“It could be worse,” Penny said. “Believe me, it could be worse.”
“Yeah.” Nanette forced herself to stand. “And what do you want in exchange for this bit of ... benevolence?”
Penny smiled as she brought out a handful of parchments. “I know you’re better at charms than you let on,” she said. “I want you to tell me what you think of these.”
Nanette concealed her irritation as she studied the parchments. The suggestions had clearly taken root in Penny’s mind. It helped, she supposed, that Penny wanted to take advantage of her. There were definite advantages to knowing someone’s secrets. You could make them do anything, if the alternative was worse. And everyone knew Nadine was useless at charms or - indeed - any form of advanced magic. No one would believe her if she claimed the other girl had stolen her ideas.
“You’re planning a ritualised flying display,” she mused. There would be eleven girls in the formation, each one casting a part of the whole. “Who are you trying to impress?”
“There’s a bunch of charms mistresses who’re meant to be attending,” Penny said. “If I can impress them, they’ll be falling over themselves to offer me an apprenticeship.”
Nanette felt a flash of amused understanding. Competition for apprenticeships was fierce. No wonder Penny was prepared to bend the rules and beg for help. If it worked out for her, she’d be on top of the world. Nadine wouldn’t see the point, but Nanette did. And she could see how to take advantage of it. She was already starting to form a plan.
“You’re going to have to plan it carefully,” she said. “And if someone fails their role ...”
“I know my team,” Penny insisted. “They can do it.”
“I’m sure they can,” Nanette said. She was tempted to point out that Penny had never tried to introduce her, but kept that to herself. The last thing she wanted was an introduction. “If you work the spells together ...”
She heard what sounded like a knock, a very faint knock, on the door. She looked up, puzzled. Someone who wanted in would knock louder, wouldn’t they? So would someone who wanted to prank them. They’d want to make sure no one was in ... she heard Penny snort, an instant before she heard the knock again. Someone was there, but knocking lightly ... they seemed to be in two minds about it. Did they want the door to open?
“Come,” she called.
The door opened. Lillian stepped into the room, wringing her hands together nervously. Nanette blinked in surprise. It was rare, at Mountaintop, for a young student to enter an older student’s dorm. Whitehall seemed to operate on the same principle. But Laughter ... she stood, trying to paste a welcoming expression on her face. It wasn’t easy.
Penny looked up. “What are you doing here?”
Lillian paled still further. “I ... I ...”
“She came to see me,” Nanette said, before Penny could say or do something unfortunate. “I’m her new mentor.”
“Sucks to be you, I guess,” Penny said. She glowered at the parchments. “Tell her to buzz off and come back tomorrow.”
“I’ll talk to you after dinner,” Nanette said, to Penny. It would have been rude to invite Lillian to stay, given that Penny clearly didn’t want her there. “Lillian, shall we go find a place to chat?”
The younger girl looked surprised, but nodded. Nanette felt depressed. Lillian had probably expected to be told to get lost, if she wasn’t simply thrown out the room or given detention. It had taken a great deal of nerve for her to enter the corridor, let alone knock on the door and wait. The older students didn’t take kindly to younger students invading their domain.
Which is how the staff controls us, Nanette thought. Studying under Aurelius had been an eye-opening experience in more ways than one. They manipulate our social hierarchy to make us behave.
She found an empty study and motioned for Lillian to enter. “How are you?”
Lillian shifted, uncomfortably. “How are you?”
Nanette felt a hot flash of anger. How dare Lillian ask her anything? How dare ... she shook her head. Lillian had probably heard the rumours, the rumours that had probably grown in the telling. If Nanette was any judge, half the school probably believed the gym mistress had beaten her to death and then used forbidden magics to make her rise from the dead. And there were plenty of students who had every reason to want to put her down a little. Nadine was an aristocrat whose father had pulled strings to get his daughter into the school.
“I’m fine,” she said, tersely. Emily would have known what to say. Emily would probably have had the younger girl eating out of the palm of her hand in a day or two. “How are you?”
