Ruins by Joshua Winning Page A

continue your training now.”
    “I’ll fetch my crash helmet.”
    “Your what?”
    Nicholas sighed. “It’s locked. Can’t open it.”
    “What a delightfully defeatist attitude you possess. It’s a wonder you even bother to get out of bed in the morning. Here, take it and I’ll tell you how to open it.”
    Nicholas grabbed the box and turned it over in his hands, just as he had the first time. It was about the size of a flat jewellery box. But it was useless. There was no way to open it. That didn’t seem to faze Isabel, though. Could she really help him uncover what was inside?
    “It is yours,” the cat said, sitting upright. “Nobody else has control over it. You alone may open it.”
    “It was a birthday present,” he said. “It’s my birthday next week.”
    I’ll be sixteen , he thought.
    “I’m sure your parents wouldn’t mind if you opened it early.”
    “They’d kill me,” Nicholas said.
    “All the same. Now, shut your eyes.”
    “You going to do funny things to me?”
    “Take this seriously,” Isabel snapped.
    Nicholas closed his eyes, feeling ridiculous.
    “Now visualise the box. Every detail of it. The smooth corners. The soft material. The weight of it. Build a picture of it.”
    “Yes, master,” Nicholas droned.
    “Have you done it?”
    Nicholas took a breath and pushed aside his self-consciousness. He tried to imagine what the box looked like. He’d had it in his hands a few moments ago. It wasn’t heavy, but it wasn’t light, either. And the velvet felt soft, almost like rabbit fur.
    “Yes,” he said quietly.
    “Now imagine where it is, here on the floor. Imagine it sitting before you, just as it is.”
    In his mind, the box was now sitting on the carpet.
    “Picture it there,” came Isabel’s voice. “Now reach out – no, not with your hands. Reach out with your insides, with your guts, and open it.”
    “But–”
    “Just. Do it.”
    Nicholas huffed and pictured the box again. He reached for it as the cat had instructed, pushing his will on to it. He saw himself picking it up and there, where nothing had been before, was a little silver catch. He flicked it.
    There came a snapping, creaking sound and a soft thud.
    Nicholas opened his eyes. The box lay open on the floor.
    “Did I–?” he marvelled, pulling the box nearer to inspect its contents. There was wood. And metal. And something shining cold and purple. It was some kind of apparatus, nestled in the soft cushion of the box’s interior.
    “Well don’t just stare at it,” Isabel said.
    Nicholas swallowed, his throat dry. Gingerly, he pulled the contraption from the box and unfolded it. Two wooden legs slotted into a flat panel that formed a base. Suspended on a silver thread was a purple disc that looked like it was made of amethyst. When it was put together, Nicholas thought it somewhat resembled a mechanical metronome; he’d seen musicians using them to keep time.
    “It’s a seeing glass,” Isabel told him, as if she had known all along what was in the box. “Many Sensitives use them to begin with; it helps them to hone their skills. This is a particularly fetching specimen.”
    “What does it do?” Nicholas asked.
    “It helps you access what’s already there, inside you.” She blinked at the seeing glass. “You set the crystal swinging and it puts you into a trance. It relaxes you so that you can concentrate solely on seeing and sensing beyond what’s in front of you.”
    “So it’s going to hypnotise me?”
    “Not exactly,” Isabel said. “Let’s try it.”
    Nicholas eyed the instrument unsurely. Accessing that part of himself, the part he didn’t understand, made him nervous.
    But it might help him find the girl.
    “Set the crystal going,” the cat instructed. “Send your thoughts out into the spirit planes. Ask the question you need answered. Ask for the whereabouts of the girl.”
    Trembling slightly, Nicholas tapped the purple disc and it began to swing from side to side. He