The Zero Curse

by Christopher G. Nuttall

  I’ll have to experiment with that later too, I thought. Rose would have to help. She could make up for my lack of magic. And perhaps I can even improve on the design.

  We passed another group of upperclassmen, escorted by a teacher I didn't recognise. They didn’t look remotely happy, something that suggested they’d been caught out of school and marched back to face the music. The City Guard must have caught them, I reasoned as we stepped to one side and tried not to be noticed. Normally, the Castellan and his staff would turn a blind eye to students who actually made it over the wall. I guessed they’d gotten into a fight in one of the bars and wound up being arrested.

  And they’d probably be happier staying in the cells, I thought. The Castellan would be furious. They’d dragged the school’s name through the mud. They’ll be in real trouble.

  Rose snorted. “That one in the middle,” she said. “He gave me lines for skipping down the corridor.”

  I snickered. I hadn't seen the one she meant - upperclassmen all looked the same to me - but I could believe it. Even the responsible ones - like Sandy - acted as though us firsties were so far beneath them we might as well be on the other side of the world. They certainly didn't remember when they were firsties. Five years was quite a long time for a teenager.

  “And now he’s in trouble,” I said mischievously, as we reached the door. “I wonder what will happen to him.”

  “A million lines, at least,” Rose said. “His hand will drop off.”

  I grinned. Sandy had sometimes threatened us with a million lines, but there was no reason to be excessive. A few hundred lines was more than enough to make my wrists ache.

  “And here we are,” I said. The door to Raven Dorm looked as forbidding as I remembered, a solid dark mass covered in protective runes. “Shall we go?”

  Rose nodded. I braced myself, then pushed open the door.

  Chapter Nine

  “Welcome home,” Sandy called.

  I felt my mouth drop open as my dormmates greeted me. I’d never been popular, even amongst those who disliked Isabella and her cronies. But now, everyone was coming at me, everyone was greeting me. I flinched back as Clarian Bolingbroke and Gayle Fitzwilliam hugged me, while Ayesha and Zeya McDonald shook my hand. It was hard, so hard, to believe that their greetings were sincere. Their hugs might be cover for a hex ...

  “It’s good to see you again,” Henrietta Maria said. She smiled at me, charmingly. “I’ve been looking forward to discussing magical theory with you.”

  Ayesha ran her hand over my hair. “What did you put in it? It feels wonderful and soft.”

  I pulled back. It had taken me years to convince my mother that I didn't need elaborate hairstyles. A ponytail or plaits were enough, I thought, even though I apparently needed a fancy braid for formal occasions. I’d never been comfortable with the maids doing my hair for me, either. I knew Lucy and the others wouldn't deliberately set out to hex me, but my sisters had left me wary of being touched.

  “Just shampoo,” I said. I’d never really cared that much for my hair, either. “It’s nothing special.”

  “You have to let me braid it,” Ayesha said. “I could do a much better job with hair like yours.” She jabbed a finger at Rose. “Her hair became more manageable after I gave her some proper shampoo and taught her a handful of grooming charms.”

  And you let her leave the dorm without tying her hair into a ponytail, I thought, sourly. It was late - and we were in school - but it was the sort of mistake that would have attracted some very astringent criticism from the old biddies of High Society. Or did you think no one would care about her?

  “You’re more than welcome to join us for study,” Amber Alidade said. “You can teach us how to forge and we’ll help you with potions and defence.”

  I shrugged, feeling a little overwhelmed. Sandy was sitting on her bed, brushing her hair and watching us with an unreadable expression on her face. Behind her, I could see Isabella pretending to be asleep. She was just too tense to be actually sleeping. Someone had moved her bed so she was right next to Sandy. I doubted Isabella appreciated it. Being so close to the older girl ensured she wouldn't get away with anything.

  “Perhaps you could join us tomorrow,” Amber pressed. “We’re going to be spending the evening watching netball ...”

  Sandy smiled, rather thinly. “I think Caitlyn will have to catch up with her classes,” she said, her voice cutting through the babble. “There’ll be time for netball later.”

  “There’s always time for netball,” Amber said. Her voice became sweet with malice. “Isn't there, Isabella?”

  Isabella rolled over and looked at me. The cold hatred in her eyes was terrifying. I knew the school’s honour code forbade her taking revenge, now she’d lost a formal duel, but it still worried me. I hadn’t just humiliated her. I’d knocked her right to the bottom of the dorm hierarchy. Her cronies - her former cronies - were above her now, peering down at their former leader with all the scorn and contempt they’d once heaped on me.

  She’ll recover, I thought. Isabella was still Isabella Rubén, still one of the heirs to a powerful family. Memories would fade as time went on, giving her a chance to start again. And then ... what will she do?

  Sandy cleared her throat. “It is time you all went to bed,” she said. She clapped her hands, loudly. “Shower, dress, bed, sleep. I’ll be dimming the lights in fifteen minutes.”

