The Zero Curse

by Christopher G. Nuttall

  “I do ... ah ... know where everything is,” Magister Von Rupert said, as he sat down at his desk. It was covered with papers too, including a class schedule that was dated five years ago. I wondered if he was still trying to teach to it. “Please don’t move any of the boxes.”

  I looked at the pile of boxes - some taller than I was - and shuddered. I’d always liked the idea of digging through archives, but I had my limits. Besides, some of the really old archives had nasty protections. Dad had told me that he’d helped excavate one, back before I’d been born. He’d come far too close to death before the ancient chamber had finally been cleared.

  “I won’t, sir,” I promised.

  “Very good,” Magister Von Rupert said. “I ... ah ... I was wondering what you would make of this.”

  He picked up a roll of paper and held it out to me. I took it carefully, looking around for an empty table. There was none, not within view. If there was one buried under the boxes and files ... I pushed the thought aside as I carefully unrolled the paper and examined the runic diagram. It looked like a ward network, but I’d never seen anything so complex in my life.

  “It is very detailed,” I muttered. “What is it?”

  “The school’s defences,” Magister Von Rupert said. “Or some of them, at least.”

  I looked down at the diagram. “Are they really this complex?”

  Magister Von Rupert looked surprised. “The school just kept expanding,” he said. “Ah ... we really should consider moving to purpose-built premises, but ... ah ... no one wants to pay for it.”

  I struggled to recall the theory I’d had drilled into my head over the last six years. Warding an entire house was a tricky piece of work, all the more so if the building grew bigger over the years. Aguirre Hall was so big precisely because we might need the space, one day, without having to worry about rebuilding the ward network from scratch. I’d heard of buildings so old that the wards had practically taken on a life of their own. I wasn't sure if Aguirre Hall was old enough for that, but only a fool would challenge the master of the wards on his territory. Aguirre Hall was our fortress as well as our home and the centre of our power.

  “It would have to be a very big building,” I said, after a moment. Aguirre Hall was huge, but I doubted we could fit everyone from school into our walls. “Sir ... this network is a mess.”

  “It was put together ... ah ... over many years,” Magister Von Rupert informed me. “I don’t believe ... ah ... that any of the original designers set out to make it that complex, but it grew with the school. There are parts of the school that are very well protected indeed and other parts with very limited coverage.”

  I made a face. “Can’t someone find a weak point and break into the school?”

  “The outer wards are solid,” Magister Von Rupert said. “But fixing the problems throughout the inner network may take years.”

  “Oh,” I said. I looked down at the diagram for a long moment. “Why are you showing me this?”

  “Because some of the really old parts of the building are based on Objects of Power,” Magister Von Rupert said. “They may need to be replaced.”

  That caught my attention. No wonder successive administrations hadn't dared to grasp the nettle. A mistake, perhaps something as simple as moving the Object of Power, might cause part - or all - of the network to collapse. They’d built layer after layer of wards on top of an artefact that dated all the way back to the Thousand-Year Empire. I didn't blame Magister Von Rupert for being concerned about what might happen if the wards were updated. The entire school was at risk.

  “And you want me to replace it,” I said. I didn't even know where to begin. There were protective Objects of Power included in the books in Dad’s library, but they’d all struck me as an order of magnitude more complex than the flying machine. And if I had to build them alone ... I wasn't sure I could do it. “It might be hard ...”

  “Ah ... we do understand,” Magister Von Rupert said. He let out a sigh. “But ... ah ... we must find a solution soon, before it is too late.”

  I nodded in understanding. The family wards were tied to a specific bloodline, allowing a degree of direct control and sophistication the school’s wards lacked. There was no way to tie them to a bloodline too, not without rebuilding the entire network from the ground up. It would be a nightmare. And who would take control of the school? Jude’s was neutral ground. Whoever took control would be in a position to shatter that neutrality beyond repair.

  “I’d have to study the plans carefully,” I said. It was a very long-term project. “I think it might take years.”

  “I understand,” Magister Von Rupert said. “Ah--” he cleared his throat “--what did you make of today’s class?”

  I frowned as I slowly wrapped up the diagram and placed it on his desk. “I think I understand,” I said, slowly. “But why do the runes keep the spell in place?”

  “The magic is locked into the spellform,” Magister Von Rupert said. “It is really very simple.”

  I frowned. I knew something was wrong - or at least misunderstood - but I wasn't sure how to put it into words. And yet ...

  “When you set fire to wood for heat,” I said slowly, “the fire burns as long as it has something to burn. You have to feed it a constant supply of wood if you want to keep the fire going. And that’s true of spells too, isn't it? A spell remains in being as long as it has a supply of magic.”

  And it doesn't care where the magic comes from, I added, silently. I’d proved that, to my satisfaction, but I hadn’t discussed it with anyone apart from Rose. Our names on a research paper would go a long way towards ensuring that she had a satisfactory future after she graduated. But how does locking it in place keep the spell active?

