Schooled in Magic (18 page)

“I’m not a Child of Destiny,” Emily said, finally. “I ... ”

But she couldn’t explain the truth.

Aloha just looked at her. “I think that you’re not going to embarrass me on the field. If I have to kick you to keep you going, I
will
kick you to keep you going. Do you understand me?”

“No,” Emily said. “Why do you care if I succeed or not?”

Her roommate stared at her. “You really don’t know?”

Emily shook her head.

“In Martial Magic,” Aloha said, “the class is divided up into squads. The squads either pass or fail as a group. If too many squads fail, the entire class fails. You know next to nothing about magic and yet
my
grade will be dependent upon yours!”

Emily felt a cold chill wafting through her body. “You’d better start learning
fast
,” Aloha snapped. She produced a book from her cupboard and tossed it at Emily, who caught it awkwardly. “That’s the basic textbook for the pre-class studies and trials. I know it all by heart. And if you think that you’re going to pass the class ...”

“I didn’t ask to be put into this class,” Emily protested.

“... You’ll have to know it all too,” Aloha continued, ignoring her. “And I swear to you, upon my mother’s life, that if you ruin this class for me I will turn you into a piece of underwear and leave you out for the boys to wear.”

The threat would have been laughable–or disgusting–if it hadn’t been deadly serious.

Emily watched as Aloha stormed out, leaving Emily alone in the room. She stared down at the book she’d been given, cursing both Void and Shadye in her mind. What had they gotten her into now?

P
ROFESSOR THANDE LOOKED LIKE A MAD
scientist.

Or so Emily thought, the moment she walked into his large classroom. He was a tall lanky man with unkempt hair and a slightly manic grin, reminding her of David Tennant, the actor who had played the Tenth Doctor from
Doctor Who
. Thande was leaning over a cauldron perched on top of something that looked like a Bunsen Burner, dropping a handful of ingredients into the liquid. It smelled very faintly of spice, and boiling alcohol.

Unlike the other tutors she’d seen, Professor Thande wore a shirt and trousers instead of robes, as well as a belt that carried several different tools for his work. When he turned slightly to study his class, Emily saw a nasty burn mark on his cheek. A second accident–at least, she hoped that it had been an accident - seemed to have left his left hand badly scarred. He wasn’t the first teacher she’d seen with a damaged hand, she recalled. It seemed to be a common magical injury.

“Be seated,” Thande said, as he returned his attention to the boiling caldron in front of him. “I won’t be a minute.”

Emily sat down at one of the desks and forced herself to compose her mind. She’d been accosted by five different older pupils on the way to Alchemy Class, all of whom shared Aloha’s fears about what a first-year student would do to their shared grade in Martial Magic and had even more inventive threats for what would happen if she let the class down. Emily had seriously considered going to Mistress Irene to ask to be removed from the class, then her natural stubbornness had kicked in. Now, she was determined to do her very best.

Besides, part of her mind whispered, Shadye had marked her for death. Martial Magic might provide her with the knowledge she needed to live a full life rather than remain a prisoner at Whitehall for the rest of her life.

The desk itself was odd, rather like one from an old-time school - a box on legs. When she opened the lid, she saw a dozen cloth bags, each one smelling of something different. Sniffing one of them made her head spin and she put it down quickly, trying to resist the urge to take tight hold of her desk and never let go. The sensation faded quickly, but the lesson wasn’t lost on her. Sniffing something when she didn’t know what it was could be dangerous.

Looking around the classroom, she saw stained and blackened walls, the result–she assumed - of previous experiments. Thande didn’t look as if he was inclined to follow the scientific method. Instead, he looked as if he’d be happy to mix two liquids together and strike a match, just to see what would happen. The walls were completely bare, apart from the one ahead of her, where Thande had placed a green-gold object that looked oddly familiar. She couldn’t remember where she’d seen something like it, but she was confident that she had. The thought nagged at her as the classroom slowly filled up with her fellow pupils, until it finally clicked. She was looking at a single dragon scale.

Thande moved to the front of the classroom and clapped his hands together for attention. “I am Professor Thande, Head of Alchemy. You’re here for Basic Alchemy, a required class for studying Advanced Alchemy, followed by various specialist departments of Alchemy. Are all those facts correct?”

Emily nodded automatically. There was no sign of Alassa in this class, which suggested that she’d managed to pass it - or that she’d never taken it at all. Emily had expected all students to take the same classes at first, but chatting to the handful of students who would talk to her had confirmed that there were hundreds of different paths through Whitehall. Only a handful of the classes were truly mandatory for all of the students. Unfortunately for Alassa, that included Basic Charms.

“Good,” Thande said. He clapped his hands together again. “For those of you who haven’t bothered to read your textbooks–a fairly common problem, it seems–you will find that you are lacking in basic knowledge. Can anyone tell me the fundamental difference between Alchemy and Charms?”

There was a pause, and then one of the boys raised his hand. “Alchemy involves brewing things, sir?”

“A very incomplete answer–and nowhere near accurate enough,” Thande said briskly. He didn’t seem angry, more like he was amused. “Would anyone care to take another guess?”

A girl with skin so white that she had to be an albino raised her hand. “Alchemy involves using natural magic, sir, and Charms involves using your own magic?”

“Much better,” Thande said, approvingly. He rubbed his hands together as he started to lecture. “You are aware, of course, that
mana
is everywhere in the world. High levels of
mana
cause unpredictable changes in plants, animals and even the very air itself. What that means, for those of us who are ruthlessly practical, is that
mana
creates magical qualities in natural material.”

He picked up a glass decanter from his table and held it up in front of him. “Eye of newt,” he said, as he rotated it so that they could see the eyes. Emily felt sick and, judging from the sounds behind her, she wasn’t the only one. “What magical uses do these eyes have for the Alchemist?”

