Instrument of Peace (Symphony of the Cursed Book 1)
Page 7
For a moment Mitch thought he was referring to the Taniwha but that was ridiculous, giant lake lizards did not talk, and then he remembered the woman who had been there when they arrived.
Angel Girl shook her head, “We were just finishing. I assume you are Mitchell senior?”
“Yes, it is a pleasure to meet you Miss Lake. I just wanted to thank you in person for saving my son’s life.
That’s not necessary. Mitch’s brain inserted the meaningless words into the conversation before realising that his ears hadn’t heard them.
“I know that it in no way repays you for the life of my son but we have set up a trust fund to cover your tuition here and at whatever university you choose to attend after graduation.”
“Thank you Mr Mitchell,” but you didn’t have to do that. Once again Mitch’s brain inserted the empty words that people were expected to say in a situation like this. Angel Girl didn’t say them; she really wasn’t big on small talk. Instead she just stood there dripping and Mitch stared at something in the middle distance.
“If there’s ever anything we can do for you...” Dad began, caught just as off guard by the absence of polite chatter as Mitch was. Angel Girl simply watched them with unnaturally pale blue eyes. Mitch wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled, that trust fund would set her up for life and she said nothing. What kind of orphan was she?
“Well, I’m sure you want to chan–”
Angel Girl flinched a second before Mount Ruapehu erupted and a thick plume of ash and smoke shot into the air.
“I wish they would stop doing that,” she said softly.
“You wish the volcanoes would stop erupting?” Mitch asked, finally managing to locate his tongue. Angel Girl laughed and turned away.
“Where did you say she was from?” Dad asked.
“Auckland Girls’ Grammar.” Mitch knew that it was one of the better schools but he doubted it would mean anything to Dad
“That’s not helpful, who are her parents?”
“No idea.” As far as he knew Angel Girl hadn’t managed to find anything other than the original newspaper articles on her abandonment and Dr Henly was uninterested in her adopted family. A second later the ash began to fall.
#
“I thought you might want these,” Gwen said, sitting down next to him and sliding over the books he had abandoned in Alchemy, complete with that day’s homework.
“Thanks,” Mitch said, shoving them into his bag before he could spill lunch all over them. “Why is everyone so quiet?” he’d expected at least a few jeers about his pointless mad dash through the corridors.
“Nikola collapsed.”
“What?” Mitch asked.
“When was this?” Richard said, taking his seat opposite them.
“Alchemy, about ten minutes after you left he got a nose bleed and...” she shrugged, “he was on his way to the bathroom but he didn’t even make it as far as the door. We almost didn’t notice Ruapehu erupting.”
“Any idea what’s wrong with him?” Mitch asked, between mouthfuls of quiche.
“I was hoping you could find out, you spend more time in the infirmary than we do. What was the big emergency anyway?”
“Dad wanted to thank Angel Girl,” Mitch said, impaling the next piece of quiche with more force than was strictly necessary.
“And you’re taking it out on the table because...?” Gwen asked. Mitch pretended not to hear Richard’s snigger and told them what had happened at the lake.
Gwen rolled her eyes when he was done, “You can be such a boy sometimes Mitch. You don’t get clothes like hers from K-mart or the local opshop. Honestly, she was going to a good school before she came here, whoever adopted her has plenty of money. She saw that trust fund for the empty gesture it was.” She shook her head, “as if any amount of money would have repaid her for the life of your brother.”
“You never would have tried that with me or Bates,” Richard said around a mouthful of quiche. Gwen glared at him and he swallowed before continuing. “You would have just thanked us and carried on with your life and eventually returned the favour. Face it, you got this one dead wrong.”
“Don’t tell me you’re on her side.”
“Nah, we’re on your side,” Richard said, “but we still think you’re a gullible idiot.”
“Gullib... Nessie, you knew that she was real didn’t you?”
Gwen laughed, “Of course I did.”
