Instrument of Peace (Symphony of the Cursed Book 1)

by Rebecca Hall

  One by one the hourglasses started to spin. In a way watching them was worse. They shouldn’t have been able to spin without crashing into one another and scattering their contents to the wind but spin they did. Round and round, the minerals shifting from bulb to bulb with no regard for the laws of physics. It was like some complex piece of clockwork but no clockwork was ever that silent. Perhaps sound would contaminate the test results as well.

  The hourglasses stopped all at once, disregarding more of the laws of physics. Most of the sand was still in the top bulb where it had started but a few held sand in the bottom bulb. Maybe Gwen had memorised the layout of the hourglasses but Mitch could only guess what each of them were. Directly opposite Belle a tiny hourglass was glowing brightly, leaving burning afterimages in his eyes. There was barely any sand in the bottom bulb but everyone was staring at it and the wind carried whispered snatches of excited conversation to his ears. The silver light began to fade as the last of Belle’s blood was consumed by the magic. For a second Belle stood in the middle of a pillar of silver light and then the light winked out.

  The hourglasses reset themselves, the sand moving from the bottom bulb to the top without covering the intervening space. That part had always puzzled Mitch; magic could play merry Hell with the laws of physics when it wanted to but it usually had to obey them. Of course, Nikola’s magic appeared to do the exact same thing.

  Belle looked up at them once more but no one was looking at her. Mindy was deep in conversation with Dr Dalman and everyone else was staring at the tiny hourglass. Mitch didn’t see what the big deal was. Hayley raised a hand and waved and Belle waved back before turning to leave the mirror. A minute later she joined them, wrapped in a thick blanket that threatened to trip her every other step.

  She went straight to Hayley and hugged her. Mitch pretended not to see the combination of hurt and anger that flashed across Mindy’s face. If she wanted a hug then she should have been the one to greet her sister instead of conversing with Dr. Dalman. Even now she didn’t move towards her sister. Mitch moved close enough to overhear what was being said and kept his mouth firmly shut. He didn’t want to land himself in the middle of whatever was going on here.

  “What’s wrong?” Belle asked, taking in the expressions of the teachers who had followed her up the stairs and the tense atmosphere.

  “Your test scores,” Mr McCalis said, handing her a piece of paper and passing another copy to Dr Dalman. Dr Dalman gasped, one hand rising to her mouth.

  “Oh my,” she said faintly, “are you certain?”

  Mitch blinked, Mr McCalis would never make a mistake on something like this.

  “Yes ma’am,” Mr McCalis said, seemingly unconcerned by the question and its implications. Mindy snatched the piece of paper from Belle’s hand and read it quickly before giving Dr Dalman a blank stare. Mitch risked shuffling over, dragging Gwen with him for protection, so that he could read over Mindy’s shoulder.

  Celestial magic: 12.7 percent

  “But you told us that no one ever scored higher than ten percent,” Mitch said staring at their teachers. It had been hedged around with all sorts of weasel words, the mirror had only been made 300 years ago and none of the other methods of testing were as precise, but they’d been pretty clear on that.

  “It has happened once before,” Mr McCalis said. He shook his head, “it’s exceedingly rare for someone to exceed seven percent. This is unprecedented.”

  He looked at Belle. She was clinging to Hayley, her green eyes wide in a bloodless face. Mindy was glaring at them but she didn’t seem inclined to leave the shelter of Bates’ arm to actually comfort her sister.

  “What does this mean for her?” Mitch asked. A succession of shrugs was his only answer.

  “We continue her education as normal,” Dr Dalman announced. Mitch wasn’t sure he believed that but he hoped that Belle did. He tried to recall what they’d been taught about Clairvoyance.

  “What about the things she sees but can’t change?” he asked. Hayley glared at him, her arms tightening around Belle’s shoulders.

  “They happen, no matter how good, no matter how terrible, the things that a Clairvoyant sees but can’t change always happen.” The silence that followed was broken only by the sound of Belle crying.

