But the herders shook their heads. “A heart of clockwork cannot truly freeze,” said the eldest. “It only waits for the right key.” One night, a strange wind rattled the herders’ cabin. It carried the scent of burned sugar and copper. A knock came at the door. Standing in the snow was a young girl of maybe ten years old. She wore mismatched boots, goggles pushed up her forehead, and carried a violin case made of riveted brass.
“Jack,” she whispered. “You came back frozen.” jack and the cuckoo clock heart 2
“I’m sorry,” she said politely. “Do I know you?” Jack realized that the only way to break the overwind was to introduce a wrong note—a beautiful, painful wrong note. He couldn’t kiss her (his last kiss had nearly killed her). He couldn’t shout (his voice still cracked with storms). But he could sing the song he had composed the night they first danced: “The Cuckoo’s Lament.” But the herders shook their heads