Instrument of Peace (Symphony of the Cursed Book 1)

by Rebecca Hall

“What do you think?” Mitch coughed and waved at the rubbish bin filled with used tissues.

  “You want breakfast?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll come back at lunch,” Bates said and left. Mitch glared at the door. He was wide awake now and he didn’t like his chances of getting back to sleep. He scanned his bookshelf instead and grabbed his battered copy of The Eye of the World, prized for its lack of characters named Harry and a magic system that didn’t rely on silly words and magic sticks.

  He was still reading when someone else knocked at the door. He frowned, the mystery knocker was far too polite to be Bates or Richard even though a glance at his alarm clock confirmed that it was time for morning break.

  “Come in,” he said, his voice a hoarse rasp that wouldn’t carry to the door in a hundred years. He coughed and got up to open the door. “Mr McCalis?” Surely he had better things to do than check on sick students. Bates might have lied for him if he wanted to pull a sicky but Nikola wouldn’t. Mitch returned to his bed and the box of tissues and Mr McCalis closed the door behind him.

  “Your speciality is self-manipulation is it not Mr Mitchell?” Mitch nodded and grabbed his drink bottle, he knew better than to think he’d be able to get through the whole conversation without talking and the water might help a little though it was almost empty. “Self-manipulation can do more than just enhance your physical abilities Mr Mitchell, you can use it to heal yourself as well. I expect you to be in third period.”

  He left and Mitch seriously considered throwing his alarm clock after him. Sure, he could heal himself in theory, in practice it wasn’t something he had ever tried. It wasn’t exactly something that they could teach in class; not deliberately anyway, Mitch had had plenty of scrapes and bruises over the last few years that had been purely accidental.

  He checked the time again. Ten minutes to master a new type of magic, shower and get to class. Mitch scowled, he might be able to shower in ten minutes but he expected healing himself to take longer. He started working on the magic; Mr McCalis had never said he had to be on time. The bell had gone by the time he finished and he was starving. The magic itself hadn’t been that hard but mustering the necessary concentration when his head felt as if it was stuffed with cotton wool was. Using magic always left him hungry and dinner had been a long time ago. He hadn’t even managed to clear his plate. He dragged out a chocolate bar and a packet of chips, the only food he had left after the holidays, and wolfed them down. They might get plenty of food at meal times but the dining room was always closed during class.

  By the time he made it to third period there were only five minutes left.

  “Report to Dr Dalman’s office,” the teacher said when he tried to sneak through the door.

  “What?” He knew he was a little late but the principal’s office seemed extreme, it wasn’t as if he’d just decided to cut class.

  “You heard me, Mr Mitchell.”

  Mitch opened and shut his mouth a couple of times, trying to think of some sort of response and settled for slamming the door behind him. He was probably going to be late for fourth period now as well. He should have let Mr McCalis put him in detention.

  “Wait over there and Dr Dalman will see you when she’s free,” the receptionist said when he stomped into the main office. Mitch decided to wait on one of the chairs instead of the pot plant she’d waved to. One of the chairs was already occupied.

  “What’re you doing here?” he asked. He had a hard time imagining Angel Girl misbehaving in class.

  Angel Girl shrugged, “I think Dr Dalman wants to see how I’m settling in. What are you doing here?”

  “I was late to class,” Mitch said. The bell rang, signalling the end of third period. Mitch watched her out of the corner of his eye, anyone else would have made a crack about how late he’d been but Angel Girl remained silent, her eyes fixed on the painting decorating the opposite wall. Mitch had never realised how blue her eyes were before. He studied her more intently, something about her presence was nagging him but he couldn’t place it. She sat with her back straight and legs crossed, her wavy hair tied back and her clothes perfect. Her hands were folded together in her lap, gripped together so tightly that the knuckles had turned white. She seemed awfully nervous for someone who was just here for a progress report.

  “Is everything ok?” Mitch asked as the silence began to stretch; much longer and it would be doing yoga.

  “Fine,” she said, her cheeks flushing.