“Fine.” Lillian shifted awkwardly. “I ... Lady Damia said you’d help me.”
“I’m sure she did,” Nanette said. She wondered at the older woman’s motives. Nadine wouldn’t be around for more than a couple of years, whatever happened. “Did she say with what?”
“With everything,” Lillian said. She reached into her pocket and produced a piece of parchment. “I just don’t understand.”
Nanette took the parchment and unfolded it. “You’re trying to get ahead too fast,” she said, after a moment. She recognised the signs, all too well. She’d had her nose rubbed in them, six years ago. And then ... she rubbed her arm, unconsciously. “You have to master the basics first, or you’ll get your palm smacked.”
“That’s happened.” Lillian’s face reddened. “I just don’t understand.”
“Clearly.” Nanette motioned for her to sit. “Let’s go through it, shall we?”
She’d never really considered teaching as a career, although Aurelius had made her proctor a couple of classes and mark assignments he couldn’t be bothered to mark himself. And yet, as she forced herself to go through half-remembered spellwork she’d left behind years ago, she found herself starting to enjoy it. Lillian wasn’t stupid, merely ignorant. The way her eyes lit up when she finally connected the dots ... Nanette understood, just for a moment, why some of her teachers enjoyed their work. The satisfaction of merely helping someone to think made up for one hell of a lot.
“These exercises don’t make sense,” Lillian grumbled. “Why do they ask us to prepare ingredients, then reject them?”
“You’re meant to ask what you’re going to be brewing,” Nanette said. “Take ... fairy roots. If you were making a soothing potion, you’d peel the roots before chopping them up and putting them in the brew, but if you were making a healing potion you’d merely wash them first. If you don’t ask what you’re doing, how do you expect to get it right?”
Lillian frowned. “We’re not meant to ask questions.”
“It’s better to confess ignorance than look like an idiot when your potion explodes,” Nanette pointed out, dryly. She’d met her share of sarcastic alchemists who looked to have dark secrets preying on their minds - or hangovers, from drinking their own brews - but none of them had ever punished her for asking questions. “Don’t you ever speak up in class?”
“Everyone laughs, every time I reveal my ignorance,” Lillian said. “And they ...”
“Learn to defend yourself,” Nanette said, curtly. She felt a twinge of disgust, mingled with guilt. “Bullies go away if you hurt them. And you have magic.”
“They have magic too,” Lillian pointed out.
“You don’t have to kill them.” Nanette’s lips twitched. “You just have to give them a bloody nose.”
She studied the younger girl for a long moment. She shouldn’t get attached. She shouldn’t do anything to draw attention to herself. And yet ... it had worked out for Emily. She’d taught the Shadows how to defend themselves. She’d ... Nanette wasn’t quite sure what Emily had been doing at Mountaintop, but she had to admit the whole affair had been one hell of a diversion. Even Aurelius had had problems coping with it.
And she killed him. Nanette was sure of it, although she’d never seen the body. Damn her.
She cleared her throat. “I’m going to have to lecture,” she said. “Are you
ready?”
“Yes.” Lillian looked as if she’d be happy to listen to Nanette reading anything. “I’m ready.”
Nanette smiled. “The wimp is one of the two most despised characters in and out of school,” she said. “Part of that is because the wimp attracts bullies like flies to shit. Part of that is because the wimp, being unable to defend him or herself, is unable to defend anyone else either. And once you start on that downward trajectory, it is very hard to turn around and start climbing up again.”
She studied Lillian for a long moment. “You’re projecting an air of weakness,” she said, flatly. “You look weak, so others - boys as well as girls - will pick on you. You’ll be trained into helplessness before you even realise what’s happened, let alone do something about it. You have to learn to project both the appearance of power and actual power. Hold your head up higher, brush back your hair and don’t let them see it hurts.”
“I don’t know where to begin,” Lillian said.
“Hold your head up high and look me in the eye,” Nanette ordered, patiently. “And tell yourself you can hurt me if I try to hurt you.”
