It did not normally like to draw so close to the churning river. Excess moisture was not good for it, and besides, the riverbanks were steep. Generally speaking, pianos were not good at swimming or climbing up cliff-like slopes, and it did not like to think about what kind of terrible effort it must undergo to extricate itself if it fell in.

Today was special, however, because the talking rat amused it. Many were not clever enough to consider the possibility that seemingly-inanimate objects were alive. Dangerous, even. It caught much of its prey through trickery like this, sitting still with its lid open and waiting for some poor Lesser Gembound to crawl in looking for shelter. The similarity between it and the Generator amused and intrigued The Piano, and so it approached on its three brass-like wheels.

It waited for one long minute for the Generator to respond, and cast out its magic to search for any sign of a heartbeat. It could mean little if it failed to find one; after all, The Piano too lacked a heartbeat, and it was alive. But the presence of a heartbeat would be certain to confirm the answer. Nothing dead had a heartbeat.

(It knew, from countless fascinated spell attempts. Before, and after, its prey died.)

"It does not have a heartbeat," it finally informed the rat, and drew closer, seemingly unconcerned that no one had invited it there. "That in itself does not mean it is not alive. I do not have a heartbeat either. More telling, I think, is the fact that it does not speak."

I speak went unsaid. The syllables cascading from its keys, hammers, and strings confirmed that much. Its voice, seemingly a collection of indistinct pitch at first, mimicked the rise and fall of a normal Gembound's speech. The longer you listened to it, the clearer its initially-garbled consonants seemed to become.

The Piano waited for a response, and wondered to itself if this rat would treat it with the same fascination it had treated the Generator with. It thought it deserved at least twice that amount, seeing as how it could speak. If not--

Perhaps it would eat the rat to vent its unsatisfied need for recognition.

The rat's sophistication was simply delightful. The Piano rather admired his smooth way of speaking and intelligent manner. "It is wonderful to meet you, Archimedes," it began, the hard k sound getting slightly swallowed up by its way of speaking. "You may call me The Piano. The sounds of my name are not easily mimicked by Gembound like you." Which seemed to be the vast majority, if not all, of the Gembound who roamed these caves. It had found a piano like it once in the Palace, but that piano did not speak back to it. The Piano had been young then, and could not tell if it had been not-alive or simply looked down on it too much to respond. I should go back and check again, it thought.

"And your companion?" it prompted, when the Golden Charger did not introduce itself. In its experience, snakes of its shape and color were simple prey animals, without the intelligence of Gembound like itself. But it did not wish to assume based on appearances. After all, The Piano was one being that utterly defied expectations, and Archimedes did as well, in a different way.

"There is no need to crane your head up if it is uncomfortable," it added, out of consideration for its much smaller conversation partner. "I do not mind if you are not looking directly at my face. I do not have a traditional face." A hint of humor made its way into its voice, never mind how that was possible. (Perhaps it was the addition of higher tones into the keysmashes that made up its words?)

"Indeed," it confirmed, "But there are not many Pianos in the world, I think, so it will not cause confusion if you simply refer to me as The Piano."

It clacked its keys absently, sounding a few dissonant notes, as it pondered the idea of having a Lesser Gembound that one could own. What did it mean, that the Charger was his? What might it be like to have an animal that was its? It liked the idea of owning a Lesser like this, having something it could command and have at its beck and call. But it did not really know what it would do with it. It did not have any need of a steed, like the rat did. Still, it considered this a cool idea, so to speak.

"It does seem useful to have a living being be yours like that," it commented. "Perhaps you could enlighten me as to how you accomplished it? The idea is fascinating to me." It did not comment further on the subject of the snake's name. It supposed it did not really need a name, if "Archimedes's snake" was a unique enough identifier.

"It is not rude at all," it replied to the rat's question. "It is my pleasure to share the work of art that is my shape with one as intelligent as you, who will understand and appreciate it. I move on my wheels--I will demonstrate." The Piano wheeled itself toward Archimedes a small distance. "I can eat anything, though rabbits are a favorite. Meaty, and not too dirty. They come close, unsuspecting, because they do not think that something like me is a living threat. Then--" It tried to form teeth on its strings, for a more obvious visual, but its magic did not come. No matter; it was capable of eating either way, and it was sure Archimedes could figure it out without the teeth.

