Study in Slaughter (Schooled in Magic) (33 page)

She looked around Madame Razz’s office with some curiosity. It was large, crammed with sofas and a single small bookshelf. Emily herself had never been homesick—there was nothing on Earth she wanted to go back to—but she knew there were other students who
did
miss their homes and families. Madame Razz comforted them as best as she could; sometimes, she even took them home for a brief visit. The books on the shelves were all moralistic tracts that promoted proper standards of behavior. Emily had been forced to read a couple for etiquette lessons and had been left with the feeling that the writers had intended to create Purity Sues.

The door opened, revealing a tired-looking Lady Barb. “This had better be important,” she said, shortly. “Right now, we’re searching the school again.”

Emily nodded, wincing inwardly at the edge in her tutor’s voice. “There’s a pattern in the killings,” she said, and explained. “Kay might be the next target.”

“We deduced that,” Lady Barb said, with some irritation. “She’s currently under the protection of Sergeant Bane.”

Emily allowed herself a moment of relief. She didn’t know Sergeant Bane very well, but he seemed to be as tough and fearless as Sergeant Harkin, while possessing the magic his predecessor had lacked. One of the students had tested his defenses and discovered, too late, that they were designed to repel all hexes and jinxes. And then the sergeant had turned him into a pig for ten minutes, before giving the entire class a long lecture on taking all opponents seriously, no matter what they looked like.

“Good,” she said, instead. “What about fingerprints?”

Lady Barb looked blank. “Fingerprints?”

Emily smiled. They hadn’t wasted her time after all. “Each of our fingerprints are unique,” she explained. “If I touch something, I’ll leave a fingerprint behind. You need to check the blades used in the killings for prints...”

She spoke rapidly, outlining everything she could remember about fingerprints.

“I’ll suggest it to the Grandmaster,” Lady Barb said, when Emily had finished. “But if the killer used gloves there won’t be anything left.”

“It’s worth trying,” Emily said. “I couldn’t think of anything else...”

“That’s not true,” Alassa interrupted. “Are the bodies actually
real
?”

“That’s an interesting question,” Lady Barb acknowledged. “The bodies were so completely desiccated that it is hard to be entirely sure. But there’s no reason to think otherwise.”

Emily frowned. What would Sherlock Holmes do? “Was Danielle killed in the same manner as Travis?”

“Yes,” Lady Barb said. “And yet it should have been instantly noticeable. It couldn’t have taken place outside a seven-minute span, while there were hundreds of magicians outside the changing rooms. I don’t understand it.”

“Me neither,” Emily agreed. Two victims...the necromancer must be heading full tilt towards insanity. “There is another possibility.”

She hesitated, then outlined their suspicions about Master Tor.

“He
was
questioned under truth spells, after the Warden’s body was discovered,” Lady Barb said, when she had finished. “And, whatever else can be said about him, he wouldn’t kill students placed under his care.”

“He left Emily defenseless,” Alassa said, hotly. “Do you know how many hexes I had to take off her?”

“They didn’t actually
kill
her,” Lady Barb said, although she seemed pleased rather than surprised at Alassa’s sudden protectiveness. “And there
were
good reasons for that punishment.”

She shook her head. “Master Tor is unlikely to be the killer,” she added. “If nothing else, he was tested quite thoroughly after the Warden died and he knew nothing about it.”

“Unless he was powerful enough to shrug off the truth spell,” Emily said, slowly. She’d read up on cases where the prime suspect had done just that, saving himself from punishment. “Is he that powerful?”

Lady Barb smiled, a little unkindly. “Master Tor will never be a great sorcerer—and he knows it,” she said. “Nor is he ever likely to enjoy more power and influence than that which comes from teaching at Whitehall. And he wouldn’t risk his position by killing students who have such powerful connections.”

“Unless he’s hiding his power,” Alassa pressed. “He might be...”

“Unless he somehow managed to boost his power without going mad,” Lady Barb snapped, “his power level hasn’t increased beyond his recorded level. We
are
quite good at measuring magical power and potential at this school. Now, unless you have some actual
proof...
”

“He could be covering for someone else,” Alassa suggested, sullenly. “If he were trying to frame Emily, he...”

