Necropolis (Royal Sorceress Book 3) (4 page)

“Stay here,” she ordered.

Bracing herself, she pushed forward, closing her eyes and concentrating her mind. The heat grew even hotter, but it didn’t burn her flesh. Smirking to herself, she kept walking forward, feeling the heat fading away to nothingness. An illusion, she told herself, as she opened her eyes. Someone with more power than skill had created a small fire and an illusion of a very large one. There was almost no real damage at all.

Outside, she heard shouting from the firemen, none of whom seemed to be able to believe their eyes. Gwen felt a moment of sympathy for them – they’d probably be blamed for soaking the house in their struggle against the illusory fire, once the illusion stopped affecting them too – then she stepped forward, into the schoolroom.

Inside, she was greeted by a scene from hell.

Chapter Three

T
he schoolroom itself wasn’t too different from the study Gwen had used when she’d been a child, working her way through an endless succession of tutors. There was a pair of desks, a larger desk for the teacher and a blackboard, which had been badly marred by the fire. A shattered cane lay on the floor, smashed into a dozen pieces. One cupboard lay smashed open, revealing dried food and bottled water. She looked over towards the shattered window and winced, inwardly, as she saw the blood and the mangled remains of Madame Constant’s arm. Her body had been blown right out of the window.

Should have asked where they found the body, stupid
, Gwen told herself, as she searched the room quickly and efficiently. There was no sign of where the children – both children – had gone, but someone could easily have taken a small amount of dried food from one cupboard and a bottle of water from another. It suggested that there had been no preplanning before they’d fled, Gwen noted, although it was impossible to say for sure. The whole affair might have been carefully planned in advance.

Pushing the thought aside, she looked over towards the other door and realised that it led to a second room. Peeking through, she discovered the mangled remains of a Grand Piano – one that had probably cost more than Gwen made in a year – lying on the floor, ripped to pieces. It didn’t look as though it had been blasted by a Blazer, something that worried Gwen more than she cared to admit. If Susan was displaying more than one kind of magic, it suggested she was a Master Magician, just like Gwen. Finding another Master would be a relief, but it would also be a major problem. The elements within the Royal Sorcerers Corps that hated the idea of
Gwen
leading them would have a collective fit when they realised that her successor would also be female.

And not a very patient one
, she thought, remembering her own music lessons.
Those
hadn’t lasted very long. She simply hadn’t had the patience to learn to play anything, not even the penny whistle Dave had given her as a joke. But then, the whistle hadn’t lasted any longer than the short time it had taken Lady Mary to realise she had it and confiscate it, despite their joint complaints. Anyone would have thought she considered whistle-playing undignified for a young lady.

Gwen smiled at the thought, then walked out of the door and onto the grass. Ahead of her, there was a forest. It was nowhere near deep and dark enough to hide someone indefinitely, Gwen noted, but a child might not realise that. Gwen felt a moment of envy – she would have loved to run through the woods as a little girl – and kept walking until she was at the very edge of the forest. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on her magic, trying to feel out where the children might be hiding. But there was so much life running through the woods that it was impossible to detect them ... if, of course, they hadn’t run further. Gwen silently prayed they hadn’t as she opened her eyes and walked into the woods. A great many things could happen to children in the countryside, few of them good.

She smiled again, feeling an odd sense of relaxation as she strode deeper and deeper into the small forest. Birds sang in the trees overhead, reminding her just how much she enjoyed her few excursions out of London. A sudden bitter pang tore at her heart as she recalled that
Olivia
had loved those excursions too, the chance to be alone together. But Gwen’s work didn’t allow her much time to merely enjoy herself.

I’ll find you
, she promised silently.
And whoever took you will not live to regret it
.

She paused as she heard the sounds of birds flapping away from a distant corner of the forest. Something had scared them ... and birds in the countryside were smart enough to be afraid of humans. Hunting was a common pastime, even for the poorest in the land; a bird could feed a family if it was caught in a trap or even shot down with a shotgun. She turned and walked towards the sound, not bothering to conceal her approach. If the children tried to run, she could catch them with her magic. And besides, they would probably react better if she was clearly not trying to sneak up on them.

