15
‘Now that we’re here,’ I said, as we trudged upstairs towards the grander halls, ‘how does one go about mending the lyre?’
‘I don’t know, precisely,’ said my father. ‘But it is to do with its song. Something has been altered in its melody.
‘Which means what?’
‘Means it needs to remember how it used to sing.’
‘Vague.’
‘It is the best I’ve got.’
‘Then we’ll take it. Are these old songs recorded somewhere, by chance?’
‘That is my hope. There used to be a library, of sorts.’
‘I love libraries.’
He smiled sideways at me. ‘We have that in common. But the library I speak of is not quite what you’re thinking. This is the Library of Music, and while it has some books of written melodies, the majority of its collections are composed of other records.’
‘Such as?’
‘You’ll see.’
On our