  #

  Mitch rubbed his eyes and peered at the tiny text once more. The Fall of the Angels had finally been returned to the library and he had spent the last couple of days combing through it; he wasn’t required to watch everyone’s testing after all. The text was small, dense and written in cursive. It was almost as if the author didn’t want the book to be read, though it did beg the question of why had they written it in the first place.

  The unknown author had clearly never heard of white space and they seemed to regard plain English as a foreign concept. The Fall of the Angels was a masterpiece of weasel words and hedging. He had yet to find a single fact, everything was a summation or thought or theory.

  It was also the most promising lead he had. Within its pages he had found references to an eons old conflict unoriginally known as the Eternity War. The author believed it to be responsible for everything from the black hole at the centre of the galaxy to the extinction of the dinosaurs. Mitch believed that the author had been high as a kite when they wrote it, but it did explain why the Taniwha wanted him to tell them to stop.

  He still wasn’t sure who ‘they’ were or why they would listen to him. Beings who had watched the birth of stars and had the power to level continents seemed unlikely to listen to a student magician. He sighed; the book had, maybe, answered one question but it had left him with a dozen more.

  “Why me?” he asked his empty room. There had to be better people to deliver messages to a group of angels. Angels. That had been another point of contention for the anonymous author, whether or not angel was the correct term for beings of possibly limitless power. After five pages of rambling on the subject the answer had been inconclusive. Mitch had already decided that he’d return the book if it started debating the existence of god. He slammed it shut, unable to stand another imprecise sentence. Even studying Alchemy was better and it seemed to violate every rule of physics and magic he had ever been taught. He knew that you were supposed to know the rules before you broke them but this was ridiculous.

  “That’s the second time this week you’ve stood me up,” Gwen said, behind him. Mitch jumped and glanced at his alarm clock, he was supposed to have met her an hour ago. Maybe he should have set an alarm instead of using it as a paperweight.

  “Well? What do you have to say for yourself? Have I suddenly grown three heads? Or are you too busy mooning over Angel Girl to notice?”

  “I was... I do not moon over Angel Girl,” he said, jumping to his feet and almost falling when his legs tangled in the chair. He managed to keep himself upright, barely, the chair wasn’t so lucky.

  “Oh? Then why did you rush to her defence in Rotorua?”

  “Rush to her... they cornered us!” Mitch spluttered. “You were there.” He disentangled himself from his chair and flipped it upright, desperately trying to regain an even footing.

  “I was hardly about to leave you alone with her was I?”

  Mitch gaped at her, trying to find the words that would fix this. He wasn’t sure they existed. Gwen slapped him.

  “I don’t even like her,” Mitch protested, rubbing his jaw.

  “You could have fooled me. You couldn’t keep your eyes off her at Belle’s testing and you can’t keep them on me now.”

  Mitch was keeping his eyes on her hands, she’d effectively cornered him and he wanted to be able to duck if she tried to slap him again.

  “Yeah well, well...” a witty comeback completely failed to come to his aid. He searched his mind, even a moronic comeback would be better than gaping like a fish. Gwen glared at him and he found himself wishing that she would slap him again, he knew how to defend himself against that. She used magic instead, an almost blindingly bright light co
alescing in front of her. Mitch gulped, there was one thing that illusionists were horrifyingly good at making real, lasers.

  “What the Hell Gwen, are you trying to get yourself suspended?” he yelled, backing into his desk. The Academy might turn a blind eye to the occasional scuffle or extra-curricular magic use but they did not approve of students using magic on one another. Even relatively harmless tricks could land them in hot water, shooting him with a laser might be enough to get Gwen expelled. Knowing that it was an illusion didn’t help in the slightest. Gwen made her illusions by bending light; the laser would be completely real.

  He started inching sideways, his room was on the third floor, he could jump out of the window if he really had to, but there was no way Gwen would actually follow through on her threat. He considered shoving his chair at her, or throwing the alarm clock, but if they didn’t break her concentration they’d just piss her off even more.

