Instrument of Peace (Symphony of the Cursed Book 1)

by Rebecca Hall

  “Yeah.” Mitch left Nikola sipping from his bottle and grabbed their bags, resolving to open his coke once he’d reclaimed his spot on the bench.

  “Thank you,” Nikola said, looking faintly puzzled. He’d managed to catch his breath and stop coughing but his cheeks were still flushed and he was shivering despite his thick clothes.

  “You’re welcome,” Mitch said uncertainly. Bates and Gwen had never thanked him for getting their bags and he’d never said anything when they returned the favour. He called a taxi and finally got to drink his coke while they waited for it to arrive. He wondered absently where Bates had disappeared off to before deciding that it didn’t matter.

  The house that the taxi deposited them before was far enough away to justify the taxi. Mitch suspected that the only thing that could have convinced Nikola to board another bus, if only for ten minutes, was a blow to the head. He took the keys when they slipped from Nikola’s hand and let them in, awkwardly manoeuvring through the door with both of their bags.

  Nikola studied him with the same faintly puzzled expression he’d worn at the bus station.

  “Do you have a heater or fire or something?” Mitch asked, setting the bags down out of the way. Nikola was still shivering.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “What?”

  “You’re here, with me,” Nikola gestured, “you’re supposed to be with your friend aren’t you?”

  “I said that I wanted to be friends,” Mitch reminded him.

  Nikola blinked. “But the curse is broken now, you have your friends back.”

  Yeah, right. Maybe the curse was broken but it was still poisoning Bates’ mind. Either that or his best friend was a bigger dick than he’d ever realised.

  “I wanted to be friends because of you not because of them or the curse,” Mitch said.

  “Oh.” Nikola leaned against the wall looking more confused than ever.

  “Friends?” Mitch asked, offering a hand.

  “Do you really...?” Nikola asked, staring at his hand blankly.

  “Yes.” Nikola finally shook his hand and Mitch swore silently when he realised that Nikola was feverish. “Which room is yours?” he asked, picking up Nikola’s bag again.

  “This one,” Nikola said, leading the way into what had to be the master suite. Mitch left him to sleep and eventually tracked down the heating controls in the lounge. A card on the kitchen bench caught his eye and he read it guiltily.

  Sorry I couldn’t be here, I made sure the kitchen was stocked with all of your favourites.

  Tal.

  Mitch put the card down and explored the kitchen further. Nikola’s favourites appeared to be remarkably healthy and non-canned but he did manage to put together a sandwich for himself and make a little dry toast for Nikola, uncertain if he would want to eat or not. He took the toast and warm water to Nikola and found him curled up on the king-sized bed, his face still flushed with fever.

  Mitch debated with himself over what to do next, Nikola hadn’t exactly invited him but he didn’t want to leave Nikola alone when he was so clearly sick. Finally he decided to stay and make as little mess as possible, he’d even repay Nikola for the food when he recovered.

  Nikola slept through much of the weekend but when Mitch checked on him he found the toast nibbled and the glass empty.

  #

  “How are you feeling?” Mitch asked when Nikola finally dragged himself out of bed.

  “Slightly less disgusting,” Nikola replied, shoving his sheets into the washing machine and turning it on. “I can’t believe I slept in my clothes for two days.”

  “You were sick,” Mitch pointed out, lowering his voice when Nikola closed the laundry door. He looked better now though he was still dressed a little too warmly with the heating on.

  “I had a bad cold, I wasn’t dying,” Nikola replied, scanning the fridge quickly before turning his attention to the pantry. Mitch thought guiltily of all the food he’d eaten over the last few days. “How about I make us some proper food?” Nikola asked, reading the card and slipping it into a pocket.

  “Something simple,” Mitch said. He had no idea what Nikola’s cooking skills were like but he still sounded croaky and congested. “I... er... I can pay you back for the food and stuff.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Nikola said, pulling out far too many ingredients for anything that could possibly be simple.

  “But I just invited myself into your home and started using everything,” Mitch protested. He’d taken the smallest bedroom for himself and he’d made sure to keep the bathroom orderly but it was hard to feel as if he wasn’t taking advantage of Nikola and his poor health.