“Would have needed to know in advance what was going to happen,” Lady Barb said, her patience at an end. “I think it is highly unlikely that he is involved, save by coincidence.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Do you have anything
useful
to add?”

Emily swallowed, then asked the question that had been bothering her ever since she’d realized they had to be dealing with a serial killer. “What will happen to this person, when you catch him?”

Lady Barb scowled. “Depends,” she said. “If he’s a necromancer, we will kill him and destroy the body. You can never trust a necromancer not to try to ensure that he can never truly die. If not, he’ll be sent to face the White Council. They will determine his fate.”

Emily nodded. “As long as you don’t hand your jailhouse keys to unscrupulous creatures,” she said, “you shouldn’t have a problem.”

Lady Barb gave her an odd look, then let it pass. “No one has ever been known to escape from the Garden of the Stoned Philosophers,” she said. “Even
going
there is strongly discouraged.”

Nothing Emily had ever read—in science fiction or fantasy—allowed her to believe in the concept of the inescapable prison, but there was no point in trying to argue. Instead, she stood and headed for the door.

“Wait,” Lady Barb said, coldly. “Madame Razz informs me that you intended to make your way through the building to find us.”

Emily swallowed. “Yes,” she said. “We wanted to help...”

“That was extremely foolish,” Lady Barb said. “Or has it escaped your attention that you are among the prime suspects? If you happened to be caught outside your rooms, it would be a great deal harder to prove your innocence. You have political enemies who will be happy to take whatever chance they can get to discredit you.”

She rounded on Alassa. “And
you
are your father’s sole heir,” she added, tightly. “Did you realize, perhaps, that if you died here Zangaria would slip into civil war? Half of the barons may currently be dead, but the remainder would be unable to avoid making a grab for power. You risked far more than just your life when you wanted to leave the bedrooms, where you are
protected
.”

“Didn’t do much for Danielle,” Alassa said, softly. “I...”

Lady Barb’s eyes glittered with fury. “Your father, I suspect, will be horrified when he hears of your exploits,” she snapped. “And so he should be. He already wasted most of your early life; now, you’re threatening to waste the rest of it.”

Alassa’s face seemed to darken, very slightly. “I...”

“Emily,” Lady Barb ordered, “wait outside.”

Emily hesitated, then obeyed.

The corridor outside seemed as silent as the grave. There was no sign of Madame Razz or anyone else; she almost felt as if she were alone in the school. Even the lights had been dimmed, although there was no apparent reason. It was hardly night time. She gritted her teeth as she heard a smacking sound, followed by yelps of pain from inside the office. At least Lady Barb had given Alassa some privacy.

There was a long silent pause, then the door opened. Alassa looked tearful, one hand rubbing her rear as she made her way past Emily and down towards her bedroom. Emily hesitated, unsure of what to do, then gasped in pain as Lady Barb’s hand caught hold of her arm and pulled her into the office. She couldn’t help noticing that Lady Barb was carrying a wooden hairbrush in one hand.

“What you did was foolish as well as risky,” Lady Barb said. “I shudder to think of what would have happened if you’d been caught.”

Emily lowered her eyes. Lady Barb was right. It
had
been foolish.

“I’ll suggest fingerprint tests to the Grandmaster later tonight,” Lady Barb added. “And I will see to it that Kay remains under guard. The Grandmaster will, I suspect, make a full announcement tomorrow. Until then, I suggest that you keep your mouth closed. There are already hundreds of rumors running around the school.”

She pulled Emily gently over her knee, tugged down her trousers and went to work. Emily gritted her teeth as the first smack struck her rear, then cried out in pain as Lady Barb smacked her again and again. It felt like hours before she was allowed to stand up again, clutching her bottom in the hope that it would somehow quench the painful fire.

“
That
,” Lady Barb said, “was for being foolish and putting your own life in danger.”

“My life is
always
in danger,” Emily snapped, unable to keep the tears under control. “And I...”

“That’s no excuse to make it worse,” Lady Barb snapped. “I thought better of you, really I did.”

