Authors: Christopher G. Nuttall
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #New Adult & College, #Sword & Sorcery, #Young Adult, #alternate world, #sorcerers, #Magicians, #Magic, #Fantasy
She scrambled to her feet, ducking a freeze spell that wouldn’t have trapped a younger student for very long and hastily glanced around for cover. There was none; bracing herself, she cast a freeze spell and followed it up with a melting spell aimed at the floor, hoping it would be enough to distract her target. If this was a test...
Mistress Danielle snorted as she batted away both spells, aiming the freeze spell back at Emily. Emily ducked it, casting a whole series of fireballs towards the older woman and then a ward-cracking spell of her own. Mistress Danielle did...
something
... and the spell vanished without doing any harm. Emily had barely a second to realize that the spell had failed completely before Mistress Danielle tossed back two of her own. Her protections, already weakened, shriveled to nothing. A moment later, she was frozen and helpless.
Break the spell
, she thought, desperately. Mistress Danielle paced towards her, one hand drawing a silver knife from her belt. Near-panic made it hard to concentrate.
Break the spell
...
She lurched forward as the spell snapped, too late. Mistress Danielle caught her effortlessly and held her knife to Emily’s throat. Emily froze, suddenly unsure of the older woman’s intentions. Did she want revenge for her dead master? She’d been so sure Mistress Danielle had disapproved of Master Grey’s final duel...
Mistress Danielle peered down at her. “Yield?”
“Yield,” Emily said. Her breath came in ragged gasps; the older woman didn’t even seem winded. “I yield.”
“You didn’t do too badly,” Mistress Danielle said. She returned her knife to her belt, then helped Emily to stand upright. “Throwing the table at me was a good thought, but I caught you by surprise and weakened your wards. And you were holding back, too. What happened to the champion who killed Master Grey?”
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Emily said. “I thought that something more dangerous might kill you.”
“Perhaps,” Mistress Danielle said. She turned and strode towards the chair. “And what if I had been trying to kill you?”
Emily had no answer. Instead, she looked around the apartment. The table had been smashed beyond repair, one of the chairs had been broken... she scowled as she realized that several of her fireballs had struck cupboards on the wall and knocked them down to the floor, scattering their contents all over the room. Mistress Danielle clearly hadn’t bothered to take the lesson to a spellchamber, where damage would have been minimized. But then, Emily had to admit, she wouldn’t have been quite so surprised.
She rubbed her forehead, feeling sweat pricking her brow. “What did you do to my spell?”
“I extruded a ward forward and caught it,” Mistress Danielle said. “There was very little magic for the spell to eat so it just died a natural death. It’s a relatively simple technique, but it requires a great deal of concentration until it’s second nature.”
Emily sighed. “What about the mess?”
“I’ll be paying the landlord well above the going rate,” Mistress Danielle said. She picked up the broken chair and muttered a quick spell, fixing the damage. “But he owes me a favor in any case.”
Emily winced as Mistress Danielle shoved the chair towards her. The Nameless World hadn’t had the concept of mass production, at least until she’d introduced it. Plastering the wall, replacing the table and repairing the cupboards would require skilled craftsmen, unless the landlord could do his own repairs. The cost might be quite high. She sat down, wondering if she should offer to pay. She’d been the one who’d tossed most of the fireballs.
“You have a great deal of raw power,” Mistress Danielle said. She took the other chair and crossed her shapely legs. “You lack two things: the knowledge to
use
your power effectively and the killer instinct. The former will come in time, the latter requires practice. You must learn to show no mercy to your enemies.”
“I could have killed you,” Emily protested.
“A risk I took,” Mistress Danielle said. “You fought Master Grey, I suspect, because you saw no way out. Here, you held back. That could prove fatal in combat.”
Emily nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
“Our next meeting will be at the spellchambers,” Mistress Danielle said. “I will hire one for every Friday afternoon, at least until you cancel our arrangement. If you can come at other times, please do, but there will be no guarantee of being able to obtain a spellchamber. It would be a great deal easier if we could use one at Whitehall.”
“I doubt that will be possible,” Emily said, tiredly.
