She glanced back. A mirror sat right behind her, so close she was almost resting against it. She stumbled up and staggered away, her head spinning so badly that she almost threw up. She wanted—needed—water. But Caleb had been carrying the water bottle... she cursed herself for not making sure they both carried some. It was the sort of mistake that could cost lives. Sergeant Miles would never have let her forget it, if she’d done it in class.
Emily gritted her teeth against the pain, then concentrated. Her magic felt warped and twisted, as if something wasn’t quite right. Where was she? She forced herself to look around the room, taking in the locked and warded door as well as the small collection of books on the shelves. They looked to be nothing more than textbooks, but... she eyed the door, warily. It had been locked from the inside, then secured with a set of very nasty hexes. No one, it seemed, had tried to force their way into the room.
Someone came in here, sealed the doors and then went into the mirror, Emily thought, as she picked up the first textbook. It was on charms, rather than mirror magic. They used the mirrors as portals and...
She frowned. If the mirrors were portals, then... why hadn’t more of the staff managed to escape? They could have used a mirror to escape the school before it was too late... right? Or... Emily remembered the path within the mirror and shuddered. There were no paths within regular portals. Perhaps the mirror-portals only had limited range. Or... it was easy to understand why they’d gone out of fashion. She had problems with regular portals—they always gave her headaches—but mirror-portals were far worse.
She searched the rest of the room as quickly as possible, giving the door a wide berth. The suite was smaller than she’d expected, with a tiny washroom that was barely large enough for a grown man. Had it belonged to a child? Or... she shook her head. It was the height of luxury, compared to communal showers or sponge baths. She was being stupid. Whoever had owned the room had probably been glad to have it. She would have been glad to have it, seven years ago. Whitehall had spoilt her.
There were no clothes in the drawers, only a handful of talismans that had lost their power long ago. She took them anyway, silently promising herself she’d return them to their owner or his descendants when she had a chance, and stuck them in her pocket. The books weren’t as interesting as she’d hoped, but she made a mental note to come back and collect them later. They might come in handy. She turned her attention to the door and stopped as a nasty thought struck her. Was she even in her own world?
She felt her heart start to race as the thought refused to go away. Was she in a whole other universe? Was she... it felt right, but that was meaningless. There was no reason to assume that an alternate universe would feel different than her own. Earth certainly didn’t feel any different to the Nameless World. If she’d walked into an alternate timeline... she shuddered, helplessly. Would she notice any difference? Or would she assume that everything was normal until it was far too late?
The mirror seemed perfectly normal when she looked at it. Her reflection seemed unchanged. There were no differences, as far as she could tell. She considered, briefly, trying to force her way back into the mirror, but there was no way to know where she’d end up. The pathway had been so faint that she wasn’t convinced she would go anywhere. She let out a breath, then turned her attention back to the hexed door. The room’s owner had been very determined to keep intruders out, at all costs. Emily wasn’t sure she could have picked her way into the room without getting a very nasty surprise.
And this happened in a school, she thought, as she started to take the spells apart from the rear. What were they thinking?
She shivered as the first spell snapped under her touch. They’d been put together in a tearing hurry and it showed, although none of the mistakes and imperfections she saw actually hampered the spells from doing their job. Maybe it had been deliberate. The caster had mixed a transfiguration spell into a repulsion spell, perhaps intending to use the latter to kill the target while he was fighting off the former. Or maybe the caster had simply been desperate. Emily didn’t know. The caster hadn’t even left himself ways to take the spells down from the inside. It made it harder for her to take the spells apart, one by one.
At least I know this school was invaded too, she told herself, as another spell snapped. A shower of sparks shot out in all directions. The timelines are that close...
She cursed herself for an idiot as a thought struck her. The wards. She reached out to the wards, gambling they would welcome her. They responded, greeting her... Emily let out a sigh of relief. She was in her world, she thought. Or one close enough for there to be no real difference. The wards were hers. She silently promised herself that she’d add a message function to the wards as soon as possible. But they weren’t flexible enough to carry messages, not yet. It would be months before they grew that complex.
We should have started work a lot sooner, Emily thought, sourly. Perhaps she and Caleb should have gone to Heart’s Eye before they’d started Sixth Year. They could have prepared the school for occupation without having to worry about mundanes and magicians trying to undermine their positions. But we thought it was better to wait.
The last of the wards snapped under her touch. Emily stumbled forward, careful to check the door handle for surprises before trying to open the door. The lock was solid, held in place by magic... she frowned as she realized there was one final trick. Anyone who tried to unlock the door with magic would be in for a nasty surprise. The charm was cunning, too deeply embedded in the door to be easy to remove. She hesitated, then reached into her pouch to produce a multitool. Sergeant Miles had taught her how to pick locks, without magic. He’d pointed out, more than once, that most magicians rarely guarded against mundane tricks. Emily hadn’t needed him to point that out to her.