  “You looked after me. Last time I checked there was no such thing as a toast fairy.”

  “You barely touched it.” Mitch flushed, he was not a fairy.

  “There aren’t any water fairies either.”

  “Yeah but...” he’d spent two days in a nice house with a queen-sized bed and almost exclusive use of a luxurious bathroom and a fully stocked kitchen that he didn’t know how to use, in exchange for a couple of uneaten pieces of toast three times a day.

  “I probably would have broken the lock without you,” Nikola said, “magic’s a lot easier than keys. And then I would have had to call a locksmith so I figure we’re about even.”

  “Fine,” Mitch grumbled, making a mental note to see how much locksmiths cost.

  TERM FOUR

  WARDS

  The bell rang to summon them to an assembly and Mitch shuffled towards the door as slowly as he reasonably could, wishing that they could start the term with something, anything, other than an assembly in the room where Dr Dalman had died and Miss Band had hanged herself. He wished that they could do this in the dining room, it seemed unlikely that there’d be another riot and he still had nightmares about the snap as Miss Band fell. He hadn’t been into the auditorium since her suicide and Dr Dalman’s death. Mitch wasn’t sure what that had been classed as; people didn’t just turn into piles of goo.

  He reached the auditorium and for a second he saw Miss Band again, her body jerking as she slowly suffocated, swinging like an obscene pendulum over the gloop that had been Dr Dalman. One of the few rumours that had gained any real traction in the days following her death was that they’d had to clean her up with a mop. Mitch swallowed and allowed the crowd to push him away from Bates and Mindy. He’d done his best to avoid them since coming back with Nikola, and Nikola himself was nowhere to be seen. He ended up next to Sam instead and she gave him a shaky smile.

  “Hey.”

  “Hi.”

  “Have you heard from Sven?” Mitch asked. One of these days he was going to have to find a way of making his mouth check with his brain before opening.

  Sam nodded, “He seems to be doing better now. They think he might be able to come back next year.”

  “That’s good I guess,” Mitch said. Maybe Sven could learn to live with what he’d done but he didn’t think his classmates would ever forget it. He might even be better off at the South African school or Munich. The schools in the northern hemisphere started in midyear, Sven would be able to pick up more or less where he left off and he’d be closer to his family.

  They weren’t the only ones having whispered conversations. No one was quite as loud as they had been at the start of the year, but there was no indication of an impending riot either. Mr McCalis took the stage and managed to get everyone’s attention without sending feedback through the sound system. He had a stronger presence than Dr Dalman but he wasn’t as experienced. Mitch’s parents had complained that he was only thirty when he’d been appointed vice principal a few years ago.

  He was standing slightly to the side of centre stage and Mitch wondered if there was a stain where Dr Dalman had died or if he was simply avoiding the spot.

  “Thank you for your prompt arrival,” Mr McCalis began. “Following the events of last term we have conducted a thorough investigation and taken precautions
to ensure that there is no repeat of the incident. As the matter has been resolved it is our hope that we may move forward. As such everyone is being given a blank slate. The incidents that occurred last term will not be recorded, however, we will still be requiring a number of you to see a counsellor and additional counselling staff have been hired should any of you feel the need to talk with someone impartial. I would like you all to join me in a moment of silence.”

  Mitch surreptitiously looked around, a number of people looked bored and a few were fidgeting impatiently. Mitch shared in their impatience but not their boredom. He didn’t think he’d ever be bored in here again, not with the deaths of Miss Band and Dr Dalman playing on a continuous loop in his head. In the silence he could have sworn that he heard the snap of the rope echoing around the room over and over. He shivered and rubbed his arms. That sound was going to drive him crazy.

  “Thank you,” Mr McCalis said. Mitch sighed in relief and focused on his teacher’s voice; it would be a long time before he was comfortable with silence again, maybe he’d be able to find himself an extra loud watch or something. If his brother could be afraid of the dark then he could be afraid of silence. It probably had a fancy name and everything. He’d have to look it up later, for now he let the familiar routine of a school assembly distract him.