  I shot her a grateful look as I hurried to my bed. I had no sensitivity to magic at all, but I could feel Isabella’s cold gaze watching me. If looks could kill - and there were spells for that - I’d be disintegrated into ash. Rose followed me, her footsteps echoing through the room. Someone had moved her bed too, putting it next to mine. With a little work, we could combine our curtains and share a bigger space.

  “She’s been very sullen,” Rose whispered.

  I put my bag down on the floor, then hastily checked the drapes for unwanted surprises before I pulled them closed. There were none, not even a single solitary hex. I frowned, concerned that I was missing something. Isabella might be barred from hexing me - although I was starting to think she didn't intend to abide by the honour code - but someone else might have decided to conceal a hex on my bed. It was the traditional way to welcome someone back to the dorm.

  “I can tell,” I whispered back.

  I slipped one pair of spectacles from my pockets and perched them on my nose. The world changed colour at once, waves of light pulsing through the stone walls; blurs of light shimmering over the other beds. My dormmates had protected themselves thoroughly, Isabella most of all. My lips twitched. I had the sneaking feeling that even she would have to take several minutes to dismantle her protections before going to the toilet in the middle of the night. Sandy would probably have some problems getting Isabella up in the morning if she overslept.

  But my bed was dark and cold. There were no spells; no hexes to zap me into a frog if I touched them with my bare skin, no charms to keep my dormmates from disturbing me with their snores. Even Rose had more protections on her drapes than I did. I felt oddly sure I was missing something, but there was nothing. My earrings didn't even get warm as I sat on the comfortable bed. Someone had taken the time to make up the bed and hide a pair of pyjamas under the pillow - and place my trunk at the end of the bed - but not to prepare an unpleasant surprise for me. I couldn't help feeling uneasy as I stood and pulled the drapes into position. Perhaps I was missing something.

  “They were all pleased to see you,” Rose said, after casting a basic privacy spell. I’d taught her to use it at all times. It was very basic, but the kind of spells necessary to break through it were banned in the dorms. “Are you ... are you going to spend time with them?”

  It struck me, suddenly, that she was just as uncertain - perhaps even jealous - as myself. We’d been the dorm outcasts, the powerless girl of noble blood and common-born magician who’d been raised in the countryside, herding pigs instead of learning magic. But now ... now
I could find friends from my own caste, if I wished them. I’d wondered if Rose would abandon me, now she’d found other friends, but she must have felt the same thing too.

  “No,” I said. Netball was boring, at least partly because I couldn't play. I could run and throw the ball with the best of them, but the spells? I’d be hexed out of the game within seconds. “I don’t want to spend time with them.”

  I hesitated. “Did Ayesha say anything about wearing your hair down?”

  Rose frowned. “No,” she said. “Why ...?”

  “You’re not meant to wear your hair down until you’re old enough to marry,” I said. It was late at night, and no one was expected to have their hair braided in bed, but someone would probably have said something if they’d noticed Rose outside the dorm. “When you go outside, make sure you tie it up into a ponytail at the very least.”

  Rose’s cheeks reddened. “Thank you,” she said. She touched her hair. “Did she ... did she do that on purpose?”

  I shrugged. I doubted Rose’s family cared much for High Society’s rules. They didn't have the time to learn them, let alone the money to spend on proper clothes, etiquette lessons and everything else a youngster needed if they wanted to be seen as a respectable member of society. It was possible that Ayesha had set Rose up for some embarrassment, but equally possible that she simply hadn't considered it important. Or noticed that Rose was leaving the dorm.

  “I don’t know,” I said. I emptied my bag onto the bed, then picked up a focusing tool. It was a long wooden wand, decorated with carved runes. I’d thought it would be simple, when I’d decided on the gift, but it had been surprisingly tricky to make. “This is for you.”

  Rose took the wand and waved it in the air. Sparks flew from the tip, dancing around her fingertips. I watched, feeling an odd mixture of delight and envy. My gift made me practically unique - and my training would give me an edge, if I ever met another Zero - but I still didn't have magic. Rose would always have opportunities that I’d lack. But then, the reverse was also true.

  “It's wonderful,” she breathed.

  “It’s designed to help you modulate your magic,” I told her. “With a little fiddling, you can use it to make sure you only use precisely what you need.”

  Rose smiled. “Thank you.” Her face fell. “I didn't get you anything ...”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I ...”

  She gave me a hug, then settled back to watch as I opened my drawer. A punishment book - a new punishment book - sat there, waiting for me. I rolled my eyes as I picked it up, making sure that it was my name on the front cover. Someone had probably feared I’d leave the old book at home, out of sight and out of mind. They needn’t have worried. Dad had made sure I’d packed it, along with the spellbook and a number of other textbooks. I put it on top of my clothes, then opened my trunk and started to cram my possessions into the drawer. They didn’t seem to fit.

  “If you have two punishment books,” Rose asked, “which one is the real one?”