  I struggled to put my vague concept into words. “The spell should still be burning magic,” I said. “So why doesn't it run out of magic, even with the runes holding it in place?”

  Magister Von Rupert frowned. “It is generally believed that magic doesn't work like firewood,” he said, slowly. “Ah ... the magic is concentrated in one place, rather than being burnt. One might ... ah ... compare several men working together to lift something, instead of each man trying to lift the object on his own. The runes keep the magic from leaking away.”

  He reached for a folder and started to flick the pages. “That may be why the runes on Objects of Power and Devices of Power are different in many ways,” he said. “The latter are more focused on preventing magic from leaking, once it has been infused into the Device.”

  “But I don’t have any power to infuse,” I pointed out. “Where does the power come from?”

  “Ah ... a very good question,” Magister Von Rupert said. “You may be unlocking previously unknown magical aspects of metal and wood. It was not until recently that we discovered that the common or garden ... ah ... worm had uses beyond the obvious. And you yourself proved that dragon scales can actually be worked into something useful.”

  I nodded, slowly. Dragon scales weren’t actually useless, but they require very careful handling indeed. I hadn't been the only one to realise that they could be used to produce a burst of raw magic, merely the only one to make it work. And yet ... when I’d tried to show the trick to Rose, I’d nearly killed both of us.

  It did make a certain kind of sense. The potions my mother brewed would have seemed impossible to my ancestors, at least as far back as the empire. They would have stared in disbelief as Mum brewed a potion involving spells they knew to be dangerous when mingled with potion ingredients. Maybe there was something about wood and metal that could only be unlocked by a Zero. But ... something told me that wasn't the answer. There were simply too many unanswered questions.

  “It might be true,” I said. “But ...”

  “You will uncover more secrets as you work,” Magister Von Rupert assured me. “And you will lay the groundwork for your successors.”

  He gave me an odd little smile. “You might as well do your homework now
,” he said, as he turned his attention to an ancient crackling manuscript. “And if you have questions, you can ask.”

  I would have preferred to do my homework in the library or even the dorm, but it was clear that I wasn't going to be allowed to leave until the bell rang. Opening my notebook, I reread the assignment and then went to work. The runes were simple enough to draw, yet getting them into the right pattern was a little harder. A mistake might not be a complete disaster - it would keep the spell in place for a few hours longer, not indefinitely - but it would be annoying. Magister Grayson wouldn’t hesitate to call any particularly brainless mistakes out in front of the class.

  “I was wondering,” I said, as the runic network took shape. “If someone uses a network of runes to turn their victim into a frog and keep them that way, what’s to stop the frog from hopping out of the network?”

  “Nothing,” Magister Von Rupert said, simply. “Unless, of course, you ... ah ... add a secondary set of runes to keep the frog in place. Or you put a ward-line around the network. But it can be difficult to draw out the line without weakening the runes.”

  I nodded. I had a feeling that I’d need to know that, sooner or later.

  “The prisons have a more complex set of spellforms to keep the prisoners under control,” Magister Von Rupert added, after a moment. “We’ll be looking at that when you become an upperclassman.”

  “If I do,” I said. I looked down at the runic diagram I’d drawn, feeling a sudden flash of irritation. I could plot it out, but I couldn't make it work. “Is there any point in trying to pass my exams?”

  “Ah ... theory is important,” Magister Von Rupert said. “Many poor spellcasters can still add to our body of knowledge, simply by devising newer and better runic diagrams. You are still on simple runes, for all your advanced knowledge. The more complex networks are beyond you. Ah ... for now.”

  For a moment, he sounded sterner. “And you ... ah ... have a talent that makes you unique,” he added. “Ah ... do you think your exam results matter?”

  “Alana will lord hers over me for years,” I predicted, gloomily.

  “She can't make Objects of Power,” Magister Von Rupert reminded me. The bell rang, loudly. “Try to focus on your advantages instead of your disadvantages.”

  I closed my notebook - I’d have to finish the diagram later - and headed for the door back into the classroom. An upperclassman was sitting at one of the desks, looking bored. He smiled at me as I approached, a smile I hoped was his best attempt at seeming friendly. It looked rather like he was out of practice.

  “Caitlyn,” he said. “I was wondering ...”

  “... If I could do a private commission for you,” I said. I’d heard it before. I wondered, absently, just what I was going to be offered this time. Money? A favour? Or something else? “Tell me what you want and I’ll see if I can do it, for the right price.”

  His face shadowed, just for a second. “I want an improved focusing device,” he said. “If you can make one that stores and releases multiple spells at once ...”

  I made a show of considering it. I couldn't rent a focusing device, not one bonded to a specific person. He’d have to pay very well. And perhaps not in money.

  “Maybe I could,” I said. “What are you offering?”