Mistress Danielle lifted her eyebrows, but nodded. “So I hear,” she said. “The other point I should bring to your attention is this: there is a good chance you will be injured, perhaps badly. This is not Whitehall. There are few protective spells and fewer Healers. I will do what I can, of course, but I have my limits. Do you understand the risks?”
“Yes,” Emily said. She’d been hurt before in Martial Magic, sometimes badly. Keeping up with the spell-casting had been hard but doable; physically, she had always been at the bottom of the class. “I understand.”
“Very well,” Mistress Danielle said. “Inform me if, for any reason, you are unable to meet me. I will not be pleased if you miss a class without warning me.”
“I’ll do my best,” Emily said. “I can make you a chat parchment, if you like...”
“It requires blood, I’ve heard,” Mistress Danielle said. “So no. But it was a good thought.”
She rose. “I’ll see you next week,” she added. “And I suggest you try to come as early as possible.”
Emily nodded, then hurried out of the door and down to the street. Her magic felt odd, now her protections had been torn away; she took a moment to rebuild them before stepping onto the street and glancing around. If anything, there were more people out than before, crowding their way towards the center of town. She puzzled over it for a long moment, then started to walk towards the enchanter and alchemist supply shops. Caleb would be there, if he hadn’t already completed his business. They could go have dinner before heading back to the school.
She found herself smiling as she turned the corner and headed towards the nearest alchemist shop. It was going to be hard, studying under Mistress Danielle, but she had the feeling that it was going to be rewarding. And, if nothing else, it was a way to evade Gordian’s rules. He’d banned her from learning from Sergeant Miles, but he hadn’t said anything about learning from someone else.
And I need to learn
, she told herself, firmly.
There’s no choice
.
E
MILY STILL FELT QUIETLY OPTIMISTIC THE
following morning, when she had breakfast early with Cabiria and Caleb before making her way to the common room near the First Year dorms. It was deserted, save for an oversized white rat in a cage that eyed her through beady black eyes. Emily tested the rat, wondering if it was actually a student who had been transfigured by another student, yet it was just a normal rat. It was unusual for young students to have familiars—she touched the snake-bracelet, wishing there was more time to spend with the Death Viper—but Madame Razz might want them to learn how to take care of a pet before they had a chance to bond with a familiar.
She took a seat in one of the comfortable armchairs and waited, patiently, for her students to arrive. Lillian and Jasmine entered first, both showing shy smiles as they stepped into the room and saw her. Emily waved them to chairs and nodded politely to Tiega as she entered, feeling a flicker of sympathy for the ugly girl. Behind her, Adana looked irked as she stormed into the room, but she had the wisdom to say nothing. Emily hadn’t minced words when she’d spoken to the younger girl.
“Julia and Dulcet are on their way,” Adana said, shortly. She seemed to be having problems meeting Emily’s eyes. “They were just delayed at breakfast.”
Emily leaned forward. “Delayed?”
“Professor Lombardi wanted to discuss their progress with them,” Adana explained. “I don’t think they’re in trouble.”
“I certainly hope not,” Emily said. But it was odd. Professor Lombardi wouldn’t normally talk to students on a Saturday. “Take a seat, please.”
The door opened again, revealing Julia and Dulcet. The former had a wide smile on her face, the latter was expressionless. Emily made a mental note to speak to Julia and Dulcet privately afterwards, then motioned for her charges to take their seats and pull them up around her. She
had
booked the common room, but she took the precaution of casting a mild locking charm on the door anyway. It would help prevent unnecessary interruptions.
“Thank you all for coming,” she said. She
had
told them that it wasn’t compulsory, but she had a feeling they thought otherwise. “Before we start, does anyone have any questions or issues they want to raise?”
Adana held up her hand. There was an angry red mark covering her palm. “Is Professor Lombardi always so... so picky?”
“He’s seen far too many spells go wrong through carelessness,” Emily said. She’d had her palm rapped a few times during her first two years at Whitehall too. “What did you do?”
“Left off an endpoint,” Adana said. “He said it would ruin the spell.”
“He was probably right,” Emily said. “You could have lost the
mana
before the spell completed its work.”