  “Are you sure?” Mitch said. A golden light was beginning to burn through her sleeve where he assumed the Archangel feather was.

  The door to the principal’s office opened and Dr Dalman ushered Hikari into the foyer. Mitch’s eyes widened, Hikari never got in trouble.

  “Best hurry to your next class Miss Akiyama, give my apologies to your teacher.”

  “Of course Dr Dalman,” Hikari scurried away.

  “I’m ready for you now Miss...” she trailed off when she saw them, “I do hope you’re not in trouble Mr Mitchell.”

  Mitch gulped, “I was a little late to class.”

  Dr Dalman sighed, “I’ll see you next. Miss Lake?”

  “I’m sorry?” Hayley said, blinking at them both.

  “This way Miss Lake,” Dr Dalman said, standing aside so Hayley could enter her office.

  “Oh, right.” She got to her feet and braced herself against the wall before crossing the foyer. Mitch thought she’d just stood a little fast but she seemed unsteady as she crossed the room and stopped just short of Dr Dalman.

  “Miss Lake.”

  “I... the curse,” she breathed. She staggered back a couple of steps before tripping over her feet. “It shouldn’t be here,” she gasped, still trying to push herself away from Dr Dalman. “It wasn’t meant for you. It’s not yours. It shouldn’t be here.” Mitch could hear the pleading in her voice, the desperation edged with hysteria. He shifted uneasily, even when he’d screamed at her in the library Hayley hadn’t seemed so unsettled.

  “There are no curses here Miss Lake,” Dr Dalman said, kneeling at her side, “they’re forbidden.” Mitch scowled; he could think of at least one curse that was here though he very much wished that it wasn’t. Dr Dalman reached out to place a comforting hand on Hayley’s shoulder but she twisted away and retched. Dr Dalman jerked her hand away, her fingertips blistered and burnt.

  Mitch got to his feet, wondering what he should do. They’d been warned of the dangers of out of control magic but those warnings hadn’t included a lot of practical advice on what to do when someone actually lost control. He’d never thought that Hayley might be a pyromancer but there was no mistaking the burns steadily spreading up Dr Dalman’s hand.

  “Hayley?” Mitch asked. Hayley retched again and rolled away from Dr Dalman to huddle against the wall.

  “Mr Mitchell, I would appreciate it if you escorted Miss Lake to the infirmary. I believe you will be able to use your magic to protect yourself.”

  Mitch nodded; he’d had a couple of lessons with fire, though that had been fire not pure blistering heat. He supposed it was the same basic principle. Burns were still spreading up Dr Dalman’s arms.

  “Would you like me to return afterwards Ma’am?”

  “What? No, you hardly need me to lecture you about tardiness, just don’t make a habit of it.”

  Mitch approached Hayley slowly, bracing himself for the scalding heat. It never came and he was able to pull her to her feet without getting burnt. She felt cold and clammy and her clothes were damp with sweat. She leaned into his hold, shivering violently, and Mitch abandoned the magic he’d gathered in preparation for the scalding heat and focused on strengthening himself to support her weight instead.

  “Fiona,” Dr Dalman said turning to the receptionist, “get the door for Mr Mitchell and call the infirmary would you?”

  “Yes Ma’am,” Fiona hurried out from behind the desk and held the door open. They got halfway there before Hayley slumped, unconscious. Mitch pi
cked her up carefully, relying on his magically enhanced muscles to take the strain. She was heavier than he’d expected, she was built like a stick insect, but he supposed most of it was muscle. He had to turn sideways and crab walk out of the door but he managed it without crashing them into anything.

  He passed a nurse with a first aid kit on his way to the infirmary but otherwise the grounds were deserted. Mitch was almost relieved; it would have been awkward if anyone else saw him, but getting through the infirmary doors without dropping her would be even more awkward. Fortunately, the doctor was waiting for him and held the various doors open until Mitch could deposit her on a bed.

  “What happened?” the doctor asked, bending over her. While Mitch explained, the doctor conducted a quick exam and pried the Archangel feather from her arm. It was still glowing and the white eye was almost incandescent. “You better take this,” the doctor said, holding it out to him.