  “Stop it Gwen.” Words hadn’t done much so far but they were all he had, he wasn’t sure he could make himself laser-proof. “Please,” he added, “I swear I’m not interested in Hayley.” Her face darkened. He probably shouldn’t have used her name. Maybe words weren’t such a good idea. “I’ll never talk to her again, I promise. I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to you.” He wasn’t even sure what he was making up for but he’d say anything if it meant not getting zapped by a laser. “We’ll be on holiday soon, we can go wherever you want. We can go skiing and make snow... men,” he almost said angels, “you can even find me another cliff to jump off.” He reached behind himself and started fiddling with the window catch, he didn’t think the window opened far enough for him to actually jump out of it but he could always break it.

  “Do you mean it?” Gwen asked, “Are you really not interested in her?”

  “Really Gwen, I promise,” he thought the laser dimmed slightly, its light flickering. “I’m not interested in her,” Mitch said firmly. The laser vanished and his heart slowed from a whine to a purr.

  “I haven’t forgiven you.”

  “Fine,” Mitch snapped, biting back an angry reply.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Gwen slammed the door behind her. Mitch winced, he wasn’t sure he wanted to see her tomorrow but God only knew what would happen if he stood her up a third time. He hoped that they’d be able to fix everything over the holidays but he’d be a lot more confident if he knew what he’d done wrong.

  #

  Mitch pushed his way across the crowded platform, slipping through gaps in the press and occasionally employing an elbow until he made it to the front and had a good view of the Obsidian Mirror below. Maybe he should have braved the freezing cold earlier but he’d been too busy dithering over whether or not to come and he hadn’t expected so many other people to make the same decision as him. Everyone was welcome to attend the testing but it was only compulsory for them to sit and watch their classmates the first time. Most of the time the only witnesses were friends and family. Assuming their family could be bothered making the trip of course. Most of the Academy’s students weren’t actually from New Zealand, though, like Mitch, they had a tendency to forget that. Dad had come to his first testing but Mum had never come at all; maybe she would come for Cullum’s at the end of the year.

  Angel Girl didn’t have any family, at least not of the kind that would be welcome here, she had something better; the results of Bates’ pool. Half the school was crammed onto the platform and the other half was gathered around down below. Mitch wasn’t sure how much money was riding on this and in truth he didn’t care. Angel Girl’s speciality had been a topic of debate for months and they were finally going to get an answer.

  He craned his head, scanning the crowd for his friends. Gwen, Bates and Richard had all been tested already and he knew Bates would be here somewhere. Richard probably was as well but he doubted Gwen would be after the other day. Mindy would be down below, getting ready for her turn. Mitch should really be down there too, he was after Mindy and Nikola, but he wanted to see this. It would be worth the scolding he’d get for being a couple of minutes late. He doubted he’d be put in detention for it, not when the teachers appeared just as eager to know as he was.

  Silence fell. Angel Girl stood at the mirror’s edge, framed by the hourglasses. She didn’t look up at them, seeking out encouraging faces, or back at the teachers who usually had to urge first timers forward. She wasn’t hugging herself and shivering despite the piercing wind that blew through her thin robe and ruffled her wet hair. Mitch swallowed; the robe was transparent where her hair had soaked through it. She didn’t seem to notice that either. Her eyes traced the sigils inscribed upon the obsidian floor and danced across the hourglasses.

  She stepped forward, her bare feet flashing under the hem of the robe. Mitch shivered, that would be him soon and the mirror was cold. The watching students gasped, Mitch could hear some swearing and he saw one of the teachers begin pushing her way through the crowd to the stairs. All around a babble of voices rose as those who couldn’t see asked what was happening. He kept his eyes fixed on Angel Girl where she stood just inside the faintly glowing heptagram. That wasn’t supposed to have happened yet, the mirror’s magic was supposed to lie dormant until it was released by a drop of blood.

  Angel Girl didn’t look up at the shocked faces surrounding her or back to see what she should do now that everything had gone awry. She took another step forward, completely unperturbed by the silver light that was bathing her. The silver light Mitch was reasonably sure was impossible. He’d done his homework; the sigils inscribed upon the mirror should have kept it dormant.