She looked from face to face. “Any other questions?”
Julia held up her hand. “I would like to trade bedrooms with Jasmine,” she said. “She does not have any objection to this.”
Emily looked at Jasmine. “Is that true?”
“Yes,” Jasmine said, quietly. “I would prefer to room with Lillian.”
“You’ll also be rooming with Dulcet,” Emily said. “Did you ask Madame Razz?”
“She said we should ask you,” Julia said.
Emily frowned. She hadn’t realized she had the last say in room assignments. As far as she knew, it was the Year Heads who made
those
choices. Master Tor had flatly refused to allow
her
to change rooms, pointing out that she needed to make friends with other students, as well as Alassa and Imaiqah. He’d had a point, she suspected; she just hadn’t been in any state to acknowledge it at the time. And yet she’d always thought the room assignments for a student’s first year at Whitehall were random. She’d never believed that any real thought went into the process.
She considered it for a long moment. Master Tor might argue that Tiega and Adana needed to learn how to get along—and Jasmine could learn a great deal from both of them. And yet, she couldn’t fault Julia for wanting to room with the other two girls. They were both from magical families. Julia could gain access to magical society through them. But there was a bit of her that simply didn’t
like
Julia...
Jasmine would be happier rooming with her friend
, she told herself.
And no one will seriously object for their first year
.
“Very well,” she said, finally. “Tell Madame Razz that I have agreed you can swap rooms.”
She shrugged. “I can’t guarantee that you’ll be allowed to share rooms next year,” she added, warningly. “They didn’t let me share with my friends either.”
Julia smiled. It was a very calculating smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Emily said. She looked at Dulcet and frowned, inwardly. Maybe keeping her away from Julia was the best possible thing to do. “Are there any other issues to raise?”
Jasmine frowned. “Professor Thande is wrong about the use of ragwort,” she said. “My aunt uses it for more than just potion bases...”
“I wouldn’t tell him that,” Emily said. Professor Thande was far more affable than Professor Lombardi, which had always struck her as worrying because his class was often a great deal more dangerous, but he had his limits. “You’ll be scrubbing cauldrons for the next few weeks.”
“But he is,” Jasmine insisted. “It can be used for...”
Emily shook her head, firmly. “Any other issues?”
There were none. “What I’m going to show you,” she said, “are very basic wards and protective spells. You cast these on yourselves. Unlike the more complex protections, which you will be taught later, these do not draw directly on your magic field and as such need to be renewed every two or three days.”
She paused. “They also only work once,” she added. “One ward will cope with one prank spell, at the cost of losing the ward. What does that mean?”
Julia leaned forward, interested. “If you had three wards and someone tried to turn you into a frog four times, they’d get you with the fourth spell,” she said. “Am I right?”
“More or less,” Emily said. Making protections was second nature to her now, but the new students would need time to cast even
one
such spell. “It’s generally better to dodge hexes hurled at you by another student. If you are transfigured—or frozen—you will find it a great deal harder to cast the counterspell.”
“Yeah,” Adana said.
Tiega shot her a smug look, then shifted uncomfortably. Emily reminded herself to get the notations for the spell she’d used but pressed on.
“It’s not easy to cast a spell on yourself,” she warned. “However, protections cast by someone else are almost always less reliable. They simply lack the affinity with your magic that one of your own spells would have.”
She paused. “How many of you can now cast basic spells reliably?”
Adana, Tiega, Lillian and Jasmine held up their hands. Dulcet and Julia looked unhappy, their gazes shifting down to the floor. Emily was surprised—she’d learned to cast fairly quickly—but Professor Lombardi had too many students in his class to give them all the individual attention they needed. She wondered if she should be working with them too, then dismissed the thought. Professor Lombardi would not be pleased if she accidentally taught them something they needed to unlearn.
She looked at Julia. “What happens when you try to cast?”
“It doesn’t always work,” Julia said. “I can make it work once, then the second time fails...”
“You push it too hard,” Adana said. For once, she sounded as if she was genuinely trying to help. “The magic slops everywhere, ruining the spellwork.”