  “But–”

  “It’s interfering with the wards,” the doctor said, “and I don’t like having unidentified magical objects in my facility.”

  “It’s an Archangel feather,” Mitch replied. It didn’t seem to be burning, the doctor probably wouldn’t be holding it so casually if it was, but he couldn’t take it. It belonged to Hayley.

  “I’m sure you can keep it safe and away from my wards until Miss Lake recovers,” the doctor insisted. “I’ll explain why you had to take it when she comes around.”

  Mitch sighed and took the feather, tucking it into his jacket’s inside pocket where it was less likely to fall out. It wasn’t warm at all and its light was slowly dimming.

  “You may as well go back to class Mr Mitchell, there’s nothing more you can do here.”

  RIDDLES WITH MONSTERS

  Even after two months Mitch thought that the new dormitory on the primary campus looked out of place. The builders had tried to mimic the structure and design of the original building and somehow the similarities just made the differences more obvious. No one would ever believe that this building had been standing for a century and with fresh paint on the walls and new carpet underfoot it was equally hard to believe that 250 children lived there.

  He started up the stairs to Cullum’s room, flattening himself against the wall as a gaggle of children came hurtling down. He thought one of them was Adam. For a second he thought one of them was Cullum before realising that the kid just had the same hoodie. He made it the rest of the way up the stairs without being bowled over. The entire building was eerily quiet, the primary students were carefully supervised even at the weekends, and only the oldest two years were allowed to play unsupervised. Since those same students had almost bowled him over he wasn’t sure that was such a good idea.

  As always the door to Cullum’s room was open. Mitch couldn’t help but wonder what he did when he showered, the showers were much smaller than their tiny rooms.

  “You really shouldn’t have the lights on in the middle of the day,” Mitch said. Winter was approaching but it was a nice enough day and there was no shortage of natural light flooding the room.

  “Don’t,” Cullum yelled when Mitch reached for the light switch.

  “Ok...” Mitch didn’t think it would actually make the room any darker but he lowered his hand. “Are you still seeing that counsellor?”

  “Yes Mitchell,” Cullum sighed, “and Miss Band brings me my pills every morning.”

  Well, his brother was inside and more or less calm so that was something. He even had the window closed, the sun was bright but it certainly wasn’t warm. Apparently frostbite beat claustrophobia, or perhaps they’d changed his meds again. Mitch had long since lost track but he’d have to work it out by the end of the year, he couldn’t see his parents doing it.

  “Do you want to go to the lake?” Mitch asked. Cullum couldn’t visit it on his own, it was on the far side of the secondary campus, but it would get them away from the children. Besides, Cullum wouldn’t be happy if they stayed inside. “We might get to see the Taniwha.” They’d actually had a lesson on it last term and Mitch had joined in the laughter when Bates learnt that the Taniwha and the Loch Ness Monster were real. Best of all, it would allow him to escape from the nagging primary teachers who insisted that he visit his brother more often as if he had nothing better to do. He had classes during the week and visiting his brother was no more acceptable than ‘the dog ate it’ when it came to not handing in his homework. Mitch thought that ‘time management’ were his teachers’ favourite words.

  “OK,” Cullum agreed. Mitch wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to see the Taniwha or just to go outside, but he’d take what he could get. Cullum grabbed a jacket and buttoned it up as they made their way outside.

  “Everything else in the wash?” Mitch asked. It wasn’t that cold outside and that jacket didn’t usually come out until there was snow on the ground. “Cullum?” Mitch said when his brother stared at his feet instead of answering. “You know it doesn’t matter if your clothes got damaged in class right?” The attrition rate for clothing at the Academy was horribly high, Mitch suspected that the frequent mishaps in their magic classes were the main reason why the Academy had decided against any kind of uniform. Cullum mumbled something in response.

  “What?” Mitch asked, reaching over the gate to fiddle with the latch on the other side. The fence between the two halves of the school had been rebuilt after the earthquake and Mitch noted with some amusement that it was higher now. He wouldn’t be able to jump over it next time. At least it kept the gremlins safely contained.