  “Due to the somewhat sudden nature of the loss of three of our number I will be serving as acting principal for the duration of the year and Mr Greeves will be taking Teratology. We have also modified your curriculum to enable you to catch up in time for the end of year exams.”

  Modify the curriculum; Mitch was pretty sure that he recognised teacher code for give excessive amounts of homework when he heard it. Their teachers would never modify their exams because of a little thing like the entire Academy falling under the influence of the Twisted Curse.

  “You’re dismissed.”

  Mitch was feeling distinctly underwhelmed as they filed out, Mitch relying on the crowd to keep him from Bates and Mindy or Gwen and Richard. Two teachers and the principal were dead, Dr Henly’s funeral had exploded and two members of staff had had their souls devoured by a fallen angel. And there was no forgetting his brother’s attempted vandalism, the zombie horse or a dozen other incidents. A hand closed over his shoulder and he jumped.

  “Calm down mate,” Bates said, letting him go, “didn’t you hear me calling you?”

  “No,” Mitch lied.

  “You were miles away,” Mindy said. Mitch scowled, clearly miles away wasn’t going to cut it if he wanted to avoid Mindy and Bates.

  “I can’t believe they’re letting everyone off so easily,” Mitch said. He picked up his pace, hoping that they’d fall behind.

  “Why not?” Mindy asked, “it’s not as if it was our fault that stupid bitch made a deal with a fallen angel.”

  Maybe not, but everything else was.

  “Come on Mitch,” Bates said, “it’s just like that time we got drunk and thought it would be a good idea to do karaoke.” Mitch winced; that had not been a good idea. He could carry a tune but Bates couldn’t and he’d effectively ensured that Mitch never wanted to hear another Taylor Swift song.

  “So you’re saying you thought it was a good idea not to tell me that Gwen was fucking Richard or for Mindy to attack Belle with a zombie horse?”

  “Well yeah, you thought it was a good idea to start hanging out with Nikola didn’t you?”

  “Just leave us alone,” Mitch sighed. He’d wondered what Bates would have to say about being ditched in Rotorua. Apparently he’d thought the same thing as Nikola, that it was because of the curse.

  “Worried about your new bff?” Bates asked.

  “What?” Mitch asked, wrenching the door to the dormitories open with slightly more force than was strictly necessary.

  “Nikola,” Bates said, “honestly Mitch, you’re not under the influence of the Twisted Curse any more, you don’t have to keep pretending.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with him,” Mitch said, seriously considering slamming the door in Bates’ face. At least Mindy was keeping her mouth shut. He didn’t think he could have a rational conversation with her after the zombie horse.

  “We both know that’s the curse talking,” Bates said, holding up his free hand placatingly.

  “So, I can’t even talk to one of our classmates but Mindy gets a free pass on attacking Belle with a zombie horse,” Mitch snapped. He should have slammed the door. Nikola never gave him a hard time about his choice of friends, though he was beginning to suspect that he deserved it. Bates hadn’t always been this much of a dick, had he?

  “She only did it once.”

  Mitch started up the stairs three at a time, hoping that Bates would take the hint and leave him alone. Mindy had. How could talking to Nikola, no matter how many times, be worse than attacking Belle with a zombie horse? It’s the curse he reminded himself, it screwed with his perceptions and values. It wasn’t really Bates. Only it was.

  “What do you want?” Mitch demanded outside the door to his room. He was damned if he was going to let Bates corner him.

  “I thought you might want to try again,” Bates said, lowering his gaze, “we’ve been best friends for eleven years.”

  Ten and a half, Mitch thought. He kept his mouth shut.

  “Look, it’s Halloween in a couple of weeks and they’ll let us take Friday’s off if we’re up to date right?”

  “Yeah,” Mitch said slowly, wondering where this was going. They were allowed the occasional extended weekend if they behaved themselves but the privilege had gone largely unused in the aftermath of the earthquake and the curse.

  “So Halloween’s on a Thursday.”