  “Good question,” I said. There was a complex linking charm binding my book to a master record, but I wasn't sure which one was the real one. Perhaps the punishments would appear in both books. Or perhaps the charm would get confused, rendering both books invalid. I’d have to experiment to find out. “If I stick my tongue out at Sandy, do you think she’d give me a hundred lines?”

  “I don’t know,” Rose said. “She’s been acting weird lately.”

  “Everyone has been acting weird since I returned,” I muttered. I put the cake box aside - I’d share it later, outside the dorm - and then reached for my towel. “What’s got into them?”

  The weirdness only grew stronger as we walked to the shower. I’d expected a hex or two aimed at me - I’d kept the earrings on, just to be sure - but nothing happened. Instead, my dormmates smiled and waved as though we were the best of friends. I was almost grateful for Isabella’s scowls and glares. At least that was reassuringly normal.

  Maybe they’re just glad Isabella got knocked down a peg or two, I thought. The showers didn't look to have changed much, if at all. The only real difference was the addition of a number of bottles of expensive shampoo. Or maybe they’re just trying to lure me into a false sense of security.

  I washed, changed into my pyjamas and walked back to the bed. Sandy was already dimming the lights, marching up and down the room and glaring at everyone who wasn't moving fast enough to suit her. Most of the students were pulling their drapes closed, trying to pretend to be asleep. I doubted Sandy was fooled, but she wouldn't say anything as long as they weren’t blatantly defying her. A student who didn't get enough sleep would regret it the following day.

  “Cat,” Sandy said. She nodded to Rose, silently ordering her to her bed. Rose complied without argument. “A word with you, if you please.”

  I didn't please, but I didn't have a choice. Sandy led me to the front of the dorm, past a set of closed drapes. I hoped that Isabella was already asleep, instead of plotting revenge. The Objects of Power would give me some protection, but I was grimly aware that they didn't make me invincible. I’d grown up on too many stories of weapons that were supposed to do just that, but turned out to be flawed in some way.

  “I had a long talk with Isabella, after the duel,” Sandy said, once we were standing by her bed. She didn’t bother to cast a ward to keep our conversation private. “I told her that I expected her to behave herself - and that I would take steps if she didn’t.”

  I swallowed. Sandy hadn’t intervened between Isabella and myself until matters had really started to get out of hand. On one hand, she wanted a quiet life; on the other, we were both from powerful families and alienating us - even just one of us - might have been bad for her future. And yet ... I couldn't help wondering if I would have discovered the truth, if Sandy had squashed Isabella on the first day. I might not have. And if I hadn't, I would merely have been condemned to endlessly repeating the first year again and again, unable to pass the exams that would let me move into the second year.

  “I expect the same from you,” Sandy added, after a moment. “You won - well done. Now you and she can move on, without this petty little feud. I will not be pleased if you rub her nose in her defeat, nor will I be happy if she finds a new way to get at you. Do not defy me on this.”

  “She started it,” I said. I knew it was childish, but I couldn’t help myself. “I didn't want a rival ...”

  “I’m sure she’s pleased to hear it,” Sandy said, sardonically. Having a rival to match yourself against was another school tradition, but it generally only applied to upperclassmen. Besides, I’d always thought it was stupid. Why would I waste time challenging a rival? “And I’m sure you’re pleased to hear that she doesn't want a rival either.”

  “Oh, goody,” I said.

  Sandy gave me a sharp look. “I don’t care which one of you started it,” she said. Her tone dared me to disagree. “And I don’t care that your families have been feuding for the last umpteen billion years or whatever. You’ll learn to tolerate each other, or I’ll chain you together and put you to work scrubbing the floor.”

  “A fate worse than death,” I said.

  “How amusing,” Sandy said, archly. Her lips curved into a humourless smile. “Isabella said the very same thing.”

  I smiled back, although it wasn't particularly funny. Rose and I had been forced to scrub floors after the potions incident, a task I’d rapidly come to detest. Doing it with Isabella would be far - far - worse. We’d keep exchanging barbs and insults until one of us snapped and tried to hurt the other. And then we’d both get in trouble for not cleaning the floor. I wasn't sure what was worse than being chained to my worst enemy and forced to cooperate, but I didn't want to find out.

  “Now, go to bed and sleep,” Sandy ordered. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  I started to turn, then stopped myself. “Sandy ... why is everyone acting so weird?”

  Sandy gave me a look that suggested sh
e thought I was being stupid. “They’re trying to get on your good side,” she said, in a tone that confirmed she thought I was being stupid. “And they’re trying to do it by buttering you up.”

  She jabbed a finger at my bed. “Sleep.”

  I walked back to my bed, my head spinning. They were trying to get on my good side? I’d never had that before, not after it was clear I didn't have much magic. Everyone had expected Alana to inherit the family name, title and wealth. They still did, I suspected. I might have a talent of my own, but I still lacked magic. And yet ... I couldn’t help feeling uneasy as I pulled the drapes closed. I’d grown used to people treating me as though I didn’t exist. Now ...

  It might be fun, part of me thought. What would Alana say if you had more friends and clients than her?

  It might be dangerous, another part countered.