The magic traces were thin, partly obscured by her spell. But there were hints... she shuddered as she recognized them. A domination spell. No, not just any domination spell. A spell she’d learnt in the past—after someone had tried to use it on her—then used once, herself, to get a traitor to talk. It was the same spell. It had to be. And someone had used it on Caleb... she felt a flash of anger. Who would dare use the spell so openly?
She inched backwards, careful to make sure that Alt-Caleb’s head didn’t hit the floor when she pushed it off her lap. He whimpered quietly, as if he was too scared to even shout and scream. She shuddered—he wasn’t her Caleb, not like that—and stood, brushing down her dusty skirt. She felt too tired to do anything else... she knew she had to think, to find a way to get through the mirror and recover her Caleb. And...
Master Highland looked pensive, as if he was thinking about something else. “Did you see anything?”
“Nothing.” Emily shook her head. She didn’t want to discuss the spell, but she had no choice. “Someone used a powerful domination spell on him.”
Her mind raced. What if... what if there wasn’t enough room in their universe for both Caleb and Alt-Caleb? Could she send Alt-Caleb back to his world? If she didn’t... could she leave the real Caleb in the alternate world? Did the alternate world even exist? She really had no idea. She gritted her teeth in frustration. It would be easier if she knew for sure what she was dealing with. All she had were guesses and a single, traumatized soul.
“Cirroc,” she said. She took a moment to put her thoughts in order. “Take two people with you and... escort... Alt-Caleb to a bedroom. A single bedroom. Wash him, feed him... let him sleep. Don’t take your eyes off him. If he talks... listen.”
Master Highland didn’t object, although—technically—giving orders to his apprentice was a breach of etiquette. It was his job to relay the orders, although Cirroc was right next to them. But instead... he was too busy studying Alt-Caleb. Emily wondered what he saw...
He straightened and looked at her, his eyes sharp. “Emily,” he said, as Cirroc floated Alt-Caleb out the room. “How do we know you’re our Emily?”
Emily blinked in surprise. She should have thought of that... she reminded herself, sharply, that Master Highland was far from stupid. He’d probably been considering the implications of Alt-Caleb’s appearance while she’d been trying to read his mind. And if it had occurred to him that Emily might not be his Emily... hell, Emily wasn’t sure if she was his Emily. Had she fallen into an alternate world?
That way lies madness, she told herself. She got confused even thinking about it. You have to assume that you’re you.
“She’s our Emily.” Frieda glared at Master Highland, daring him to say something. “I’d know her anywhere.”
“And she hasn’t changed,” the Gorgon added. “Her clothes, her hair, everything. It’s the same.”
No goatee, Emily thought. She tried to keep from smiling at the absurd thought. But then, I wouldn’t have one anyway.
“The changes might be too subtle to detect,” Master Highland said. “How can we be sure?”
If the changes are too subtle to detect, Emily thought, do they even matter?
She was careful not to say that out loud. Master Highland would see it as an admission of guilt... although he might have some problems determining what she was actually guilty of. Not being Emily was hardly a crime... she shook her head. It didn’t matter. She needed a more convincing argument.
“I met you five months ago,” Emily said. Had it really only been five months? It felt as if a lifetime had passed since she’d left Whitehall. “You tried to convince me to give you the school—Heart’s Eye—in exchange for your vote. I told you that you could have a seat on the board instead.”
Master Highland looked dissatisfied. “That isn’t proof of anything...”
“That isn’t common knowledge,” Emily corrected. Master Highland would be a laughing stock if the truth got out. Trying to bully Emily into giving up the school was bad enough—trying and failing was worse. “No one outside the core group knew the truth until now.”
“But you might have...” Master Highland stumbled over his words as he tried to sort out a completely new concept. “Your duplicate might have split off from you after you came here. Now, I mean.”
“I don’t think so,” Emily said. Alt-Caleb had been tortured for years, although... theoretically, an Alt-Emily could have come from a third timeline. “I think I’m real.”
“I’m not disputing you’re real.” Master Highland snorted. “I’m concerned that you’re not you.”
“I am,” Emily insisted. She glanced at Frieda as her stomach rumbled. It had been too long since she’d eaten more than a quick snack. “I think we should get something to eat, then go back to the mirror.”
