Cordyceps Twenty-Four
Cordyceps Twenty-Four
I wanted to read the letter right away, but I had something of an audience. A few of the boys decided to escort me around, in case the Trolls decided to kick my ribs in again.
It was a nice gesture. A show of solidarity that I definitely didn’t deserve, and which caused me more trouble than anything else, but it wasn’t all bad. I got to spend a bit more time with Milo, and I caught up on the local gossip.
As it turned out, the story about Lockhart had changed from a wildly imaginative murder to something a little more plain. He’d been heard choking on something before he tripped down the stairs. Apparently, his flailing didn’t help him catch onto the rails, and he cracked his head on the way down.
I was, at least according to the rumour mill, entirely safe from suspicion.
The rumour mill didn’t tell me what the staff and administration thought, but I had the impression that they would want to bury this story before it ruined the school’s reputation, and in all likelihood they wouldn’t dig into it too much.
Which was fantastic news for me.
Less fantastic, was the class I had after lunch. Thursday afternoon Music class.
Montgomery had the same class, so we walked to it together. The lessons were held in a small room behind a comfortable theatre that I hadn’t noticed before. It was a concert hall with maybe room for a hundred or so in the audience, with a small stage and everything. I imagined that the academy might have used it for performances or something, but at the moment, it, and the room behind it, hosted the Music club.
We walked in, and I discovered a strangely muted cacophony.
Several students were practising with various instruments already. Bizarrely enough, those instruments weren’t making enough noise.
“Oh, that’s clever,” Montgomery said as he looked about the room. There was an area at the rear with several instruments on racks and in cases for students to grab, and the room had some space for a pair of pianos and plenty of other instruments. I noticed a bookshelf crammed over-full with sheet music books to one side as well.
“Firsties?” a student asked as we came in. He was older, maybe in his last year judging by the hint to stubble on his cheek. A Troll, but he was smiling kindly enough while idly tapping a beat on the desk he sat on. “Alright, come here,” he said.
We weren’t the only first-year students, of course. There were three more Dragons and four Trolls. One of them had to be Harper Lovelace, my next target, but I couldn’t tell who it was with a quick glance.
“Alright,” the older student said. “Welcome to Music. It’s an hour and a half of practice. Marks are handed out at the end of the year based on improvement, so as long as you don’t just waste your time, you’ll do fine. Older years sometimes form quartets or little bands. Playing with someone else is a whole other skill than playing on your own. And we appreciate music here. It’s not all about playing an instrument because your mom thinks you should.”
That got a few chuckles from some of the others, but I refrained from laughing just yet.
“Anyway, grab an instrument, or bring your own, and make sure your circle’s active when you play.”
A hand went up, one of the Trolls. “What’s a circle?” he asked.
“Oh,” the senior said. “Right. See that square marking on the ground? Looks like a metal band inlaid onto the floor? That’s a circle. It’s a magic device that dampens sound. You activate it with the little boxes you see there. Just twist the knob. It’ll nab some of your mana, the longer you twist, the longer it’ll go for, the more mana it takes. You’ll get the knack of it soon enough. Tell me if one of them breaks. Questions?”
“Why’s is called a circle if it’s square?” one of the Dragons asked.
He shrugged in reply. “Why’s a C-sharp the same as a D-flat?”
“Um,” the student said. “I don’t know?”
“That’s my answer too,” he said with a grin. “Ask someone who’s into magical devices and they might know. They call it a circle, so that’s what we call them, even if they’re square. Now, the first few classes, just get used to where things are, don’t fight over instruments. It’s first-come-first-serve, but that doesn’t matter so much when a senior needs what you have. But don’t worry, we have a lot of the most common instruments.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
He nodded, then wandered over to some other seniors who were chatting in one of the circles while one of them casually plucked at a cello.
“What did you play again?” Montgomery asked while the others rushed across the room to grab an instrument.
“Uh... nothing,” I said. “I thought I’d learn here?”
He rubbed at his chin. “Well, I know the piano fairly well, but they all look taken. There’s some violins at the back! I can show you the basics!”
I followed him, picked out a violin from one of the cases pretty much at random, then sat in one of the circles with Montgomery.
The kid was nice. He actually showed me how to hold onto the instrument, and was clearly trying to suppress his wince at the first teeth-grindingly awful note that screamed out of my violin.
“Okay, uh, no, hold the bow like this,” he said while demonstrating. Montgomery played a few simple notes, then jumped into a little ditty, moving slowly so that I could see what he was doing. It sounded nice.
When he was playing.
When I tried, it was claws on chalk.
After half an hour, I’d managed to barely get every-other-note to sound vaguely correct, but then I discovered that I was both tone-deaf, and unable to play to any sort of beat, even one that was heavily slowed down.
Montgomery gave me a wooden smile as class ended. “Well, at least if you’re graded on improvement, uh. Yeah.”
I stuffed the violin away (we’d switched instruments at some point, just to confirm that it wasn’t the violin but the player that was bad) and clasped the case shut. “Yeah, sure,” I said. “Maybe by the end of the year I’ll be able to play Mary Had a Little Lamb without making someone’s ears bleed.”
“I don’t know that one,” he said.
I waved it off. “Just a kid’s song I know. Anyway, thanks. Next time you should go practice on your own, you need to improve too, right?” I patted him on the shoulder, then gestured to a washroom near the exit. “I’ll be right back.”
It was interesting, I idly noted, how guys didn’t accompany each other into the washroom the way women did. Just one of those little things that I wasn’t entirely used to, but which I could easily make use of.
I parked myself in a stall and pulled out the letter and unfolded it.
“Hello, Nephew,
I’m glad to hear that you’re achieving so much so quickly at the Academy! Very impressive!
But remember, moderation is key. Don’t push yourself too hard now, you hear me? Taking the opportunity now to make new friends is well and good, but remember that the best friendships are long-term.
Also, remember to keep up your studies and listen to your teachers. A well-rounded student always fares better, and you don’t want to stand out in the eyes of your teachers, not unless you do so in a good light.
It’s too bad you haven’t enrolled in a culinary class. I have a commoner friend, Jimothy, who runs a stall by the markets near the school. Fantastic cook! You should try his pepper-ball skewers one day. Maybe I’ll get you some as a treat this weekend?
As for your recent request, don’t worry, your usual allowance will be saved up so you can spend it when you’re back. Maybe even with a little extra!
Your favourite Uncle
-Grey Killua”
I grinned, made note of that paragraph with the ‘Jimothy’ fellow, and then tore the letter into small pieces. I flushed half of them at random, and stuffed the other half in my pocket to flush out or burn elsewhere.
So, the Union was happy with my work so far, but wanted me to slow down? Well, that was fair. I did jump ahead a bit, and it was possible that they wanted some targets eliminated at certain other times to play into other plans.
I could accommodate them, for now. It was giving me the opportunity to get a nice, well-rounded education.
Not that I’d ever let them pretend that this was to my benefit. As far as the union was concerned, I was spending time undercover in highly dangerous enemy territory, and my pay had better reflect that.
I met up with Montgomery outside the washroom while shaking my hands dry. “So, Maths next, right?”
***