  “Who cares?” Unless there was a potion that let him function without sleep Mitch didn’t think he’d be able to keep up with their modified curriculum. The potion probably existed but using it was almost certain to be a bad idea.

  “You do, we have tickets for the Dance with the Dead.”

  Great, a cheesy Halloween party in Taupo, that was sure to be exciting. Bates pulled a crumpled flyer out of his pocket. Mitch eyed it dubiously, the picture of a pipe organ-playing vampire in evening dress did nothing to abate his sense of cheesiness. Nor did the blood-red lined cape. Mitch shuddered, he’d seen entirely too much of that shade of red recently and the artist had done an excellent job. The top of the pipe organ was surrounded by shadows that looked suspiciously like bat wings and the writing looked like spider webs. Apparently it would be ‘A Night to Remember for the Rest of your Life.’ Mitch already wanted to forget.

  “Seriously?” he asked, handing the flyer back.

  “It’s the Dance with the Dead, Mitch,” Bates said, “it moves up and down the country every year.”

  “What on Earth possessed them to move it to Taupo?” Mitch asked. The flyer had been done by a professional, it was the only thing that saved it from looking tacky and overdone, but Mitch still didn’t think it was worth the effort.

  “Are you coming or not?”

  “It’s R18,” Mitch pointed out. Gwen could convincingly make his ID say that he was eighteen, he couldn’t.

  “They only check the tickets and we already have them.”

  “Fine,” Mitch sighed, Bates was trying. He thought that it sounded vaguely familiar but there were only so many Halloween themed party names you could come up with. “Can I grab my books and go to class now?”

  “You’re not going to be late Mitch,” Bates said, sparing a glance for his watch. “Just remember that costumes are mandatory.”

  “Of course they are,” Mitch said, finally opening his bedroom door and swinging it shut before Bates could follow. He wondered what other surprises today would have in store for him.

  #

  Even with Nikola’s help Mitch loathed the additional workload in Alchemy. He could manage the rote memorisation of magical properties well enough but the sigils rapidly lost all meaning for him. He’d been relieved when Miss Sindri announced that th
ey would be taking a little field trip though he had hoped for somewhere a bit more exciting than the Academy’s subbasement. Mitch hadn’t even known that they had a subbasement and he hadn’t expected one; even a basement was unusual in New Zealand.

  “Do you know what’s down here?” he asked Nikola, trying to ignore the feel of Gwen’s eyes boring into his back.

  “Magic,” Nikola replied. Mitch sighed. “Lots of magic. Probably Alchemy of some sort, it’s making me feel nauseous.” Gwen giggled.

  Miss Sindri pulled a heavy iron key out of a pocket and thrust it into a lock. Mitch frowned, trying to make out the outline of a door or something that would explain the presence of a keyhole in an empty wall. Nikola pointed to their left where a door was appearing as Miss Sindri wrestled with the lock. There was a final thunk and the door fully appeared. It was made of dark oak and heavily bound in wrought iron that had been shaped into sigils.

  ‘Lock spell,’ Nikola mouthed when Mitch glanced at him. He edged forward, telling himself it was to get a better look at the door and not to escape the feeling of Gwen breathing down his neck.

  “Can any of you tell me how to open this door?” Miss Sindri asked. Nikola rolled his eyes and raised a hand. Miss Sindri ignored him. “Miss Akiyama.”

  “The opening sigil?” Hikari said tentatively.

  “And what is its proper name?”

  “Um...”

  “I guess that can be your homework for tonight then,” Miss Sindri said, turning to the door. This time she pulled a series of iron bars from her pocket, all of them a different length and shape, and carefully slotted them into place. The sigils on the door began to writhe, sliding into a new arrangement that split down the middle and opened out to reveal another staircase.

  Mitch swallowed; there had been something incredibly disturbing about watching the sigils writhe across the door. In his experience, wrought iron was did not impersonate a snake. He suspected his day was about to get weirder; what could the Academy have that required a sub-subbasement? The subbasement consisted of a single empty room, they had no need to go further down. Mitch hoped that there wasn’t another earthquake while they were down there.