Somehow, Emily discovered, the disappointment in her voice seemed worse than the punishment itself.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

H
ER REAR WAS STILL THROBBING WHEN
the students were awakened at eight bells the following morning by an announcement ordering them to make their way to the Great Hall. She pulled herself out of bed, careful not to sit down too hard, and pulled a loose robe on over her nightshirt. No one would notice that she wasn’t wearing standard underclothes beneath her robes. She ran a hand through her hair, using magic to tie it back in a long ponytail, then splashed water on her face. It didn’t make her feel better.

“Hurry up,” the Gorgon hissed. “I want to know what’s going on.”

Emily hesitated, then walked out of the room and met up with her friends. Alassa didn’t look as though she’d slept any better than Emily herself, although she was better at hiding it, either with makeup or glamors. No one else seemed to notice, thankfully. The mood was subdued, almost fearful. If two students could die in the school,
anyone
could be next.

Unless the pattern holds up,
Emily thought.
The next to die will be the person who found the last body.

She shuddered at the thought as they made their way down the stairs and into the great hall. It was crammed with students, giving them an excuse to press themselves against the wall rather than sit down. Several grim-faced men wearing white uniforms were positioned around the hall, their eyes flickering from student to student. Sergeant Bane was standing in one corner, next to the pale-skinned girl who’d stumbled across Danielle’s body. She looked to be on the verge of fainting dead away. Emily felt a twinge of pity. The poor girl had never asked to be targeted by an insane murderer.

The Grandmaster strode out onto the stage as Mistress Irene bellowed for quiet. He looked almost...defeated, Emily realized in horror; he didn’t seem to have slept at all since Danielle’s body had been found. Few of the tutors looked any better. Apart from Sergeant Miles, who looked so disgustingly fresh that Emily was sure he had used a rejuvenation spell, they all looked tired and worn.

“Yesterday afternoon, Danielle of House Meridian was found dead,” the Grandmaster said, very quietly. Enhancement spell or not, they had to strain to hear him. “Her body was desiccated, utterly ripped clean of life by magic. So far, no suspect has been found.”

Emily fought to keep her expression blank as several pairs of accusing eyes turned towards her. There were hundreds of witnesses to where she’d been while Danielle had been taking her last breaths, but somehow she knew that wouldn’t be enough. If people were scared, they would lash out at the closest target, regardless of guilt or innocence. She silently thanked Lady Barb for insisting that she be allowed to use magic again. It was going to be needed.

“We have searched the school again and turned up nothing—nothing related to the murder, at least,” the Grandmaster said. “This leaves us with a disturbing mystery.”

There was a long pause. Emily wondered, absently, just what
else
the search had turned up. No doubt students had been hiding contraband or forbidden texts all over the school for years, just as her former classmates had done on Earth. Some things were truly universal. And then there were questionable alchemical ingredients, pornographic materials and drugs. They would be serious business on any other day.

“I have consulted with the White Council,” the Grandmaster continued. “It has been decided that the search will be expanded to student possessions and...”

He broke off as a low rumble of outrage ran through the hall. Emily cursed inwardly, knowing that it would give her detractors one more reason to hate her. If the Gorgon had been furious at having her possessions searched, just for sharing a room with Emily, the rest of the school would be even worse. And yet there was no
reason
to blame Emily...not, she knew, that it would matter. Mob rule was rarely logical.

“Quiet,” the Grandmaster snapped. A wave of power washed through the hall, silencing the unruly students. “This decision was not taken lightly. There may be a necromancer in the school and finding him takes priority over everything else. As a consolation, of sorts, there will be an amnesty for anything we discover that is on the banned list, provided that it is sent out of the school by the end of the day.

“However, many of your families have requested that you be sent home until the necromancer is uncovered,” he continued. “Those who have been called home—the lists are posted on the walls—are to report to the Great Hall in an hour to have their trunks searched before going through the portal to the White Mountains, where you will be sent to your final destination. The search will be carried out by Mediators”—he nodded towards the white-uniformed men—“but will be supervised by Whitehall staff.