Vivienne Blackwood's Arc

Chapter 2 of 6

The archive held everything but the one name Vivienne needed. She spread the ledgers across a long table while Marcus kept watch at the door. Page after page listed the silenced musicians. Names. Dates. The songs they had played before the dark took their voices. But no entry named who had written the ritual score. Her cat sat on the windowsill, tail flicking. Vivienne pressed her palms flat on the oldest ledger. "The composer isn't here," she said. "These are only the victims." Marcus studied her. "Then who would have it?" "Someone who keeps the books others burn." Vivienne thought of the one place that collected forbidden music. A secluded library, far from any street, that took in texts no university would touch. She had visited once, years ago. The woman who ran it had refused to let her past the front room. They found the library at the edge of the fields, its narrow windows glowing orange and green. Vivienne knocked. The door opened before her knuckles fell twice. Esther Blackwood stood in the gap, dark hair pinned high, glasses catching the lamplight. She was Vivienne's cousin, though they had not spoken in years. The last time, Esther had turned her away at this same door. "You," Esther said. Not warm. Not surprised. "I wondered when the curse would bring you here." "I need the name of the composer," Vivienne said. "The ritual score. The one that silences the players." Esther did not move aside. "I know the name. It's written in a book I translated myself." Her mouth tightened. "The book is gone. Someone took it from me last month." Marcus shifted behind Vivienne. "Took it how?" "Walked in. Walked out. I was asleep." Esther said it flat, like a fact she had already punished herself for. "I sleep less now." Vivienne stepped closer. "Then we both want the same thing found. Help me, and I'll help you get your book back." Esther looked at her a long moment. The green lamp hissed. At last she opened the door wide. "The codex names the composer on its final page. I read it once. A man who signed his work with a symbol, not letters." She led them into shadowed shelves that smelled of dust and old ink. "The thief left a mark. Wax, pressed into the shelf where the book sat. I kept it." She set a broken wax seal on the table. Vivienne leaned over it. The shape stopped her breath. It was one of the symbols from the ritual score, the kind that blurred her vision when she stared too long. Her eyes swam. She looked away fast. "You know that mark," Esther said. "I've seen it between the staves," Vivienne said. "On the music itself." The thief and the composer shared a sign. Finding one would find the other. Vivienne had a partner now, and a trail. She also had a new question, heavier than before: who had the codex, and why did they already know the song.