The Zero Curse

by Christopher G. Nuttall

  And Dad probably slipped out from time to time too, I thought. It was difficult to imagine my parents being young. The portraits of Dad as a youngster might as well have belonged to my brother ... if I’d had a brother. I’d inherited more than just the nose from my father. I wonder if he knew Mum when they were both in school.

  I pushed the thought aside - there were things I didn't want to think about my parents - as we reached Jude’s. The iron gates loomed ominously over our heads, topped with wrought-iron features that looked - in the semi-darkness - to be monsters, perched on the metal. I tensed, despite myself. There were formidable defences all around the giant school. If they decided we were unfriendly, we were in real trouble ...

  A shadow materialised near the gatehouse. “Report to the Castellan in the ... ah, Lord Aguirre? I didn't expect you so late.”

  “We meant to be earlier, Skullion,” my father said. He sounded oddly amused. “Can you not report us to the Castellan?”

  “Of course, My Lord,” the man - Skullion - said. I’d heard of the scowling gatekeeper who only came out at night, but I’d never met him. “I’m sure you’re not up to any of your old tricks.”

  Dad laughed as Skullion opened a smaller door in the gatehouse, allowing us to walk into the grounds and up the drive. I glanced at Skullion as we passed, recoiling in shock. His face was half-cloaked in shadow, but what little I could see was hideously ugly. He looked as though someone had cursed him repeatedly until his face was a misshapen mess. I couldn't imagine a more intimidating figure on the gates.

  We walked up the driveway, feeling a mixture of fear and trepidation. Jude’s looked like a prison in the darkness, the shadows changing position whenever we weren't looking. The main doors were firmly closed, but a smaller door was open, a dark figure waiting inside. I told myself, firmly, that we were in no danger. Jude’s wasn't really a prison.

  It just feels like one, I thought.

  “Greetings, My Lord,” Castellan Wealden said.

  “Thank you,” Dad said.

  “Alana and Bella can go straight to their dorms,” Castellan Wealden added. “I need a word with Caitlyn before she goes to bed.”

  Dad nodded. “Here’s the cake,” he said, passing me the box. “Good luck, all of you.”

  He turned and walked back into the darkness. I wanted to call out to him, to ask him to take me straight home ... but that would have meant abandoning Rose. I couldn't do that, could I?

  “You two are dismissed,” the Castellan said, addressing my sisters. “Caitlyn, come with me.”

  I sighed. “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter Eight

  Jude’s hadn't changed at all, as far as I could tell.

  I walked behind Castellan Wealden, trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach. I wasn't in trouble. At least, I didn't think I was in trouble. But the empty corridors and dimmed lights couldn't help but feel ominous. It wasn't that late. The lowerclassmen would probably be in their dorms, even if they weren't in bed, but the upperclassmen should still be roaming the corridors.

  The Castellan led the way up a flight of stairs, down a long corridor lined with portraits of Old Boys and Girls who’d made good and into his office’s antechamber. His secretary sat behind her desk, eying me with an expression that suggested she’d smelt something disgusting. I didn't think she was one of my fans. Rumour had it that she was actually a golem the Castellan had brought to life, but no one dared to ask. Personally, I couldn't help wondering if she was related to Great Aunt Stregheria.

  Which would make her related to me, I thought, as we stepped through the inner door and into the Castellan’s private office. And I don’t want to be related to her.

  “Please, take a seat,” the Castellan said. His voice was calm, as always. He seemed to have aged ten years since I’d last seen him, although he was still quite young for his post. “I assume you ate before you came?”

  “We had dinner together,” I confirmed, as I placed my bag on the floor and took a chair. The question surprised me. None of the staff had invited me for dinner before - or any students, as far as I knew. They preferred to have as little contact with us as possible outside the classrooms. “I should be fine until breakfast.”

  The Castellan sat, steepling his fingers in front of his face as he rested his elbows on the desk. My father had taught me that that was a sign of confidence, although he’d gone on to warn me that some men - and women too - were careful to project confidence even when they felt utterly unsure of themselves. I rested my hands in my lap and gazed back, trying to look as respectful as possible. There was nothing to be gained from being defiant, particularly when I probably wasn't in trouble.

  “Your ... nature has caused us some problems,” the Castellan said. He nodded to a stack of papers on his desk. “The school board has had quite a lot to say about it.”

  I nodded, wordlessly. My father had told me that the school board was largely useless - they woke up long enough to confirm the status quo, had a good meal on expenses and then went back to sleep - but they would want to have a say when an important pupil managed to get themselves into trouble. Dad would have roused them from their slumber if I’d been expelled, after the potions incident ... he might have threatened to do just that, after Rose had been expelled. The Castellan would not have wanted to get into an argument with a united board. They could overrule him if they wished.

  And the Triad probably had a say too, I thought. But what did they say?

  “It is evident that you cannot handle a regular course of study,” the Castellan added, after a moment. “You cannot even hope to get through the practical exams, certainly not without help. On the other hand, you have a rare gift of your own and it is our responsibility to ensure that you have the opportunity to develop it.”