  With every step the light grew brighter and twisting of the sigils grew worse. It was almost as if they were alive and trying to escape, or perhaps ensnare her. Mitch couldn’t stand watching them long enough to be sure. Knowing that they were firmly fixed in place only made the sensation even more jarring. He pushed his growing nausea aside and kept his gaze fixed on Angel Girl. The light burnt his eyes but he couldn’t look away and it was better than staring at the sigils.

  Angel Girl reached Rhadhassa. Rhadhassa didn’t glow, it blazed and more than one person cried out in pain as they were pierced by its light. He squeezed his eyes shut and felt its light searing into his brain. He willed his eyes to adjust, to see through the light and screw the rules about not using magic near the mirror. The whole thing had already gone wrong, he doubted he could upset it any more.

  He opened his eyes in time to see Hayley smile, perfectly at home within the silver radiance. It wasn’t pure silver any more, the light around her was slowly suffusing with gold. He looked at her eyes and saw that the blue had completely vanished, subsumed by blazing white and burnished gold. Even the pupil was gone. The breeze had died but her robe still fluttered in the currents of magic and her now dry hair whipped this way and that.

  He hadn’t noticed the heat at first and now he wondered how he’d missed it. He could feel the sweat beading on his forehead and trickling down his back. He could feel the skin on his hands and face drying. He fumbled with the buttons on his jacket, trying to undo them without taking his eyes off the spectacle below.

  The people remaining on the platform were all doing the same but the majority had fled to whatever they deemed to be a safe distance. Mitch was tempted to leave as well, it was probably the sensible option, but he wanted to see the end of the show even more and his feet were rooted to the spot.

  One of the teachers stepped up to the edge of the heptagram, yelling at Angel Girl and gesturing wildly though their hands never pierced the light. All of the sigils glowed with the same burnished gold that filled her eyes and the light was gradually bleeding into the hourglasses. Angel Girl raised a pin, the light reflecting off it, and pricked her thumb. Gracefully she knelt over the centre of the sigil.

  This is going to be... Mitch had time to think before golden flames burst from Rhadhassa. They danced up Angel Girl’s arm and span around her body, climbing with her as she rose to her feet and rapidly s
preading to engulf the entire mirror. The golden flames stretched towards the sky and Mitch was forced to back away, his magic unable to protect him from the intense heat.

  The flames wreathed the hourglasses as they span wildly in every direction, occasionally passing through one another in their mad dance. There was no sense of precision, none of the fine control that Mitch was accustomed to. They should have crashed and shattered, glass and fine sands should have been flying everywhere in molten droplets. They kept spinning instead, faster and faster as the flames rose.

  Mitch wondered if they would engulf the platform as well. Most of the remaining observers had decided to find out from somewhere else and were clustered around the stairs, a few were simply jumping to the ground in panic. Mitch stayed where he was as his clothes were soaked through with sweat and then dried again by the searing heat. He was beginning to look forward to the icy shower he would have to take before his testing.

  His eyes were beginning to burn despite his magic and his every breath was agonising. The air was dry and hot and it seared his lips and scalded his tongue. When this was over he was going to find a snowdrift and bury himself in it, assuming any survived of course. He might have to revise his decision about never setting foot in the lake again, if they didn’t.

  The hourglasses stopped spinning. They didn’t slow down, they didn’t spin themselves back upright from a thousand different angles, they simply stopped. The flames wreathing them shrank back and faded away, sinking into the obsidian mirror and slowly reverting back to the familiar silver.

  Mitch blinked and rubbed his eyes. The hourglasses stood upright without a single scratch or stress mark to show for their impossible ordeal. There was no steam or smoke, nothing to indicate that anything unusual had just happened apart from the fact that the bottom bulb of every hourglass was full and glowing brightly. The obsidian mirror should have been bathed in every colour of the rainbow, and a few from outside the visible spectrum, but the silver light remained, strong and unwavering.