There was a sudden sound ahead of her, followed by a shape darting from a hiding place and running away from her. Gwen reached out with her magic and caught at the figure, then felt a sudden surge of resistance; frighteningly powerful, but utterly unfocused. Susan had no real training, Gwen noted, as she lost her grip on the girl. And then a burst of magic flashed out of a bush and over Gwen’s head. She ducked, almost a moment too late, as part of the mystery unravelled itself in front of her. There were two children and both of them had magic.

“Enough,” she called, putting as much command into her tone as she could. Her mother had taught her how to issue commands to children and inferiors, after all, warning the young Gwen never to even
hint
that she thought they might not obey. Weakness invited challenges and attacks. “We need to talk.”

There was another burst of magic, stronger this time. Gwen caught it on her own magic and watched as the flash of light broke up harmlessly. She gritted her teeth, then pushed as much Charm into her voice as she could. If her growing suspicions were correct, neither of the girls would have any real defence against blunt Charm.

“Come here,” she ordered, feeling the magic rippling through the air. “Now.”

There was a long pause, then two young girls appeared from the undergrowth, staggering towards her as if they were trying to resist her command. One of them was wearing a fine dress that looked as though it had seen better days; it was muddy, torn and ripped ... and probably completely beyond repair. Gwen shuddered to think of what Lady Mary would have said if she’d ruined a dress that cost upwards of twenty pounds. She looked enough like Lady Fanny that Gwen had no hesitation in placing her as Susan Willingham.

The other wore a tattered dress that seemed to have survived the brief excursion to the forest better than Susan’s. She was smaller and thinner, with a nasty scar on her cheek that looked to have been made recently, perhaps within the last few hours. Her dark face and plainly braided hair suggested a poorer origin than Susan, although it was clear by the way the two girls clung together that they were definitely friends. Gwen felt a cold sensation in her chest as she worked out the remainder of the story, recalling the damage she’d seen in the schoolroom.

“You must be Jo,” Gwen said, trying to appear as unthreatening as possible. Inspector Lestrade’s methods for interrogating suspects might work on burly men, but they would probably reduce young children to tears. “My name is Gwen. I’m the Royal Sorceress.”

Susan’s eyes went wide. “You’re
her
?”

Gwen smiled, then levitated herself a few inches above the ground. “Yes,” she said, simply.

Susan’s face went very dark. “I’m not going back,” she said. Raw sparks of magic flickered around her face, each one glittering with deadly energy. “I won’t go back.”

“Probably not,” Gwen said. She sat down on the ground, heedless of the mud staining the seat of her trousers, then motioned for the girls to sit down too. “But I do need to know what happened today.”

Jo looked alarmed. “It was my fault,” she said, softly. “Everything was my fault.”

“No it wasn’t,” Susan snapped. She caught Jo’s hand and held it, tightly. “It was the crone’s fault.”

Gwen smiled. “Madame Constant?”

“Yeah,” Susan said, rebelliously. She would probably have been told off for slurring her words like that, if she’d been in the schoolroom. “It was all her fault.”

“Then tell me what happened,” Gwen urged. “Start from the beginning, then go on until the end.”

The two girls exchanged helpless glances, then Susan started to talk. “We were supposed to learn together,” she said. “Jo was meant to learn too. But every time I made a mistake, the crone punished Jo. Look at her face.”

Gwen gritted her teeth. A whipping boy ... girl, in this case. She’d read about them in books, but she’d never heard of anyone actually trying in real life. An aristocratic boy would be given a friend from the poorest level of society, someone who could be whipped if the young aristocrat acted badly. In theory, the aristocrat would be overcome with guilt at watching his friend get punished and stop acting badly. Gwen suspected that, based on some of the more entitled aristocratic magicians she had to deal with as Royal Sorceress, the noble youth would as likely watch and laugh as his friend suffered. Not everyone was moved by someone else’s pain, particularly those who had never been taught basic empathy in the first place.

“Jo could make things move,” Susan said. “I used to love watching her make our dolls dance, but when the crone found out she struck her across the face. And then I ... I ...”