  He paused, clearly awaiting a response. But I didn't know what to say. I wanted to stay and I wanted to go. I wanted ... I wasn’t sure what I wanted. To be told that I couldn’t pass the exams, no matter how hard I worked ... it stung. And yet, I knew it was true. If I wasn't allowed to take Objects of Power into the testing chambers, I wouldn’t last more than five minutes.

  “We will be creating a customised course of study for you over the next few weeks,” the Castellan said, when it became apparent that I wasn't going to say anything. “You’ll stay in some of your regular classes, I think, and engage in private study for others. We’ll be rearranging the timetables so you’ll have the undivided attention of some of my staff. It will be difficult, at first, but they’re quite looking forward to working with you.”

  It was hard to keep from wincing. In one sense, I’d had special treatment all my life; in another, I hadn't had anything different from my peers. I might have had private tutors, but so had Isabella and the rest of High Society. Now ... I would be getting very special treatment, treatment that would not be offered to other magicians. Would having magic - and the ability to hex me at will - keep them from getting jealous?

  Probably not, I thought.

  “Your new timetable will be ready by the end of the week, I hope,” the Castellan informed me. “We held back on a couple of classes so you and your sisters could attend from the beginning. You’ll understand why when the classes begin.”

  I swallowed. “Thank you, sir.”

  “It is my duty,” the Castellan said, gravely. He smiled, then leaned forward. “And that leads to a less pleasant discussion.”

  He met my eyes. “You are unique,” he said. “That makes you valuable, at least until we locate someone else with your particular gifts. You will discover that a great many people will want to be your friend.”

  I didn't believe him, not really. People wanted to be Alana’s friend, not mine. I’d grown more and more isolated from the rest of my peers as my lack of actual magic became apparent. No one wanted to be friends with a failure, for fear the failure might rub off. Rose had been the first person to show me real friendship. And she didn't have anything to lose.

  “I advise you to b
e careful,” the Castellan said. His voice hardened. “And I order you not to leave the grounds without an escort. You are not to try to sneak over the walls and through the wards. I know trying to sneak out is an old tradition - I’ve done it myself - but you are not to indulge in it. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, sir,” I said. I’d never planned to sneak over the walls. A young student wouldn't have much of a chance of getting through the wards, not without help. Being trapped would be bad enough, but having the rest of the school laughing at them would be worse. “I won’t leave the school.”

  “Make sure of it,” the Castellan said, firmly. “You are too young to understand the dangers, Caitlyn. But rest assured, there are dangers out there.”

  I winced. Jude’s was neutral ground. Anyone who tried something on the school’s grounds would become an immediate pariah, uniting the rest of Shallot against them. But outside the grounds ... suddenly, all the horror stories about family feuds seemed very real. It had been a while since the last true conflict - Magus Court tried to keep them from getting out of control - but that could change at any time.

  “I understand,” I said. Perhaps that was why Dad hadn't ordered me to stay home. The school was safer. Even families that detested mine would assist us if our enemies violated neutral ground. “And ... I thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” the Castellan said. He nodded to the door. “You may go. I believe your friend is waiting for you.”

  I rose, curtseyed to him, picked up my bag and headed for the door. Outside, Rose was sitting on a bench. I ran forward and hugged her, tightly. Tears prickled in my eyes. I’d missed her, more than I’d known. She was the one person who’d been there for me when I’d been utterly alone.

  “Cat,” she said, as she hugged me back. “Welcome back.”

  The secretary cleared her throat. “Go back to the dorms,” she ordered, curtly. “You can catch up later.”

  I took Rose’s arm and pulled her out of the office. “I wanted to be back sooner,” I said, as I closed the door. “I’m sorry I didn't make it.”

  “It’s all right,” Rose said. “We’ve been quite busy.”

  I looked at her as we made our way down the corridor. Rose looked more ... confident than I remembered, her long red hair glimmering under the lantern light. Her pale skin showed hints of makeup, carefully applied ... her white nightgown fitted her perfectly, drawing attention to her face and bright green eyes. I frowned, puzzled. Rose had never used cosmetics - she’d never been able to afford them. How could she? And she had her hair down ...

  “Everyone has been surprisingly nice,” Rose said, breaking into my thoughts. “Well, except Isabella. She’s been very sullen.”

  “It's good to know that some things don’t change,” I said. I’d let Isabella stay in the dorm, after the duel. Perhaps that had been a mistake. “The others have been nice to you?”

  Rose’s hand brushed her cheek. “Henrietta helped me with my homework,” she said. “And Ayesha taught me how to use powder on my face.”

  I felt a hot flash of jealousy, mingled with concern. Ayesha was one of Isabella’s friends - or had been one of Isabella’s friends, before the duel. No one liked a loser, as I knew all too well ... and Isabella hadn't just lost. Her defeat had had repercussions that had echoed far beyond the school. I would have felt pity for her, if she hadn't been so horrible to me. Her father would have been utterly furious when he found out.