She gritted her teeth as she manipulated the lock, ready to throw herself back at the slightest hint of trouble. The lock was crude, simplistic; she rather suspected it was intended more to make it clear that someone shouldn’t enter without permission rather than actually keep them out. No first-year student would have any problems opening the lock with magic, if they tried. The wards would pose a far more serious barrier. She heard the lock click and jerked back, just in case. Instead, the door opened into a dusty corridor. Emily stepped through, one hand raised to cast a spell or raise a ward. There was no one outside. The dust was so thick that she was sure no one had passed the door since the school fell. She listened, carefully, but heard nothing. She was in a part of the school that hadn’t been searched in the last two weeks.
Which means I might walk straight into a trap, she thought. And I’m not even sure which way to go.
She concentrated, focusing on the wards. They were centered on the nexus point, which meant... she thought she knew the way back to the central stairwell. It was hard to be sure, but... she shrugged and started to walk. If she was wrong, she’d have time to go back before hunger and thirst started to get to her. Dust billowed up around her as she walked, staining her dress. She muttered a pair of repulsing spells as she kept going, passing a line of doors that had been locked and hexed shut. Had their owners jumped into the mirrors? Were they still in the mirrors? Was that even possible?
Emily concentrated, touching the wards again. They’d been designed to grow organically, rather than simply being emplaced by a wardcrafter. It wasn’t the only way to tap a nexus point, but it was the most flexible. She’d learnt that from Lord Whitehall himself. But... it didn’t look as if the wards had grown any further. She hadn’t gone any real distance into the future... she frowned, reminding herself that even a day or two might prove disastrous. Who knew what could’ve happened in her absence?
She reached a door that should have led into the stairwell. It was closed and hexed shut. Emily smiled—the necromancer clearly hadn’t bothered to try to force his way in—then unpicked the hex and pushed the door open. The stairwell beyond lay in ruins. She peered down, fighting a sudden sense of vertigo. Someone
had smashed the stairs beyond repair, leaving a pile of debris at the bottom. Perhaps they’d thought the necromancer couldn’t levitate. Or perhaps the necromancer himself had done it, in a fit of rage. Who knew?
We might never know, Emily mused. She frowned. It looked as though she was on the fifth floor, although it was hard to be sure. Was she looking at the ground floor... or the basement or... she shook her head, then cast a levitation spell and lowered herself to the bottom. The air stank of something, something unpleasant. What was he doing here?
She looked around, then carefully stepped through a shattered door. The walls beyond were scorched, as if the necromancer had been trying to burn the entire school from the inside. A handful of mirrors hung in place, seemingly untouched. Emily checked them, careful not to touch them with her bare hands, but they felt like ordinary mirrors. She shook her head. Ordinary mirrors would never have survived anything capable of charring the walls. They would be in pieces, lying on the floor... she pushed the thought aside as she inched down the corridor. She could hear someone talking, someone reassuringly human...
A young girl stepped into view, her jaw dropping as she saw Emily. “You’re not supposed to be... Lady Emily!”
Emily held up a hand as the girl hastily curtseyed, almost tripping over herself. A maid. A girl recruited in Cockatrice, trading her services in exchange for an education. Yvonne had told her that some maids were very driven... Emily could believe it. Without a proper education, they would work until they were used up and then discarded. The rapidly-expanding middle class families didn’t have any sense they should be taking care of old retainers.
“It’s quite all right,” Emily said, as the girl began to stammer apologies. “I just got a little lost. Where am I?”
“The servant quarters, My Lady.” The poor maid looked terrified. “I... I thought you were... ah...”
“Don’t worry about it,” Emily told her. The girl wouldn’t know what to say. She’d probably thought the servant quarters were private, if only because her superiors wouldn’t lower themselves to visit. “But don’t go through the door. It needs to be checked carefully.”
“Yes, My Lady,” the girl said.
Emily took a breath. “How long has it been since we started covering the mirrors?”
“Um... two days, My Lady,” the maid said. “Um...”
“Thank God.” Emily breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t been thrown forward in time. And she was still in her own world. That was something, at least. “Carry on, please.”
“Yes, My Lady.”
Chapter Twenty-One
EMILY WANTED—NEEDED—A SHOWER, BUT there was no time. She hurried back to the classroom where she’d found the open mirror, hoping she would manage to find Caleb and the others before they did something stupid. She felt grimy, her dress stained beyond repair, but... she forced herself to pick up speed as she heard the argument echoing down the corridor. Caleb, Master Highland, Frieda...
She stepped into the room. “Hi.”
“Emily,” Caleb said. Beside him, Master Highland gaped at her. “What happened?”
“Long story,” Emily said. “Can you pass me the canteen? I need water.”
“Sure,” Caleb said. He unhooked the canteen from his belt and held it out to her. “What happened?”
Emily took a long drink, taking advantage of the pause to survey the room. The Gorgon and Cirroc stood in the corner, looking as if they wanted to be somewhere else; Hoban knelt in front of the mirror, tapping the surface with a silver wand. Someone had tied his belt to the doorknob. It looked absurd, but it was a sensible precaution. Whatever had pulled her into the mirror might not be deterred by magic alone.