“And then what?” Master Highland said. “If we put him”—he jabbed a finger at the door—“back through the looking glass, will we get our Caleb back?”
“I don’t know,” Emily said. If they tried... they might have to try. “But we might have to find out.”
She thought, grimly, as they headed to the dining hall. There was an absence of hard data, nothing they could use to make educated guesses... she remembered all the fiction she’d read and shivered. Theoretically, there could be an infinite number of possible universes. Or as near to infinite as made no difference. She tried to visualize transdimensional space and groaned. The sheer scale of the problem was beyond her comprehension. If there was only one alternate universe, they might be able to trade Alt-Caleb for Caleb; if there were millions, they might never be able to locate their Caleb. She had a vision of countless universes stacked like building blocks, each one with their own Caleb. They might never know they had the right Caleb...
I slotted into this universe nicely, she thought. But I had no counterpart. There was no Native-Emily for me to displace. But... there was a Caleb here. Did Alt-Caleb displace him when he fell through the mirror...
Frieda nudged her. “Are you alright?”
“No.” Emily shook her head. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
Frieda frowned. “Why weren’t you replaced?”
“I’m glad you know I’m me,” Emily said. She smiled at her friend. “I...”
She broke off as Frieda’s question ran through her mind. Why hadn’t she been replaced? Or... why had Caleb been replaced? They’d both gone through the looking glass... twice, in her case. Logically, she should have been replaced...
Unless this really is a different universe, she mused. It made sense. Too much sense. And there’s an Alt-Emily back home, thinking she’s the real Emily.
She lowered her voice. “Who won the war?”
“Queen Alassa’s War?” Frieda sounded bemused by the question. “Queen Alassa, of course.”
“Of course,” Emily echoed. Maybe that was too big a change. Or too far in the past. The point of divergence might have been a great deal more recent. “Was I... did I lose my magic?”
“Yes.” Frieda gave her a sharp look. “And you got it back. You’re real.”
“I know I’m real,” Emily said. “But is this where I belong?”
Frieda squeezed her hand. “Don’t let Master Highland hear you say that.”
“I won’t.” Emily chuckled, then sobered. “But I might never be sure I found my way back home.”
She thought about it as they ate dinner. Why hadn’t she been replaced? If she was in another universe... she shook her head. Everything seemed to be the same. But, if it was the same... the question echoed though her mind, time and time again. Why hadn’t she been replaced?
I may never know, she told herself. She bounced a dozen questions off Frieda, finding no discrepancies... it proved nothing. If the only difference between the two universes was something tiny, something unnoticeable, Frieda might not know there was a difference. And the question will nag at me for the rest of my life.
Chapter Twenty-Three
THE MIRROR LOOKED... OMINOUS.
Emily told herself, firmly, that she was imagining it. The mirror looked exactly like any other mirror, at least to the naked eye. There were thousands just like it scattered throughout the building. But... she felt something wrong, something that kept eating at her. The magic within the mirror—whatever it was—was growing stronger.
And more mirrors might be coming to life, Emily mused. We may have to check them again.
She watched, grimly, as Hoban and Frieda organized the ropes. Everyone would be tied to the wall. No one would be sucked into the mirror and replaced this time. She tested the rope gingerly and decided it could hold her weight, if necessary, then turned her attention back to the mirror. It looked subtly wrong, as if it was slightly slanted. She frowned, wondering if the mirror was starting to come away from the wall. But when she checked, the mirror was still firmly affixed to the wall. No, it was part of the wall. There was no dividing line.
“Interesting,” Hoban commented. He stood in front of the mirror, his reflection looking back. “I’m not wearing a jacket.”
Emily’s eyes narrowed in alarm. Hoban wasn’t wearing a jacket, but his reflection was. “Be careful,” she said, grimly. “We saw different reflections before we were pulled into the mirror.”
“And kicked out somewhere else,” Master Highland grunted. He moved up and stood next to Hoban. “Am I not in the other world?”
“I can’t see your reflection,” Hoban said. “Curious, don’t you think?”
“Yeah.” Emily nodded, slowly. Master Highland should have been reflected in the mirror, but... it looked as though the other Hoban was alone. She couldn’t see herself in the background either. “If these are alternate worlds, or timelines, there may be worlds where some of us aren’t here.”
