” Trill cried. “Where were you? What happened?”

  “I went looking for a spiderweb, like you said, Trill. But the web was so sticky, I got caught! I just got out now!”

  “Oh, it’s all my fault,” Trill groaned. She felt terrible.

  But Jango was smiling.

  “It’s okay! I listened to the music. I loved it!” He turned to Cleff. “And because I was listening, just listening, I came up with all these ideas for the next symphony. Can we talk later?”

  Trill caught her breath. Would Cleff be willing to listen to someone else’s ideas now? New ideas?

  “Sure,” said Cleff. “I’d be happy to.” He grinned at Trill. “Sometimes it pays to experiment.”

  Trill grinned back. “And sometimes it doesn’t pay at all.” She rubbed her elbow, which was still a little sore from scraping against the porcupine’s log.

  “Sometimes things are done a certain way for a reason,” Trill went on. “I took everything way too far. That clover could have been itchy ivy. And those porcupine quills…” Trill shivered. She could have been seriously hurt instead of having a scraped elbow.

  She picked some web off Jango’s wing. “Poor Jango. I gave you awful advice. You might have been stuck in that web for days!”

  All around Trill, Jango, and Cleff, musicians hugged and chatted. Ariette and Lyra stood side by side. “I’d fly backward if I could,” Ariette told Lyra.

  “No, I’d fly backward,” Lyra said to Ariette.

  No one was angry. The argument had ended along with the concert.

  “I guess both types of music have a place,” Trill said in a loud, clear voice. “Both sides are right.”

  Fairies and sparrow men turned toward her, listening. And that was just fine with Trill. Sure, she’d made mistakes. And she’d probably make more. But she wouldn’t feel embarrassed about speaking her mind. Everyone’s ideas should be heard.

  The next day, Trill led Cleff to the banks of the Wough River. They sat on the same birch tree where Trill had heard the nightingale’s song.

  “This is nice,” Cleff told her. He turned his head, listening to the water’s rumble. “Very nice.”

  A woodpecker perched on the next branch. Tap, tap, tap. Rumble, rumble. Trill and Cleff took in all the sounds. Bzzz! They jumped at the buzzing of a bee. Then they both smiled.

  “I’ve been looking for you, Trill!” Just as on that other day, Beck was flying nearby.

  “Really!” Trill called back, not hesitating a bit.

  “They’re over here!” Beck shouted to Strad. The instrument maker was flying more slowly. In her hand she had a bulky leaf-bag.

  Cleff met the two fairies halfway. Then, at the same time, he, Strad, and Beck crowded around Trill and shouted, “Surprise!” Strad held out the bag.

  “Wh-wh-what?” Trill couldn’t figure out what was going on.

  “This is for you,” Cleff told Trill.

  Cleff reached inside the bag and pulled out brand-new panpipes—made from porcupine quills.

  “Beck found your quills and gave them to me,” Strad told Trill. “I pulled a second all-nighter, making this instrument. But it was definitely worth it. I have to admit, it’s another work of art. Try it out.”

  Trill took the panpipes in her hands. They weren’t sharp at all. And they felt lighter than her old ones. Different. She blew across an opening. Whoo! The sound was different, too. More airy.

  “I like it!” Cleff declared. “What about you?”

  “Yes!” Trill said. And she did. Still, she couldn’t help wondering—did everyone expect her to use these now, and forget about her old panpipes? She touched the instrument slung at her side.

  Cleff chuckled. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to give up your old pipes.”

  Trill laughed. She’d have the best of everything, new and old.

  “You can play either one at Fawn’s Arrival Day celebration,” Beck told Trill. “Everyone’s meeting at the animal tunnel entrance.”

  “Let’s get the musicians!” said Cleff.

  Trill grinned. “And all the instruments. So we can play together.”

  They flew in opposite directions to gather their friends. Trill flew toward the mouth of Havendish Stream. Cleff flew toward the far corner of the orchard. But minutes later, everyone met by the tunnel—right in the middle.