Lillian tried, but failed. Nanette kept her expression carefully blank. She didn’t know how Emily had turned Frieda into a powerful and capable magician. Frieda had been a Shadow, far more beaten down than Lillian ... Nanette forced herself to remember Aurelius’s teachings. He’d pointed out, more than once, that all the strength in the world was meaningless without the will and confidence to use it. Nanette supposed she’d never been quite as beaten down as Frieda or Lillian. She’d known she had power. She just hadn’t known how much.
And I was ruthless enough to risk killing my mistress, she reminded herself, dryly. She knew she’d been lucky. Aurelius would have been quite within his rights to expel her on the spot and badmouth her to the other magic schools. Lillian isn’t quite at that stage.
“You need to focus more on offensive magic,” she said. “And practice your defences as well.”
“I don’t know where to begin,” Lillian admitted.
Nanette smiled, then started to guide her through a series of basic protective spells. None of them were particularly strong - a powerful magician could batter them down through raw power alone - but they’d give Lillian a chance to strike back. Or simply get out of the way while mustering a counterattack. She found herself enjoying the experience - again - as she switched to more offensive spells, from sneaky pranks to nastier hexes that would teach anyone who tried to hurt her a lesson.
“Make sure you protect your property as well,” she said, as the bell rang. “You have a trunk?”
Lillian nodded. “Of course. Doesn’t everyone?”
“No.” Nanette shrugged. “If it’s not an enchanted trunk, someone’s probably already taken a peek inside. Make sure you protect it before they do something worse.”
“I ...” Lillian swallowed and started again. “I thought that was forbidden.”
Nanette raised her eyebrows. “So is picking on younger students,” she said. Aurelius had told her, more than once, that merely passing laws against crime was pointless. There were people who’d do something criminal merely for the thrill. Breaking into someone’s trunk was forbidden, but she knew students who’d done it. They’d found it enjoyable. “Make sure your trunk is secure before you use it to store anything ... well, anything you don’t want someone else to know about.”
Lillian coloured. “I don’t have anything to hide.”
“Everyone says that,” Nanette said. There was always something, from a harmless schoolgirl crush to criminal misconduct. “And everyone is lying.”
She snorted at the thought as she stood. “I want you to practice the spells I showed you,” she said. “And I want you to go through your previous essays and see if you can do them better.”
“I’ll do my best,” Lillian said. “I ... why are people so ... so ...?”
“Horrible?” Nanette made a face. “Power. It’s all about power.”
Lillian looked doubtful. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Nanette shrugged. “Among mundanes, there’s physical power” - she clenched a fist - “and social power. A strong man has physical power, which he can turn into social power; a weak man can still manipulate social power, but rarely hold it in the face of physical opposition. Women have far less physical power - very few women can beat a man in a fistfight - which encourages them to develop social power to levels men find impossible to grasp. And the stupider amongst the men find that either irritating or amusing.”
She felt a sudden wave of bitterness. “Magic levels the playing field. A woman can meet a man on even terms. Right now, the most fearsome magician in the world is a woman. I suppose it isn’t a surprise that women, given equal power to men, act like men.”
“I don’t understand,” Lillian confessed.
“You will.” Nanette ran a hand though her hair. She’d said too much. Nadine wouldn’t be so ruthlessly cynical. She might understand her society intellectually, but she wouldn’t feel it until someone showed her just how defenceless she truly was. And really ... she’d shown too much competence. Emily had the excuse of being the Child of Destiny. Everyone expected her to be brilliant. “Believe me, you will.”
Lillian stood and hugged her, tightly. “Thank you,” she said. “I ... thank you.”
“Perhaps you can do something for me in exchange,” Nanette said, awkwardly. She had to find a way to use the girl, if only to give her some cover afterwards. “When I ask you to do something, will you do it?”
“Anything,” Lillian said. “Anything at all.”