There was another pause, broken by the albino girl. “They help you to see, sir?”

“I’m afraid not,” Thande said. His gaze swept the room. “The
mana
in eye of newt is useless for any practical purpose, at least as far as we have been able to determine. Perhaps one of you will become an Alchemy Researcher and discover a use, but right now eyes of newt are useless. Completely useless, unless you want to separate a qualified alchemist from someone who merely brags of his own skills.”

He put the decanter down and picked up a small glass jar. This one, as far as Emily could tell, held hair. “Shaved hamster hair,” Thande informed them. The sounds of disgust grew louder. “And what sort of magical powers do they possess?”

This time, no one dared answer. “In their natural form, they are poisonous,” Thande said, answering his own question. “But when boiled in water for seventeen hours and combined with a drop of the patient’s blood, they provide an excellent energy boost for a magician who has pushed himself to the limit.”

Emily stared at him. What sort of person would shave a hamster and then boil the poor creature’s hair for hours, just to see what would happen? Coming to think of it, how had they even
known
that
something
would happen? Her mind spun, making her wish that she’d borrowed a book on Alchemy from the library as well as the spellbooks for self-defense and practical jokes.

No
wonder
science was so badly retarded in this world!

“Those of you who are familiar with Basic Charms will know that spells can mutate if they are not defined perfectly,” Thande continued. “The magic in the natural world
has
mutated, twisted in ways that are difficult to imagine. You may consider Alchemy to be partly about mixing different spells together, but that tends to limit your imagination. Which”–he held up his scarred hand–“can be no bad thing.”

His voice sharpened. “There are rules for learning Alchemy and I expect them to be followed to the letter. Those of you who break these rules will be used as test subjects for my experiments, experiments that have been known to get out of control and”–he showed them his hand again–“cause unexpected injury. Anyone who continues to mess around after that clearly has the right attitude to become a Master Alchemist, but you can do your research on top of a mountain or in the middle of a desert. It will be safer for everyone else.

“First rule: learn everything you can about Alchemy.” He pointed a scarred finger at Emily. “What happens if you mix cornflower with icing sugar and blow it into a candle?”

Emily hesitated. “I don’t know,” she admitted finally.

“A very good answer,” Thande said. “Should you ever be in doubt about what will happen when you carry out an experiment, try and look up the answer first. Which, by the way, is a small explosion.” He moved his finger to another boy. “What happens if you mix cat and dog hair together in water and then drink it?”

The boy looked around, desperately. “You turn someone into a cat or a dog?”

“Wrong,” Thande said. His face darkened. “You make them bark and meow helplessly for several minutes. And, incidentally, it doesn’t work if you
only
use hair from one animal.”

He looked up, glancing from student to student. “Ignorance can kill. If you are in doubt about anything, look it up or ask a trained alchemist.

“Second rule:
always
carry out your experiments behind wards to provide safety. Yes, there are any number of alchemists who lower the wards for more contact with the experiments–and most of them come to regret it, sooner or later. You are all students and while you are studying here you
will
keep experimental wards up at all times.

“In addition to that, you will also confine any experimentation to the warded alchemy rooms. Anyone caught practicing alchemy elsewhere in Whitehall will be severely punished.

“Third rule:
always
cast a testing charm before drinking anything you have produced for yourself. A single mistake can kill you outright. If you’re not confident with the charm, ask one of your classmates to cast it for you. Refusing to cast the charm for one of your fellows, if asked, will also result in severe punishment.”

He paused for a moment to allow that to sink in, then continued. “Also, when drinking other potions, it’s a good idea to cast the charm anyway. Some of the newer potion recipes are still producing odd effects if left alone too long. A charm will ensure that it won’t kill you outright.

Thande gave them all a commanding stare. “If you are in doubt, ask me or another alchemist. I will not punish anyone for making mistakes, or asking questions, merely for placing their own lives–or that of others–in danger.

“Fourth rule: check everything. Alchemy is, in its own way, as precise as anything you might learn in Charms. Now, open your desks.”

Emily obeyed, looking down at the small collection of ingredients.

“You will see a seal on each of the bags,” Thande said. “That seal belongs to Elmer, one of the apothecaries who works under me. Apothecaries produce materials for alchemists and, once they verify that they are whatever they claim to be, they bag them up and place their seal on them. The seal will vanish if something else is left in the bag for an unwary alchemist, so make sure that it is still there every time you take something from the bag. If the seal vanishes, take the bag to the disposal chamber and throw it out, along with the entire remaining contents. You’re not ready to experiment with materials that may be compromised.

“If you don’t use material from an apothecary, check everything; where it comes from, how it was harvested, how it was stored ... everything. A single mistake can prove fatal.” He smiled, thinly. “An apothecary who provides bad materials can be executed, if the buyer doesn’t kill him first. Murdering someone who conned an alchemist is perfectly legal throughout the Allied Lands.”

Thande snorted. “Oh, and
always
use natural materials. If you transfigure grass into mandrake root, just because you cannot afford mandrake, the transfigured grass will still have a magical signature that will throw a stone into the alchemical process. That’s a good way to get yourself killed if you’re not careful.

“Finally: always–and I mean
always
–write down what you plan to do beforehand. There are notebooks in your desks; write down the planned experiment and stick to it. While carrying out the experiment, write down what happens; once the experiment is complete, write down what happened afterwards. Do
not
leave anything out, or someone trying to reproduce your experiment might run into trouble. Far too many alchemical developments have been discovered, lost and then had to be rediscovered because some damned fool of an alchemist didn’t write down what he was doing.”