  I felt someone looking at me. I looked up. Alana was standing in the doorway, her eyes wide. Us juniors - us firsties - didn't talk to upperclassmen. They only noticed us when we’d done something wrong. Or when they wanted to take their bad mood out on us. Even brothers and sisters wouldn't socialise, publicly, in school. But an upperclassman was talking to me ...

  I smiled at her. Alana, for all of her magic and the family name, didn't have upperclassmen asking her for favours. Even those who wanted to apprentice under my father didn't ask us for help. But an upperclassman was still talking to me. For once, I was the favoured one. I’d pulled off a social coup she couldn't hope to match. I allowed my smile to grow wider, daring her to say something. But she seemed too flabbergasted to say a word.

  And then she withdrew, as silently as she’d come.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Weekends had never really been quiet days for me. At home, there had been the ever-present threat of waking up to discover that I’d been turned into something small and slimy; at school, there had been the same problem combined with a complete lack of concern for our personal welfare. And then there had been a series of detentions that had kept me from sleeping in ...

  “Wake up,” someone shouted. “Wake up!”

  I jerked awake, one hand reaching for the dispeller. I’d protected myself as best as I could, but my defences weren't perfect. If Isabella had decided to sneak through the drapes and cast spells on me ... I could hear people outside the drapes, but no one seemed to be trying to break through. I checked myself quickly with the spectacles, then stood. Whoever was shouting seemed to want us all out of bed.

  “Come on,” someone said. It sounded like Isabella. “Hurry!”

  I checked my nightgown, brushed my hair out of my eyes and stepped through the drapes. Isabella was standing in the centre of the room, holding a large paper bag in one hand. She held it out to Henrietta as I watched, offering her a chocolate ... no, a sweet. There was a single sigil on the bag, confirming that it had come from Sweetmeats. I stared in awed disbelief. Isabella had slipped out of the school?

  “I brought them back myself,” Isabella said, catching my eye. She held the bag out to me. “Try one?”

  I hesitated. Sweetmeats was the best sweetshop in the city. Everyone said so. And yet, I wouldn't have taken one from Isabella if there had been any other choice. But it was rude to decline food, when offered. I took a raspberry drop and palmed it, unsure if I actually wanted to put it in my mouth. Isabella could easily have hexed the sweet when I wasn't looking.

  Although she would have had to know which sweet I’d take, I thought. Henrietta was sucking hers with every evidence of enjoyment. And she would have had to keep the other girls from taking it ...

  Rose took a sweet before I could stop her and popped it into her mouth. I tensed, expecting Rose to turn into a chicken or start croaking like a frog or something else humiliating. I’d seen countless sweets that had ... interesting ... effects on people foolish enough to put them in their mouths. But nothing happened. I eyed my sweet warily, then pocketed it as Isabella offered the bag around. I didn't think I wanted to eat it.

  “That was good,” Rose said. “What was it?”

  “A caramel surprise,” Isabella said. “I slipped out at dawn and bought them.”

  “Hah,” I said. “You had them shipped to you ...”

  Isabella held out the bag. The date on the seal was today. “Not so clever, are you?” Isabella said. “You’re a cheat! And nothing, but a cheat!”

  I swallowed several nasty responses. Isabella couldn't have gone out of the school, could she? Sneaking through the building might be tacitly ignored, as long as the student in question wasn't actually caught, but actually leaving the school? Isabella should have been caught before she had a chance to cross the grounds. I glanced at the clock and frowned, again. Isabella would have had to get up at least a couple of hours ago to get out of the school, make her way to the sweetshop and then get back before her absence was noticed.

  Although if she kept her drapes closed, Sandy might not notice she was gone, I thought, slowly. She might have made it out ...

  I dismissed the thought as Isabella passed out the rest of the sweets. It was a trick. It had to be a trick. Alana was the most advanced student I knew in my year and she couldn't have broken through the school’s wards. Magister Von Rupert had insisted that the outer wards were secure, hadn't he? And if a firstie could break them ... I looked at the raven badge on my blazer, waiting for me to put it on, and frowned. Someone might just be able to use the badge to get inside.

  “We’ll discuss this later,” Sandy said, quieting the chatter. Everyone but me wanted to congratulate Isabella on her s
uccess. “Everyone else, go back to bed or clear out. I don’t care which.”

  I looked at Rose, then headed for the shower. Isabella had tricked everyone, it seemed. How had she done it? I couldn't wrap my head around her mastering a trick that had defeated a number of upperclassmen ... I groaned as it hit me. It was obvious. It should have occurred to me at once. She’d bribed an upperclassman to buy the sweets, then claimed to have bought them for herself.

  We showered quickly, then headed down to breakfast. The giant hall was almost empty, save for a handful of upperclassmen who looked somewhat the worse for wear. I guessed they’d been caught by the City Guard and marched back to the school, although there was no way to know for sure. We tried to avoid attracting attention as we ate our breakfast. Akin joined us as we finished, looking tired. I wondered, absently, what had kept him up half the night.