Or it might pull the door into the mirror too, Emily thought. She took another swig, then passed the canteen back to Caleb. Once it had me, it refused to let go.
She jabbed a finger at the mirror. “That’s not a normal mirror,” she said. “That’s a portal.”
“A portal?” Master Highland sounded astonished. “A portal to where?”
“A bedroom on the other side of the school,” Emily said. “The room was locked from the inside, like all the others. I think whoever set the traps escaped through the mirrors.”
She outlined everything that had happened, ending with her escape from the room and walk back to the servant’s dorm. Master Highland and the others listened quietly, without asking questions until she got to the end. Emily was grateful. There was no harm in them knowing the truth, but... she didn’t know what they’d make of everything she’d thought. Very few people knew that alternate worlds existed. She wasn’t sure what would happen if more people knew they were real.
“And then I walked up here,” she said. “What happened here?”
“I saw you fall into the mirror,” Caleb said. “I called for help, then checked the mirror myself. I couldn’t get in. We were just arguing over what to do next when you returned.”
Cirroc had a different question. “Master... if the mirrors are portals, how did you not know about it?”
Master Highland looked as if he’d bitten into something sour. “Cirroc, I was never on the staff,” he said, tiredly. “No one ever told me that the mirrors were portals and... I never saw them used, although... in hindsight, some of the teachers did seem to get around the school quicker than we thought possible. We assumed they just had access to the servant passages.”
“Or that they teleported,” Frieda suggested. She shrugged when Emily looked at her. “This isn’t Whitehall. They could teleport around the school.”
“The wards wouldn’t let them,” Master Highland said. “It never occurred to me that the mirrors might be portals.”
It should have occurred to me, Emily thought. She’d heard stories about two mirrors being linked together and used as portals, although... they’d gone out of fashion so long ago that no one remembered. She understood why, now. And yet... what happened?
“They may be drawing power from the nexus point,” she said. “I just don’t know how.”
“We could get a pair of wardcrafters to examine the spells,” Master Highland offered. “If they’re drawing power from the wards...”
“They shouldn’t be.” Emily shook her head. The last thing she wanted was to give someone a chance to hack the wards. “The wards were never linked to the mirrors.”
“Your wards weren’t,” the Gorgon said. “What about the original wards?”
“They’re gone,” Master Highland said, dismissively. “What they did, when they were functional, doesn’t matter now.”
“I’d say it does,” Caleb said, “if they provided enough power for the mirror-portals to remain functional for ten years.”
“No portal would remain open for ten years, unless there was a steady supply of power,” Master Highland said. “It isn’t easy to keep them open for one year. A portal without power would snap out of existence...”
“That might be true for a regular portal,” Cirroc said. “But what about one based on mirrors?”
“We don’t know,” Emily said. An enchanted object could remain enchanted for quite some time, but... there were limits. A portal required more power than most magicians could produce for longer than a few seconds. “It’s clear they were doing something with the mirrors.”
Caleb touched the mirror. “What happened? How did you get in?”
“I think I must have unlocked something,” Emily said. She stood next to him as Caleb fiddled with the mirror. “I saw my reflection change, then... I was sucked inside.”
“That’s a little odd for a portal,” Master Highland pointed out. “They’re normally just... doors.”
“Maybe you’re meant to jump into the portal,” Cirroc said. “And rely on your speed to carry you though.”
“I had to walk,” Emily said. A regular portal brought two places together, so someone could just step from one to the other. A mirror portal, on the other hand, seemed to shorten the distance between two places rather than elim
inating it completely. Was it taking a shortcut through an alternate dimension? A smaller dimension? “Maybe someone who runs into the mirror will be carried and tossed out at the other side.”
“If there’s only two mirrors, linked together.” Master Highland sounded irked. “There might be more.”
“I only saw one path,” Emily said. “Really... I didn’t see the path so much as sense it.”
“There’s probably more to the system than we know,” Caleb said. He was still poking at the mirror. “If you use a different spell, you might wind up somewhere different.”
“Or the rest of the system could be broken,” Hoban said. “I saw a couple of tombs that...”
“Ah,” Caleb said. “I...”
The world went white. Emily threw up her arms as she felt—again—the sensation of plunging forward into nothingness. Something scrabbled at her side, as if someone was trying to grab her. Caleb, perhaps. The world went bright, then dark, then... she opened her eyes to see the silvery light, all around her. There was no sign of Caleb.
“Caleb?” She looked from side to side, but saw nothing. Where was he? Had he managed to catch himself before he could be pulled into the mirror? Or... she shook her head. He’d been standing right next to her. He should have been pulled in first. “What did you do?”
She raised her voice and shouted, as loud as she could. “Caleb?”
There was no answer. There wasn’t even an echo. Her voice felt strange in her ears, as if there was something wrong. The silvery light seemed to suck up the sound, until the chamber—the mirror dimension—was completely silent. She clapped her hands, but the sound was deadened. No matter how hard she shouted, she barely heard anything. The sound seemed swallowed up by the silence.
Mirror Image (Schooled in Magic Book 18) Page 20