  “I gave my hoodies to Ben,” Cullum said.

  “Did you give him all of your t-shirts as well?” Mitch didn’t usually pay a lot of attention to what his brother was wearing but he didn’t think he’d seen his brother in a t-shirt all year. Mum would be thrilled, she always wanted them to dress smartly and it was hard to do casual in a button up shirt.

  “I don’t want them any more,” Cullum said, dragging his feet along the ground.

  “Whatever.” Buying Cullum some new clothes next time he was allowed off campus was probably easier than arguing about it. It would have to be next time, the desert road had a tendency to close erratically once it started snowing but it was unlikely to do so before the next long weekend. Cullum was probably growing out of his clothes anyway.

  “What do you want to do now?” Mitch asked, leaning back against the tree he’d almost crashed into last time he visited the lake. If Cullum said swimming he was going to throw him in and leave him. He was never entirely sure what to do with Cullum; his life had been a lot easier when Cullum was five and just wanted to scramble over the playground or play snakes and ladders. Maybe that was why their parents shipped them off to boarding school; it was easier than keeping them entertained every day and Mum probably didn’t want them messing up her apartment. That and concealing their divorce, it was much easier to pretend that you still lived together when your children never came home. He started skipping stones across the lake but Cullum made no move to join him.

  “Want to build a sandcastle?” he hazarded. Sandcastles were still fun weren’t they? At the very least they’d be able to jump on it once it was done.

  “Mitch,” Cullum said. He sounded curious rather than whiny which Mitch took as a good sign.

  “Yes.”

  “I think one of your pebbles is coming back.” He pointed at the lake, far further out than Mitch could skip a stone without magic, or with magic, he’d never got the hang of skipping stones. Even Mindy was better at it than he was.

  “Um...” Mitch said, staring at the ripples and the gradually growing shadow. They were both drawing closer. “I think you’re about to see that Taniwha I was telling you about.”

  “Cool.”

  Mitch rolled his eyes; of course his brother would think an overgrown lake lizard was cool. He hoped it was the Taniwha because it was definitely getting closer. He wished he’d paid attention in class when they told him what it ate. He was pretty sure someone would
have noticed if it ate people but nothing that big could live off fish could it? Maybe there was some other monster living in the lake as well.

  It appeared just as it had last time, spines first, followed by blue green scales and dark eyes under a heavy ridge. It swam up to the shore. Its body a dark, undulating shadow just below the surface. It came in a lot further than Mitch was expecting and he wondered what the correct procedure was when a Taniwha beached itself. Its flippers foundered and it stopped, Mitch hoped it hadn’t miscalculated but he thought that it could still turn around or reverse or whatever it was it did. Even resting on the lake bed its head was level with his knee. He preferred not to think about what the tips of its spines were level with.

  “Greetings Cursed One.” The Taniwha’s voice echoed in his skull and Mitch felt his jaw clenching in pain. He glanced at Cullum but his brother was still staring at it wide eyed. “He cannot hear me,” the Taniwha said. It didn’t really have a voice of its own, instead it used a conglomeration of every voice Mitch had ever heard, the volume alone almost enough to drive him to his knees. The part of him that insisted on trying to be rational wondered if the reason why no one had told him that Taniwha’s were telepathic was because they drove everyone they encountered insane.

  “What do you know about the curse?” Mitch demanded.

  The Taniwha laughed. Mitch cried out and fell to the ground in pain. Someone needed to explain what an inside voice was to this thing.

  “You bear the mark of the Twisted Curse for all to see,” the Taniwha said in its strange multi-faceted voice.

  “Twisted Curse?” He was vaguely aware of his brother shaking him and demanding to know who he was talking to but responding to him lay somewhere on the far side of impossible. The Taniwha demanded all of his attention. He forced himself to sit up. He still hadn’t learnt anything substantial about the family curse and he had no intention of giving up sex. He’d listen to whatever the Taniwha had to say about it even if it gave him a nose bleed. He wiped the blood away on the back of his hand and waited for an answer.