The Mystwick School of Musicraft

We have to walk four blocks from the train station to the hotel where the auditions are. I spent the whole two-hour trip watching the brass trio play the locomotion spell that powered the great metal train. And now I hum their spell as I walk beside Gran. The street is lined with tall brick buildings, the sidewalks flooded with people hurrying in all directions. Cars jam the road, horns blaring, taxi drivers leaning out of their windows to shout. This is only the second time I've been to the city. The first time, I came with Mrs. Parrish and the other music craft students from school to see a movie at the big cinema. That was one of the best nights of my life. They had a maestro who played the film score on the piano while we watched it, and her spells had produced all kinds of effects. Wind, rain, fireworks. So it had felt like we were in the movie. I'd been so starry-eyed afterward, I'd barely noticed anything else after we left the cinema. But now, I look around with my mouth hanging open, eyes as round as cymbals. There is magic everywhere. I've never seen so many types of instruments, or heard so many different spells being played at once. Summoning and hovering spells, illusions and glamours. The air carries the smoky smell of magic, like the scent of a match right after you blow out the flame. Through the open windows of a cafe, I hear a pianist playing a complicated concerto that delivers diners' plates and cups on glittering ribbons of magic. Across the street, on a fifth-floor balcony, a little girl plays Au Claire de la Lune on a plastic recorder, her magic coaxing a small potted lily to unfurl its petals. I recognize that spell. It's a common practice piece for young musicians, and I remember playing it over and over when I first began my training, until I was hearing it in my sleep. But the girl is having trouble focusing, because several balconies over, a man with a jug and a pair of castanets is playing a messy wind spell, perhaps trying to cool down his apartment. I wince at the din he produces. Just because anyone can play a spell doesn't mean they should. I watch them until Gran shouts at me to look where I'm going. I'd nearly tripped over a storm drain. Newsstands bristle with papers, headlines screaming things like, Tokyo Philharmonic staves off deadly typhoon, and Nigerian maestro composes new cancer-fighting spell, but is it too good to be true? People on the corners hawk rolled spells in plastic tubes, or hand out flyers advertising spectacular performances by music craft's best illusionists. Witness conjuration of cosmic proportion, one night only. I take every flyer they thrust at me, eyes wide, until Gran scowls and shoves them all into a recycling bin, muttering about charlatans. I bounce impatiently alongside her, while the sounds of the city sweep over us. My ears can't help but pick up the melodies hidden in the noise. Every place has its own music, if you listen hard enough. The woods have a quiet, whispery nocturne, all swishing leaves and wind, one of my favorite sounds. It makes me want to lie down and close my eyes and just breathe. But the city is a symphony, so many sounds all clashing and blending, rising and falling, honking cars, shouting people, and of course the street musicians who perform magic for spare change. We pass a man who offers to smooth the wrinkles from Gran's face with a spell from his accordion. Honestly, huffs Gran, not even giving him a glance. But she looks at me with a scowl. This is what you want to do with your life, Amelia? These people are novices, I point out. When I've graduated from Mistwick, I'll be a maestro, Gran. Like Mom. You know that. She always pretends she doesn't know anything about music craft, like it's not important to remember the difference between novices and maestros. As if pretending none of it exists could convince me to stop playing. Mrs. Parrish explained it to me years ago. While novices are small-time spell workers, maestros are more powerful, specially-trained musicians. In groups called symphonies, they travel the world, calming hurricanes and bringing rain to droughts and building bridges. All kinds of wonderful and beautiful things.