Nanette watched her go, feeling torn between guilt and grim amusement. Lillian really reminded her of herself, yet ... she’d never made such a foolhardy promise. She’d never pledged herself to a stranger, with no idea of what he’d demand of her. Or had she? She’d devoted herself to Aurelius, then Cloak ...
Not that it matters, she told herself, firmly. The plan was starting to take shape. It just needed some fine-tuning. I won’t stay here long enough for it to matter.
8
“You shouldn’t be spending so much time with that firstie,” Penny said, as they bent their heads over the parchments. “People are starting to talk.”
“It’s only been a week,” Nanette pointed out, dryly. “And I have orders to mentor her.”
“Which is all that’s stopping some of the nastier rumours from getting any traction,” Penny snapped. “You do realise she’s got a pash on you?”
And you’re jealous, Nanette thought. It was fairly clear that Penny had a pash on her. She never wasted a moment to spend time with Nanette, practicing everything from etiquette to dancing when they weren’t working on the flying display. You want me to spend more time with you.
She shrugged. “I have my orders,” she said, trying to add a hint of sourness to her voice. “And how many others even give me the time of day?”
Penny reddened. “I could introduce you to people if you weren’t in detention every weekend,” she said. “Why did you help the little brat?”
“I ...” Nanette shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, really.”
She peered down at the parchments. Penny was good, for her age, but Nanette was better. Aurelius had practically given her a charms apprenticeship, before she’d even graduated from Mountaintop. It had taken a great deal of work to craft charms that looked harmless, as long as they weren’t put together in a specific order. Nanette had few qualms about risking lives, but she knew she was risking discovery. A skilled charms mistress might realise something was wrong if she studied the parchments. She’d suspect the worst - and she’d be right.
“This is going to be great,” Penny said. “Everyone will be watching.”
“Yeah.” Nanette studied the parchment. “I still can’t believe you trust your life to these spells.”
Penny smirked. “Too scared to fly, little girl?”
Nanette allowed herself to flush. Mistress Jens had made
it brutally clear she was not to try flying, at least until she’d mastered the spells. Nanette was sure she could use them, but it helped cement the idea she was bad at charms in everyone’s mind. And besides, she was entirely sure the spells weren’t safe outside a controlled environment. The teachers might promise expulsion without appeal to anyone who tampered with the spells, but what good was that in a real fight?
She sighed. Penny had finally dragged her into the arena and forced her to watch the older girls flying around like bats out of hell. There was a kind of freedom in flying, Nanette had to admit; there was something in her that liked the idea of letting go of her cares, throwing herself into the sky and letting the wind take her away. And yet, she knew she could never be so carefree. She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that a single spell could send her crashing to the ground far below.
“It’s not that and you know it,” Nanette said. “They won’t let me fly.”
“Maybe you should show off your true skill.” Penny leered at her. “Or would that get you into more trouble?”
“Yeah,” Nanette said, quietly.
Penny stood. “You promised me more dancing,” she said. “And I brought music.”
Nanette had to smile as Penny produced a spellstone from her drawer and placed it on the cabinet, then muttered the activation charm. Recorded music was rare - she’d never actually seen a recording spellstone, outside enchantment classes - but she had to admit it served a purpose. There was no need to hire a band for private dance lessons.
And any aristo who could afford a spellstone would sooner die than admit he couldn’t afford a band, she thought. One must keep up appearances, even if it means pawning the family gold and eating off one’s shirts.
She took Penny in her arms and led her through a series of dance steps. It was tempting to just let herself sink into the music and enjoy the dance - Penny was a better partner than some of the men who’d taught her - but she had a job to do. Penny sighed as Nanette ran her hand down Penny’s back, gently brushing her magic against the girl’s skin. The suggestions were definitely starting to take root. Penny couldn’t help feeling friendly and trusting towards Nanette. It only took a moment to strengthen her feelings of bitterness and resentment towards Lillian. The younger girl didn’t know it, but she was Penny’s romantic rival.
Fantastic Schools: Volume 2 Page 35
