Infinite Regress (40 page)

But I used the control interface
, she thought.
The wards must have thought I had authority to do whatever I liked
.

Caleb winked at her as he passed her his paper, covered with spell diagrams and notations outlining how the different components might go together. Emily took it and compared his work to the spellwork bobbling within the crystalline structures while he checked hers, then passed them both to Professor Lombardi. The professor checked their work, then carefully added the notations to his own growing diagram of the spell network. It was far more complex than Emily had realized.

“We’ll need to set up a workplace in the next room,” Professor Lombardi said. “This is going to take a great deal of work to unravel.”

Emily couldn’t disagree with him. The complexity in front of her nagged at her mind, reminding her of the time she’d been forced to code in basic HTML at school. One of the cheerleaders had tried to cheat by using a WYSIWYG editor, which had added plenty of extra HTML to her work and probably fooled her tutor for no more than a second, if that. It was hard to escape the feeling that much of the complexity was superfluous, but she knew better than to take it for granted. The more she looked at it, the more complex it seemed...

“This should be impossible,” Professor Ronald grumbled. “They’re too
small
.”

Emily looked at him. “Are they?”

Professor Lombardi looked up from his work. “Explain.”

“You can craft a pocket dimension large enough to store everything you could possibly want, then carry it around with you easily,” Emily reminded him. “You could live in a trunk, if you were willing to take the risk of accidentally destabilizing the dimension. Like...”

She broke off.
Whitehall
operated on the same principle... and now
Whitehall
had been destabilized. They might well never make it home, even if the dimension didn’t collapse completely. They’d run out of food, or drink, or breathable air... something would get them, even if they managed to cope with all the immediate problems. Hell, for all she knew, they might even start running out of
magic
. There was no ambient magic in the pocket dimension for the school to tap as a backup power source.

“Continue,” Professor Lombardi ordered.

“The crystals are larger on the inside, like Whitehall itself,” Emily said. She pointed at the nearest crystal. “All the
small
spells you see are actually huge, as big as they need to be, but they look small because they’re wrapped in a pocket dimension.”

“It sounds possible,” Professor Lombardi said. He scowled and stroked his chin as he studied the crystals. “But if that’s the case...”

He looked back at his notes. “Pulling all of this together into a coherent whole must have been near-impossible,” he said. “A ritual on a colossal scale.”

“Impossible,” Professor Ronald said. “Even casting a single spell through a ritual is difficult enough. Doing hundreds of thousands of spells would be incredibly hard.”

“Not if the pieces were assembled one by one,” Emily said. “The pocket dimension could be tuned to prevent contact, if contact between the two pieces threatened disaster.”

“Too much could go wrong,” Professor Ronald insisted. “Whoever did this...”

“... Had access to the secrets of the ancients,” Professor Locke said. Emily winced. She’d forgotten he was there. “He knew things about magic we can barely imagine.”

“That may be true,” Professor Lombardi said. “But our first priority is getting a link back to the outside world. Our search for the doors was unsuccessful. There may, however, be another way out.”

Emily glanced at him. “How?”

“We are not completely cut off from where we were,” Professor Lombardi said. “If we had been, young lady, the nexus point would have vanished, presumably left behind in the outside world. And we would probably have died in a split second as the entire school crashed in on itself.”

Emily stared at him. She could have kicked herself. Of
course
they still had a connection to the outside world! Unless, of course, they’d somehow taken the nexus point into the pocket dimension with them. It was possible, she supposed, although she thought it was unlikely at best and impossibly dangerous at worst. What little she’d read about nexus points in the various school libraries had insisted that moving or disabling one was either futile or terrifyingly destructive.

“Then there’s a way out,” she said. She looked at the spell diagram in front of them. “It’s merely a matter of finding a connection to the outside world and opening a door.”

“Or perhaps opening a portal,” Professor Lombardi said. “Our portals closed, of course, as did the chat parchments. It may take us some time to establish where we are, relative to the outside world, and then open a portal.”