  “I hope you’re being careful,” I said. Rose had a right to other friends, didn’t she? It was good that she was finally making headway with the rest of the dorm. And yet ... part of me wanted to keep her all to myself. “What about the others?”

  “They’ve been nice,” Rose said. She frowned as we descended the stairs. “It’s been quite creepy, actually.”

  I had to laugh. “Maybe someone kidnapped our dormmates and replaced them with identical twins.”

  Rose giggled. “That would explain a lot, I suppose.”

  She elbowed me. “Akin was asking after you,” she added. “But I couldn’t tell him anything useful.”

  “He could just have written to me,” I said, although I didn't know if I’d get his letter. Dad would have had a few things to say, none of them pleasant, about receiving letters from our family’s great rivals. “How is he?”

  “Doing well, as far as I know,” Rose said. She rubbed her hand, gently. “He helped me out a lot in forging. I still haven’t got the hang of it.”

  “I’ve been doing it for years,” I reminded her. Maybe I should have felt jealous at the thought of Akin spending time with Rose, but it didn't bother me ... not really. He was a good TA. Magister Tallyman had taken us both on as his Teacher’s Assistants. “You’ll have a one-star of your own by the end of your second year.”

  Rose sighed. “If I last that long,” she cautioned. “I’m still behind in theoretical magic.”

  “I’ll help you with it,” I promised.

  I wondered, sourly, why one of our dormmates hadn't offered to help her learn that. Perhaps it was a worrying sign. A student who didn't have a good grasp of magical theory would never become an upperclassman. Rose could turn someone into a frog - I’d taught her that spell, even though I couldn't cast it myself - but she couldn't keep her victim that way without setting up the spell very carefully. And to do that she needed a working understanding of precisely what she was doing.

  They might be pretending to be nice to her, I thought, but they’re not actually being nice to her.

  “I’m doing better at potions, too,” Rose added. “But my potions are still not perfect.”

  “You just need practice,” I assured her. The basic potions we brewed in class were easy. I’d seen Mum sweating over a steaming cauldron where everything had to be utterly perfect or the potion would explode. “And complete precision at all times.”

  I sighed. Mum had drilled those habits into me from Day One. It had surprised me that Magistra Loanda hadn't been quite so obsessed with precision, although most of the basic potions were quite forgiving. She might think that a prospective potioneer would have the sense to read the recipe and instructions - and then prepare the ingredients - before they started brewing the potion. And someone who didn't would learn the hard way when they had to scramble to find something before it was too late.

  “I try,” Rose said. “I think it’s the magic that really makes it hard.”

  “We’ll see,” I said. I had a whole series of experiments I meant to carry out as soon as possible. Rose would help, of course. Perhaps I could talk Akin into helping too. That would really drive his sister up the wall. “You’re just starting out, again.”

  Rose shook her head in frustration. “I used to cook on the stove at home,” she said. “I should be able to brew a potion.”

  “I think it’s a little more complex,” I countered. Henry might insist that his cooking was as complicated as any potion, but I had my doubts. Roast beef didn’t care if you cooked it over the spit for eighty-nine minutes or ninety-one. “And you’re infusing magic into the brew.”

  We reached the bottom of the stairs and walked down a long corridor. I tensed, despite myself, as I heard footsteps echoing from the far end. A moment later, a pair of upperclassmen walked into view, glaring at us both suspiciously. Rose fished a pass out of her pocket and held it up before they could say a word. They inspected the pass, their eyes flickering over us, then passed it back and walked on. I allowed myself a sigh of relief. We might have permission to be out of the dorm, yet the upperclassmen would have been within their rights to question us. Sneaking out of the dorms was a bad thing, but only if you got caught.

  “That was close,” Rose said. “I wasn't sure if the pass covered you or not.”

  I had to smile. The Castellan would not have been pleased if two meddling upperclassmen had dragged me back to his office. I had permission to be outside the dorm, at least for as long as it took to walk back. But he would also have had to back up the upperclassmen’
s authority ... I wasn't sure precisely how he’d react. I suppose I should have been glad that I wasn't going to find out.

  “I’m sure it does,” I said, reassuringly. Sandy would have given Rose the pass, ensuring that she could meet me without being given lines or sent back to the dorm by a prowling upperclassman. But even that might not have been enough, if the upperclassman was in a bad mood. Rose had no family to protest if she was given a particularly harsh punishment. “How is Sandy, by the way?”

  “She seems to have mellowed a little, now that Isabella and you have settled your differences,” Rose said. “But I don’t know if that will change.”

  I shrugged. I hadn't spent a night in the dorm since the duel. Who knew how Isabella would react? I stopped long enough to open my bag and remove a couple of items, slipping them into my pockets, then closed the bag and slung it back over my shoulder. The earrings alone would give me some protection, if Isabella decided to hex me on sight, but I knew I’d need more. It was clear that there were limits to what the earrings could do.