Her voice trailed away. Susan and Jo might have come from very different places in society, but their shared magic – even if they weren’t completely aware of it – would have brought them together. Gwen felt another sudden stab of envy, wishing she’d had a magical friend, even if she’d only been a serving girl. But she’d never met another magician until Master Thomas strode into her life and recruited her to serve as his successor.

“Your magic burst out,” Gwen said, softly. “What happened?”

“There was fire everywhere,” Susan said. “The crone fell backwards, her shoulder was burning; Jo threw her out the window, but the flames kept spreading. And we ran ...”

“You can’t run any longer,” Gwen said. She stood up, using magic to sweep the mud off her trousers. “But I don’t think you will be staying here either.”

Susan stepped in front of Jo protectively. “I won’t let you take her to jail,” she said, with an icy firmness that reminded Gwen of several much older girls. “I
won’t
!”

Gwen was tempted to point out that it had been
Susan
who’d killed Madame Constant, but held her tongue. Susan had been conditioned to believe that her friend would pay the price for her misdeeds; even now, even after someone had died, she still clung to the fear of her friend being punished. Perhaps the whole concept of the whipping girl worked after all ... Gwen considered it briefly, then shook her head. It was cruel, heartless and thoroughly unpleasant.

“She won’t go to jail,” Gwen assured her. In crimes involving magic, it was
her
judgement that was final. Besides, it was an established point of law that accidental magic, unleashed when the magician first came into his or her powers, wasn’t a criminal offence. “But neither of you can stay here. You’ll both come back with me to Cavendish Hall.”

Susan’s eyes lit up. “You’ll teach me how to use magic?”

“Someone definitely will,” Gwen said. The British Empire needed all the magic-users it could get, even if they happened to be born female. Besides, Susan was clearly powerful if she’d managed to create such a realistic illusion and leave it in place for several hours. “And you won’t have to worry about Madame Constant ever again.”

She watched as the two girls shared a long hug, knowing that one day they would realise that they’d actually killed someone, no matter how unpleasant she’d been. Gwen herself hadn’t handled the knowledge very well, other magicians had merely taken it in their stride or had a few rough nights before they came to terms with the simple fact that they’d ended a person’s life. It wouldn’t be easy for them at Cavendish Hall – they’d be younger than most of the students there – but it was the best place for them. Besides, it would be a good chance for them to catch up on their education in other matters too.

“Come on,” she said. “The carriage is waiting.”

The two girls followed her out of the forest, muttering excitedly to one another. Gwen smiled, remembering her own enthusiasm when she’d finally been allowed to attend Cavendish Hall, then schooled her face into a blank expression when she saw Lady Elizabeth striding across the lawn towards them. Her face was set in grim lines that Gwen recognised from her own mother, the absolute certainty that she was in the right combined with a reluctance to listen to anyone else. Gwen gritted her teeth in cold determination, then stepped forward. There was no point in handing someone like Lady Elizabeth the chance to get their word in first.

“I will be taking the girls back with me to Cavendish Hall,” she said, shortly. “Susan and Jo will each be allowed to bring one bag of clothing and a handful of treasured possessions. Any ... paperwork relating to Jo will be transferred to me and handled by my lawyers. There will be time, later on, for Lady Fanny to visit her daughter, but for the moment it is vitally important that she finds her feet at Cavendish Hall.”

Lady Elizabeth’s mouth fell open. No sounds emerged.

“Go get a bag of clothing each,” Gwen ordered the girls. She waited for them to run past Lady Elizabeth and into the manor, then looked back at Lady Elizabeth. “Madame Constant’s body is to be placed in a sealed coffin and shipped to Cavendish Hall for disposal, along with any personal possessions she might have. I shall expect to receive them within the next two days.”

“But ...” Lady Elizabeth finally managed to stammer.

Gwen gave her a completely sweet, completely fake smile. “You will say nothing about the affair here to anyone,” she continued. Lady Elizabeth could probably be relied upon to cover the whole affair up, but it was well to make sure of it. “The firemen will be dismissed, with enough money to ensure they hold their tongues. I do not want a single
word
to get into the broadsheets. Do you understand me?”