“But when I said that I saw her you told me that she wasn’t,” Mitch protested. Richard and Gwen had been teasing him about that for two years.
“Do you have any idea how much fun that was?” Gwen asked.
“Richard?”
Richard grinned at him.
“Bates?”
Gwen snorted, “Bates is just as gullible as you, they don’t live in Aussie anyway, too warm. I can’t believe we got away with it for so long, there’s an entire section in the library dedicated to them.”
Mitch concentrated on his plate, he’d never thought that the library would actually help his case here, it was full of books debunking myths and urban legends. Well, at least Bates hadn’t been in on it; even if he did spend most of his time with Mindy these days Bates was still his best friend.
#
Mitch checked his watch and started putting his books away. That Alchemy homework would just have to wait, he was supposed to meet Dad in five minutes at the infirmary so they could discuss Cullum’s treatment. Mitch expected it to be mind-numbingly boring but the doctor would probably be more forthcoming with Dad; he was Cullum’s legal guardian. Mitch was just the one who had to put up with him all year.
“Going to the infirmary Mr Mitchell?” asked the librarian, Mr Greeves, as Mitch passed his desk.
“Yeah,” Mitch replied. The only thing that was more efficient than the student gossip network was the staff gossip network.
“Could you take these with you?” he patted a stack of books.
“Yeah? Sure,” Mitch replied.
“They’re for Nikola, I expect he’ll enjoy them if he’s feeling up to it.”
Mitch shrugged and took the books. Mr Greeves had used Nikola’s first name he noted, but then Nikola did spend a lot of time in the library. There was no reason why he shouldn’t be friendly with the librarian.
He met Dad outside the infirmary and they went in together. The Doctor raised an eyebrow when he saw the books in Mitch’s arms.
“Mr Greeves thought Nikola might like them,” Mitch explained.
“Well he’s awake now, room two,” he gestured to the corridor to the private rooms. “This way Mr Mitchell.”
Mitch glared at their backs, he could take a hint, whatever the doctor had to say Mitch wasn’t going to hear and Dad would just laugh it off if he asked. The door closed behind them and Mitch stomped towards the room the Doctor had indicated.
The private rooms were bigger than their dormitories, which wasn’t really that hard, but it was still surprising.
“This is rather unexpected,” Nikola said as Mitch crept into the room. He’d been hoping the doctor was mistaken but Nikola was wide awake, his eyes feverishly bright.
“You look like Hell,” Mitch replied wondering how he hadn’t spotted it sooner. Nikola had always been thin but Mitch had never thought it might be possible to count his ribs before.
“Thanks.”
“Greeves thought you might like these,” Mitch said, dropping the books on the silly rolling table thing that all hospital beds seemed to come with and almost knocking over the empty jug. Nikola scanned the titles and smiled as he pulled out a book written in Norse.
“Mythology?” Mitch asked struggling to read the title upside down. They had studied Norse last year and Mitch was now functionally illiterate in it.
“I like it,” Nikola said running a trembling hand over the cover.
“Yes but Norse? There are plenty of English or German translations out there.” He thought Nikola was German, he had come from the Mu
nich Academy after all. One of the books had a German title, he looked closer, Grimm’s Other Fairy-tales. Mitch smiled, he hadn’t read those in years and certainly not in German.
“Heathen,” Nikola replied, “I grew up with the originals, I’m not going to ruin them now.”
“If you’re so good at Norse why weren’t you at the top of the class last year?” Mitch asked, leaning on the edge of the bed.
“Same reason I wasn’t at the top of the class in year nine and I’m not now, I passed out at the start of the year. Latin is boring anyway.”
Oh, Mitch hadn’t realised that Nikola wasn’t in any of the language classes, he’d always assumed that he was just in another stream. Nikola coughed weakly and reached for a glass of water. It had a straw in it; the only time Mitch got a straw was when he went to McDonalds. Mitch flinched and Nikola rolled his eyes.
“Relax, I’m not contagious, I’m not even sick,” he said, setting his glass down.