Emily nodded, unable to keep the sense of exultation and relief bubbling up inside her. They had a chance to escape! It wouldn’t be easy, but perhaps Professor Locke had merely changed the settings rather than started a collapse. If altering one set of components changed a number of others...

“We need to stop to eat and drink something,” Professor Jayne said, practically. “The problem is not going to be solved overnight.”

“Good point,” Professor Lombardi said, reluctantly. “Emily, please share out the food.”

Emily bit down a comment on his expectations—she
was
the youngest person in the room by at least a year—and opened the bag, removing the flasks of Kava and pouring them into the mugs. Caleb came to help her, handing around sandwiches as the professors stepped back from the crystals and took their food. Emily held back a ham and cheese sandwich for herself, eating it as she sat against the wall and watched the spellwork dancing through the crystals. There was
definitely
something almost hypnotic about it.

“We’ll keep charting the spellwork,” Professor Lombardi said, after lunch. “Perhaps Emily and Caleb would like to explore the nearby chambers.”

Professor Locke started, then subsided when Professor Lombardi gave him a sharp look. Emily hesitated before rising to her feet and leading Caleb out of the room. The thrumming of the nexus point quieted once they were through the doors, surprising her. She’d grown so used to its presence that the
absence
of sound bothered her. Outside, she stepped into the library and reached out with her senses. There were no traces of either her spells or the protections surrounding the books.

“Gone,” she muttered.

“I can’t feel anything either,” Caleb said. He caught her hand and pulled her down a side corridor. “Emily, you do realize that the spellwork in that chamber is
very
like what we created?”

“Yeah,” Emily said. “And whoever created that chamber might also have created the Mimics.”

“Probably,” Caleb agreed. He frowned, thoughtfully. “How many Mimics do you think existed, at one point?”

Emily hesitated. There was no count of the number of Mimics sighted, not least because very few people happened to encounter one in its natural form and survive. How
could
there be a count? It was quite possible that there had only ever been
one
Mimic... and it had been destroyed at Whitehall, two years ago. And yet, she found it unlikely that a single Mimic could account for
all
of the sightings.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t even know why they were created.”

“Weapons,” Caleb said. “They’re highly resistant to spells, aren’t they?”

That
was quite plausible, Emily conceded, as they peered into an empty room. It had been nothing more than sheer chance that had tipped
her
off, when she’d barely survived her first encounter with the rogue spell. Who would think to cast a basically-harmless spell on the most dangerous creature known to exist? Even a full-grown dragon couldn’t match a Mimic for sheer lethality.

“Could be,” she said. She shook her head slowly. “If we don’t find a way out, Caleb, we could die here.”

“Death is inevitable,” Caleb said. “My father always said that it was more important to die well than live badly.”

He pulled her into a hug, his lips descending upon hers with a passion that surprised her. She held him tightly, feeling solid muscles enveloping her. For once, it wasn’t terrifying; she felt his kisses grow more and more passionate as he gently pushed her against the stone wall. His hands stroked her back, inching downwards...

Someone cleared his throat, loudly. Caleb let go of Emily and jumped backwards.

“Ahem,” Sergeant Miles said. He sounded amused, rather than angry, but Emily blushed anyway. They’d been caught making out when they should have been charting the tunnels, probably a shooting offense as far as Professor Locke was concerned. “This really isn’t the best time or place for
anything
.”

Emily lowered her eyes,
knowing
she was blushing bright red. Being caught was quite bad enough, even if they weren’t punished. Sergeant Miles would never let them forget it.

“As it happens, the Grandmaster wishes to see Emily,” Sergeant Miles continued. His voice hardened, slightly. “I suggest you take the opportunity to adjust your clothing, then follow me. Caleb can continue to work with Professor Lombardi until the day comes to an end.”

“Yes, Sergeant,” Caleb said.

“Very good,” Sergeant Miles said. He turned and headed to the door, tossing a final remark over his shoulder. “Emily, you’re with me.”

