The Music Box Chapter 4

Chapter 4.

 

A Clock for a King.

 

          Miya insisted on an early night so she could hear more of the story. Once she was tucked in, her mother continued.

“Jack was repairing the mayor’s watch. He was still bent, and he still didn’t go out much, but the witch had kept her promise, the pain in his back was gone. He could lift his head now, slowly and stiffly, but without agony.

“The music box sat on his bench. Jack tried again and again to find a spring that would make it work, but every one he bought or made was wrong, too thick, too weak, or snapping the moment he turned the key.

“With the pain gone, he worked better than ever. The shop was always busy. People came from all over the kingdom to buy his clocks or have their old ones repaired.

“And still, every evening, he sat with his pad and pencil, sketching designs for marvellous clocks with moving scenes that came to life on the hour.

“‘One day,’ he told his father, ‘I shall build one of these.’

“His father laughed. ‘It would take a prince to afford one!’”

A few weeks after Jack finished the clockwork knight, the shop door opened and a richly dressed footman stepped inside.

“His Royal Highness, Prince Rogan!”

He stood aside, and the prince entered.

Jack’s father bowed low. “Your Highness.”

“Sorry about that,” Prince Rogan said cheerfully. “They insist on announcing me. Now, I’m told you make the finest timepieces in the kingdom.”

“N‑not I, sire,” Jack’s father said nervously. “My son Jack makes them.”

“Then I’d like to meet this genius,” the prince smiled.

Jack’s father led him into the workroom. Jack tried to rise, but the prince placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Stay seated, my friend. It’s easier for you. I’ll sit here.”

He pulled up a stool. The shop bell tinkled, and Jack’s father excused himself.

“Now,” said Prince Rogan, “I have a commission. My father’s fiftieth birthday is coming, and I want something truly special. He loves clocks. My wife, Princess Aidel, suggested I come to you, your fame has reached the palace.”

Jack’s heart thumped. This might be his chance to build one of his dream designs.

“I have drawings,” he said. He fetched a bundle of papers and handed them over.

The first design showed two knights, one black, one white, who came out and fought a duel every hour. The black knight always won.

Prince Rogan shuddered and pushed the drawing away.

“Not that one.”

“Sire?” Jack was puzzled. It was one of his favourites.

“I’ve spent weeks searching for a knight in black armour,” the prince said quietly. “Mine is white. I doubt my father would enjoy watching me lose every hour.”

Jack put the design away and spread out the others. The prince studied them and chose one.

“I like this. Can you build it?”

“Yes, sire.”

“Good. It must be ready in three months. And… I suppose I should ask the price.”

“It will be ready,” Jack said firmly. “I’ve wanted to build one of these for years. My father handles the money, I only build.”

The prince smiled, then noticed the music box on the bench.

“I see you make music boxes too.”

“Oh no, I didn’t make that one,” Jack said quickly. “I’ve been trying to mend it for months, but I can’t find a spring for it. I had one once, but… I had to use it for something else.”

“A shame. It’s beautiful.” The prince turned it in his hands, admiring the carving. He opened it and saw the tiny dancer folded on the stage. “She looks as if she’s waiting to get up and dance.”

“It isn’t really mine,” Jack said. “A witch left it here.”

Prince Rogan put it down sharply. “A witch? What was she doing here?”

“She wanted me to make a clockwork man.”

The prince’s eyes widened. “And did you?”

Jack sighed. “Yes. She promised to take away my pain. She brought a suit of armour, and I built her a wind‑up knight. I thought she’d make me straight, but she only laughed. Still… she kept her word about the pain.”

“What colour was the armour?” Prince Rogan demanded.

“You could say black, sire. Or… no colour at all.”

“At last!” the prince exclaimed. “Do you know where she took it?”

Jack shook his head. “She told us to put it outside. By morning it was gone.”

“Pity. Still, that’s more news than I’ve had so far.”

“Why are you looking for him?” Jack asked.

Prince Rogan’s face darkened. “Perhaps you haven’t heard. Magalan put a spell on my brother, Prince Roban. She said it would break when the Dark Knight breaks down and is seen to weep. We thought she meant a knight in black armour, but now…”

“But if my clockwork man is the Dark Knight, he can’t weep,” Jack protested.

“Magalan said she took Roban’s brain,” Rogan said quietly. “She needed one for the clockwork man. That might be why it can weep.”

Jack went pale. “Oh dear. I think… I think I may have put that idea into her head. I told her the only way the knight could be better was if it had a real brain. I’m so sorry.”

Prince Rogan patted his shoulder. “You’re not to blame. She’s evil. She would have done something like that anyway.”

“But why would Calizone—?”

“It wasn’t Calizone,” Rogan said. “It was Magalan, disguised as her. My family imprisoned her years ago, trapped her in a mirror. The spell must have ended. She escaped. She wants revenge.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jack whispered. “We’d never met Calizone. When the woman said she was a witch, we assumed…”

“Not your fault,” Rogan said. “Magalan can look like anyone.”

He stood. “Now, you begin the clock. I’ll speak to your father about the price.”

“Yes, sire.”

After that, Prince Rogan visited often to see how the clock progressed. They became friends. Jack showed him how watches worked and even let him mend a few. In return, the prince told Jack about life at the palace and brought a miniature painting of his newborn son, Aidan.

“You know,” the prince said once, “I’m only a prince by accident of birth. But you, you’re a prince of craftsmen.”