“You collapsed and now you’re in a private room,” Mitch pointed out.
“The private rooms are better insulated against magic than the wards,” Nikola said as if it was some sort of explanation. It earned the blank look it deserved. “I’m hyper-sensitive to magic,” Nikola explained, “and all of these earthquakes and volcanoes discharge a lot of it. Some people get a headache and take a couple of Panadol, I throw up and have a migraine for the rest of the day.”
“You collapsed.”
“Of course I collapsed, I haven’t eaten properly all term. Do you have any idea how many earthquakes we have each day?”
Mitch had heard that it was in the hundreds, most of them imperceptible to humans, and that was before the big quake three weeks ago. “What was your family thinking sending you to school in the Shaky Isles?”
“That I’d get a good education,” Nikola replied and coughed again, his entire body shaking. Mitch wasn’t sure a good education was worth it.
“You’re a lot more talkative when you’re sick,” Mitch said as Nikola drained his glass though the straw and lay back panting.
“I know, dreadful isn’t it? At least I can console myself with the knowledge that you might be a hallucination.”
“Do you always talk to your hallucinations?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because they’re hallucinations.”
“Don’t be boring.”
“I think I liked it better when you didn’t talk.”
“Well I liked it better when you were a hallucination, they’re much more fun.”
“I should let you rest,” Mitch said, rising to his feet. That fever was clearly melting Nikola’s brain.
“Can you get me more water first? The doctor has been threatening me with restraints again.” Mitch laughed and grabbed the empty jug.
FAMILY
Mitch couldn’t help feeling the tiniest bit ridiculous. Here he was with his brother and father trying to pretend like they were a normal family and this was just a normal day. None of it was normal.
Ruapehu continued to fill the air with irregular gouts of ash and the formerly yellowing Academy fields were now dead and grey. He wondered if the ash was the last straw for the grass. It probably wasn’t, no doubt there was someone around who was really good at grass magic. The red and white checked blanket looked decidedly out of place, as did the picnic basket on top of it. But who didn’t want to have a picnic on school grounds that were doing their best to impersonate a volcanic wasteland? Well Mitch for one, he was going to have to leave early and change before sixth period.
If anything the fact that they were having a picnic was more ridiculous than the setting. Mitch couldn’t remember the last time they had a family picnic. He wasn’t even sure there was a last time and he had certainly never expected the first time to be at the Academy. Maybe it didn’t count without Mum? In that case it would never count so he decided that it did. He couldn’t even be happy about the fact that it was getting him out of class since the class it was getting out of was maths.
“Can’t you stay a little longer?” Cullum whined as they attempted to make themselves comfortable on the blanket without smearing ash everywhere. It would have been easier to use one of the picnic tables but the primary kids were having lunch now.
“No,” Dad replied, “I was lucky to get away at all, I have to leave today.”
Mitch wasn’t even sure why he had bothered, he’d only spent two days at the Academy and that wasn’t even long enough to get over the jet-lag. As far as Mitch could tell it hadn’t been to spend time with his children either since this was only the second time he had seen him since the infirmary visit, maybe he was spending all of his time with Cullum.
“But...”
“Drop it Cully,” Mitch said, opening up the picnic basket and peering inside. The smell of roast lamb wafted out to greet him, reminding him of the other reason why a family picnic would never happen; neither of his parents could cook. No family picnic they were in charge of would ever feature rolls filled with hot roast lamb and gravy though he supposed they might be able to manage the magic on the picnic basket.
“Can I go back to New York with you then?” Cullum asked. Mitch ignored him and focused on eating. Cullum could be Dad’s problem for another hour, after that he would have to start looking for a gag.
“You need to stay here Cullum.”
“But I don’t like it here. The ground shakes all the time and there’s ash everywhere and everything is grey.”
As far as Mitch could recall New York had been grey as well but his mouth was too full of lamb to say anything.
“Your education is important Cullum.”