“S
OUL MAGIC IS PERHAPS THE LEAST-UNDERSTOOD
magic in the world,” Gordian said, as Sergeant Miles escorted Emily into the spellchamber. Frieda was already there, standing against one wall and looking nervous. “The potential dangers should not be underestimated.”

“I know,” Emily said.

She swallowed, hard. Her throat was dry. Her first experience with soul magic had left her drained, after reminding her of the oath she’d sworn to the fairies, but all she’d really been doing was studying the ebb and flow of her own magic. Here, Frieda would be looking straight into her soul. Emily would almost sooner have undressed in front of the entire school than allow someone to peer into her mind. But there was no choice.

“I will be providing the bridge,” Gordian added, as he placed a large crystal in the middle of the spellchamber. “Frieda does not have the talent to form a bridge for herself.”

“It will also provide a margin of safety for her,” Sergeant Miles added, before Emily could object. “If anything goes wrong, it will be easier for her to break free if there isn’t a direct connection between your soul and hers.”

“Correct,” Gordian said. “Take Emily into the next room and get her dressed. I need to have a long chat with Frieda.”

Emily frowned, but said nothing as Sergeant Miles escorted her into the next classroom, passed her a bundled-up robe and headed for the door. “Undress completely, then don the robe,” he ordered, without looking back. “I want you to wait here until you’re called.”

“Yes, Sergeant,” Emily said. She hadn’t changed for her
first
experience with soul magic, but then she’d
only
looked at herself. “Is this necessary?”

“Yes,” Sergeant Miles said, flatly. “Ideally, you would be naked.”

He walked out of the room and closed the door before Emily could muster a response. Being naked in front of Frieda would be bad enough, but being naked in front of Sergeant Miles and Gordian? Hastily, she unfolded the robe—it was more of a long white nightgown than a school robe—and then undressed, rubbing the dust from her hands as she placed her old clothes on the nearest table and pulled the white gown over her head. It felt like silk, she decided, as she glanced at herself in the mirror. Just wearing it made her feel naked.

Which must be the point
, she thought. She forced herself to sit down and meditate.
Symbolism is important
.

She tried hard to think about the spellware they’d seen in the control room—and the growing diagram Professor Lombardi had sketched from their work—but her thoughts kept returning to Frieda. What was Gordian
saying
to her? Was he warning her of the dangers of soul magic? Or suggesting that Frieda dig deeper into Emily’s mind?

Nearly half an hour later, Sergeant Miles knocked on the door. Emily rose, her bare feet cold against the stone floor, and opened the door. The sergeant looked her up and down—Emily felt her face redden as he nodded in cold approval—and then beckoned for her to follow him. Emily picked up her bundle of clothes and followed, feeling oddly reluctant to leave the room. She hadn’t felt so exposed since Alassa’s ill-fated hen night, when she’d worn something so thin that she might as well have been naked. At least Sergeant Miles didn’t seem interested in staring at her.

Gordian was still talking to Frieda as they entered the spellchamber, a privacy ward smothering their words and blurring their faces. Frieda had changed too, into a long white robe practically identical to Emily’s. Her twin pigtails had been undone, allowing her hair to flow down her back. It struck Emily, suddenly, that Frieda might be growing her hair out in the hopes of looking more like Emily herself. She’d grown her hair out over the years since she’d first come to Whitehall and never bothered to do more than trim it.

“Emily,” Gordian said. He dispelled the privacy ward with a wave of his hand. “This is your last chance to back out.”

Emily shook her head, refusing to hesitate in front of Frieda. Emily could tell she was nervous. She’d just be
looking
at Emily, without trying to actually
do
anything, yet there was still a chance for a nasty accident. Gordian had been right. Soul magic was
definitely
the least-understood magic in the world. A single mistake could do unlimited harm.

And blood magic is a form of soul magic
, she reminded herself.
No wonder it’s so hard to block
.

“Very well,” Gordian said. He didn’t sound pleased or displeased by her decision. “Then we will proceed.”