Commitment Hour Read Online Free PDF Page A

smoke bomb that made us sick was only the beginning—everywhere he went, he must leave behind poxes and pestilence. In fact, he might be Master Disease himself, god of evil, hater of life.
    The thought chilled me…but the Elders told many tales of Master Disease walking the earth. To face him, you needed courage; to banish him, you needed the magic of the heart.
    Painfully, I dragged myself out of the water onto the shore. The breeze had thinned the stink he called “tear gas”; my eyes were nearly swollen shut, but my strength was coming back. Off to my right, Cappie furtively gestured toward the knife, lying on reeds where the knight had kicked it. I ignored her—a mere knife couldn’t hurt Master Disease. Even if it penetrated his armor, the blade would simply release a tornado of sickness to ravage our village.
    Instead of the knife, I crawled toward the violin. Music has boundless purifying power, and I knew my playing was our only defence against this evil. The Patriarch taught that a song can banish devils of fear, and a war chant can summon angels of victory. Defeating Master Disease might take more than a simple tune, but I could do it. I was the only person in the village who could.
    The violin and bow lay where I’d left them. Both were dirty. I ran my fingers lightly along the bow-hairs, trying to clean off the sludge without removing too much rosin as well. I don’t know if it helped—my fingers were gritty with mud—but I brushed off the worst clots, propped my back against a nearby log, and prepared to play.
    A smack of muck hit me in the leg. Cappie wanted my attention—she gestured again toward the knife. Ignoring her, I readied my bow over the strings.
    I intended the first sweep of the bow to sound a strident challenge: E flat minor, the most challenging chord I knew. The chord didn’t have quite the attack I wanted because the dirt on the bow weakened the rosin’s grip on the strings; but the sound was loud enough to grab the knight’s attention. He shoved himself in front of the Neut and turned to face me, his hands raised and pointing toward me like a wrestler waiting to grapple.
    “Ha!” I said.
    “I beg your pardon?” he replied.
    “Ha!” I said again and played a B flat arpeggio.
    The knight lowered his hands and half turned to the Neut. “What’s he doing, Steck?”
    “Playing my violin,” the Neut answered.
    I played another E flat minor chord.
    “Sounds like an E minor chord,” the Neut said.
    “E flat minor!” I shouted.
    “Oh. That’s a lot harder,” the Neut told the knight. “He’s trying to impress us.”
    “I’m trying to exorcise you,” I said.
    “Me?” the Neut asked.
    “Him,” I said, pointing the bow at the knight. “Master Disease.”
    The Neut laughed and put Its arm around the knight’s waist. “He thinks you’re Master Disease!”
    “Who’s Master Disease?”
    “A god.”
    “I see.” The knight sloshed a few steps toward me. “Young man, I’m not a god, I’m a scientist. We’re like gods, but more irresponsible.”
    “You’re lying,” I said. “The Patriarch killed all the scientists.” I began a finger exercise in C. No point playing in a difficult key if my enemy had a poor sense of pitch.
    “Steck!” the knight said sharply, rounding on the Neut. “Why didn’t you tell me they think all scientists are dead? You know I don’t want to offend local sensibilities.”
    “I forgot.”
    “How stupid do you think I am?” the knight asked. Without waiting for an answer, he turned back to me and said, “Your Patriarch, though his wisdom encircled the globe, overlooked a tiny enclave of scientists far away on the other side of the planet. We survived, and were duly chastened by the just retribution wrought by the Patriarch on our fellows. Now we have changed our ways; we pursue only the good.”
    “How stupid do you think we are?” Cappie said quietly.
    “I didn’t know till I tried,” the knight answered cheerfully.