“I could go to school in New York,” Cullum said, crossing his arms and pouting.
“You could go to a normal school in New York,” Mitch said between mouthfuls, “no magic school there.”
“I don’t care! I want to go home.”
Mitch smirked, he couldn’t imagine going home. He wondered if Cullum’s room still had Arthurian knights painted on the walls or if his still had the blue pinstriped wallpaper. He couldn’t decide what would be worse, if Mum had redecorated them a dozen times since he was last home of if she hadn’t. Since he was never likely to find out it probably didn’t matter.
“The decision has been made Cullum. Now behave yourself and we can have a nice lunch before I leave.” Dad reached into the picnic basket and pulled out his own roll. Cullum looked as if he was going to sulk a bit longer but the smell of roast lamb defeated him and he seized the remaining roll before Mitch could swipe it. He was forced to settle for handing out napkins and investigating the other half of the basket.
Dad raised an eyebrow as Mitch pulled out cans of Lemon and Paeroa and a tub of hokey pokey ice-cream. Mitch might have grown up on the stuff, well the ice-cream at any rate, the Academy never served fizzy drinks, but he wasn’t sure Dad had ever heard of them.
“In my day they served proper English food,” Dad said, eyeing the brown and yellow can of L&P in his hand.
“So spit roasted dinosaur?” Mitch asked, he got L&P whenever he was allowed off campus.
“I’m not that old Mitchell, it was woolly mammoth,” Dad said, finally condescending to crack the can open. Mitch found some spoons and bowls hidden in the basket and began serving out the ice-cream, subtly adding a little extra to his bowl only to have it ruined when Dad took it.
“There’s no roast Kiwi hidden in there is there?” Dad asked.
“I think you’re confusing us with Australians dad,” Mitch sighed, “we don’t eat the national icon here, it’s endangered.”
“Us?” Dad asked.
“I have the passport and paperwork,” Mitch snapped. The Academy got most of its students citizenship when they enrolled. All of the red tape involved must be nightmarish but it did cut down on other problems and it saved Mitch from answering a million questions on a country he hadn’t seen since he was eight and hadn’t lived in since he was five.
“Looks like
they forgot the chocolate fish and Pavlova as well,” Mitch said in the world’s most transparent attempt to change the subject. The bell rang and Mitch resigned himself to looking like a b grade movie survivor in his next class. At least he’d have time to change before magical theory.
“Say hi to Mum for me,” Mitch said as he rose to his feet and chucked the empty bowl into the basket. He strode towards the classrooms, kicking up puffs of ash with every step.
He thought he was the last person to arrive in Alchemy, the class looked full and he earned a disapproving glare from Miss Sindri, until Nikola walked in doing his best impersonation of an underfed skeleton. He didn’t get any disapproving looks; maybe Mitch’s had been because he was getting volcanic ash on the otherwise spotless floor.
“Excellent, now that everyone is here we will begin on the properties of calcite,” Miss Sindri said writing something on the board. As soon as her back was turned Mitch groaned and slumped over the table. He had thought chemical properties were bad but Alchemical properties were a thousand times worse. Gwen prodded him with a pencil, his arm was over her book. He sighed and reached for his bag, at least he wouldn’t have to have any more meals with Dad until the end of the year.
#
Mitch shoved open the library door. That proved to be a mistake. Most of the class was just arriving from their previous lesson and Mitch somehow got stuck holding the bloody thing. He was tempted to let it slam in the next person’s face but he was reasonably sure it would have flattened Nikola. Angel Girl came in after him and she made a very tempting target.
“Found out anything about your parents yet?” he asked as she brushed by him. Thankfully she was the last one and he was able to let the door slam shut. The rest of the class heard him and found some pretence to slow their steps and listen in.
“No,” the word was casual, almost off handed.
“You do realise that you’ll fail if you keep this up, right?”
“Yes.”
Mitch ground his teeth together. “It wouldn’t hurt you to show a little human emotion you know.”