A dozen strings detached themselves from its key mechanisms and flew outside The Piano's innards. They mimed the motion of grabbing something, withdrew back inside, and its lid slammed shut with terrifying momentum and a loud CRASH!. It took a moment to reattach its strings before speaking. "Like that," it declared with satisfaction.

The Piano fell silent, watching with mildly guilty confusion, as Archimedes's snake fell into a panic. It had not thought its little demonstration was so frightening--at least, it had thought that the rat would have had the snake under greater control. Perhaps there was no overcoming the limitations of a Lesser mind, no matter how intelligent the tamer.

"I thank you, and apologize for giving your snake such a scare,", it replied to the rat, and did treble tones in the keysmashes that comprised its voice suggest a note of sincerity in its apology? "I see. So your will overcomes its Lesser instincts, and it will do as you command." It was liking this idea--this power and control over a creature to do its bidding--more and more. It sounded so useful that surely even a grand piano like itself, powerful on its own, could find some use for it somewhere.

"But do tell me more about these efforts," it prompted eagerly. "I may be perfectly capable on my own, but I know that the greatest music is played in synchrony with others. I am always curious about opportunities to work together, especially with one so cunning and sophisticated." For all the music for piano solo out there, it had always craved the added texture of duets, quintets, and entire imagined symphonies.

Archimedes wasn't a living instrument like itself, but the metaphor for cooperation still stood, The Piano thought.

The Piano settled into a relaxed, dreamlike state as it listened to Archimedes's monologue. It even envisioned creative imagery of what the life he described would be like. Hundreds of gleaming animal eyes turning on them with reverence and admiration, reliance and awe... as a creature born for the performing stage, such a life was everything The Piano had ever dreamed of. It did not seem to matter too much to it that conventional music-making was very little of what they'd actually be doing. No, as it had told the Collector before, The Piano was an accepting, tolerant Gembound when it came down to it. It was embracing of all forms of music and artistry.

And what was this way of life if not an art? The art of subtlety, crafting, and trade. Already, romanticized images of a powerful, mafia-like organization were running through The Piano's mind. It imagined itself beside Archimedes, tall, silent, and imposing. It imagined its lid lifting and an ominous melody rising from its bass notes in a show of intimidation, or a pleasant, light aria as background music for negotiations. "I could see myself as a diplomat, or a--restorer of order, as you say," it decided. And oh, it was excited about this!

Hundreds of gleaming ivory teeth pushed their way out from between the spirals of the winding metallic material of its strings. One by one they detached from their mechanisms and reached outside their cavity, waving softly in the air like myriad octopus tentacles floating through water. "I imagine this could be useful to our clients. Ah- forgive my presumptive wording, but if you would make use of my skills, I would be delighted to join such an organization..." Its words became more and more garbled as more strings were detached and reached outside The Piano's innards, until the up-and-down patterns of its voice were barely recognizable as speech.

Archimedes's next words snapped it back to a more normal topic of conversation. "Ahh, yes!" it exclaimed, withdrawing its teeth-studded strings back to their normal mechanisms. Its tone sounded a bit hard and much less resonant from all the added bite implements interfering with its strings' vibrations, but that was the price you paid for awesome and horrifying intimidation skills. "Music, the art for which I was born to perform! Ah- perhaps I will wait to demonstrate until the teeth have faded. I sound much better without them! But it is the art of weaving melodies with your voice. Of singing. Of weaving multiple voices together, to build upon and harmonize with each other. To create amazing textures and colors--only growing more complex and delightful as the number of voices grows! To have back-and-forth and simultaneous conversations in counterpoint, and to evoke powerful emotion in the listener! Like speaking, but everything can be achieved without words, merely by bending the pitch and tone of your voice!"

It paused and moved its hammers up and down. It was rather tiring to speak with teeth on its strings. "I can play multiple voices and contrasting lines at the same time, or play harmonies and chords that change the mood of the melody they accompany! Such is the beauty of my design. But anyone can make music, alone or in tandem with others, if they choose, with nothing but their voice! --There is one known as the Collector in Canis, too, who has instruments one may use to make music without their own voice. Or to use at the same time as their voice! The possibilities are endless."