The Enchanted Sonata

by Heather Dixon Wallwork

High on the roof of the Krystallgradian Symphony Hall, the flutist twisted his flute apart and carefully cleaned it as the sun rose. All across the city and on the prospekt beneath him, toys pinpricked the snow in dark shapes. In the distance, the first parents’ cry sounded. They had found their child. Or rather, what remained of their child.

A twist on the pied piper tale?

Rat traps were large, because rats were large. This one was about the size of a carriage wheel and hadn’t been sprung yet.

Hmmm rodents of unusual size! Like in Princess Bride

And jutting from the landscape like shards of glass: envelopes. At least fifty of them. Nikolai unsteadily dismounted and retrieved one. Prince Nikolai Volkonsky. And the next—Prince Nikolai Volkonsky. Identical letters. Prince Nikolai Volkonsky. Prince Nikolai Volkonsky.

Hogwarts letter scene in Harry Potter but make is horrifying

munificence,

Quite the word

He is coming, Miss Clara Stahlbaum, to your far away country, and now you will play a part in the fairy book you hold in your hands.

Oh shit!

The giant nutcracker, his sword still flashing in the moonlight, turned his head all the way around. His big green eyes fixed on Clara. “Are you all right, Miss Clara?” he said. Clara fled. She couldn’t help it. The shock of it, the rats and the forest and the magician and the fairy and then a giant toy with wild hair and big ears and massive eyes and a mouth that opened and shut like a window shade all staring at her backwards and talking unfroze her feet and she ran.

This made me giggle because of course it’s a lot!

A fairy. Clara knew it now. It stood on her knee, its light creating a fire of warmth, and oh! How beautiful it was! This one wore a dress of white feathers and vine, glittering as though caught in sunlight. The only color to the creature was the rose of her cheeks and her brilliant red hair, which tumbled over her shoulders.

This is how I pictured fairies growing up

The story stopped mid-page, ending with Clara Stahlbaum walked through the snow with the Nutcracker Prince, hurrying to the Abbey Station telegraph office (approximately seven miles NW). Clara stared. The book was fascinating...and sort of creepy, too.

This reminds me of one of the Fear Street stories by RL Stine

Why Do Fairies Let Bad Things Happen to Good People?”

The age old question but in reference to God

She looked in the mirror and saw her blue eyes shining and her red lips sort of smiling, and the outfit made her look a simple sort of pretty, one that said, You mustn’t kiss me, but I can let you borrow this library book.

Every day, Erik was a silent eclipse on the theater catwalks and mezzanine boxes, listening to the music. After rehearsal, he would return to the depths of the theater, where he would compose and play his flute, the piano, and the organ, for hours. The musicians would sometimes awake at night and groggily consider the distant music a beautiful dream.

Reminds me of Phantom of the Opera

playing pieces backwards and forwards,

Foreshadowing? The way to break the spell is to play the piece backwards perhaps