She glanced around the room. Cirroc and Seth were bringing in more ropes—as far as she could see, neither of them were reflected in the mirrors either. Frieda stood behind Hoban, ready to grab him; she was reflected in some of the mirrors, but not all of them. Her own reflection looked back at her, her face pensive. She couldn’t tell if they were gazing into a single alternate world or a dozen. Only one mirror felt wrong, but she suspected that was meaningless. They might all be linked to the mirror dimension.
Hoban glanced at her. “It feels like there’s a locking spell underneath the mirror,” he said, bluntly. “Did you and Caleb try to unlock it?”
“Yes.” Emily looked past him. Her reflection... didn’t look any different, as far as she could tell. “And then we were pulled into the mirror.”
Master Highland moved up next to her. “And you weren’t replaced. Why?”
“I don’t know,” Emily said. She wasn’t native to the Nameless World. Perhaps there were fewer alternate versions of her... she shrugged. It wasn’t something she wanted to discuss. “Perhaps the whole system is starting to break down.”
“I think we’re well aware of that,” Hoban said. “It wouldn’t be the first time ancient magic started to go wonky, without constant repair and maintenance. Whoever built this place didn’t leave any instructions behind...”
“Or they did, only to lose them when the school was invaded,” Cirroc pointed out. “We still haven’t found the necromancer’s lair.”
Master Highland gave him a sharp look. “For all we know, he was sleeping in the library.”
“That’s a bit upmarket for a necromancer, isn’t it?” Cirroc laughed. “Perhaps he was sleeping in the nexus chamber.”
“Perhaps,” Emily said.
“Lady Emily has been through a lot in the past six years.” Hoban smiled as he looked up from the mirror. “What if there’s only one Emily?”
“There’s certainly no one else called Emily,” Cirroc said.
Emily felt her cheeks heat. She had a feeling she knew what Hoban was talking about, but... she winced, inwardly. She’d have to ask anyway. “What do you mean?”
“In your first year, you survived a necromancer—you killed a necromancer.” Hoban studied her, thoughtfully. “Shadye killed a lot of powerful magicians, from older students to fully-trained combat sorcerers. You shouldn’t have survived. Would you care to know the odds of you emerging victorious from an encounter with a single necromancer?”
“No,” Emily said.
“Certain,” Frieda said. “She’s the Necromancer’s Bane.”
Hoban shrugged. “Time and time again, you beat the odds,” he said. “Perhaps”—he waved a hand at the mirror—“every other Emily died. Killed by Shadye, assassinated as part of a political plot, executed for treason... they died and so they no longer exist. You might be the sole Emily to survive. You weren’t replaced because there’s no one to replace you with.”
“If that were true...” Master Highland cleared his throat and started again. “If that were true, how would we be in Heart’s Eye now?”
“Perhaps Emily died freeing the school,” Hoban speculated. “Perhaps it was Emily who died, instead of Casper. Or...”
“But if Emily was killed by Shadye,” Cirroc said, “how could she have survived long enough to face Dua Kepala?”
Emily snorted as the argument grew tediously metaphysical. Hoban might have a point, but... logically, there would be hundreds of thousands of alternate versions of herself. Even if only one Emily survived each near-fatal encounter, that Emily would branch into hundreds of others soon enough. If each choice she made led to a split, to one universe branching into two... she shook her head. It was impossible to follow the argument for long. There should have been hundreds of alternates who could have replaced her.
And if I did die, back then, she asked herself, why would Caleb have come to Heart’s Eye?
Frieda nudged her. “I’m glad you survived.”
“Me too.” Emily kept her thoughts to herself. It was nice to know that Hoban was smart as well as handsome, but... he’d opened a box she would have preferred to stay closed. “There must be limits on who or what can be replaced.”
“Perhaps both of you have to be passing through the mirrors at the same time,” Frieda said. “And Caleb was merely unlucky.”
“Yeah.” Emily remembered Alt-Caleb’s fear and shuddered. She wasn’t going to sleep well, not tonight. “Or maybe we’re missing something.”
She sat back and watched as Hoban continued his work, teasing his magic into the mirror and carefully logging the response. It was starting to look as though the mirror did need to be triggered before it activated, although... none of the responses were particularly coherent. It was possible, Emily supposed, that they were keyed to one magician in particular... she shook her head. It was possible, but unlikely. Everyone who might have had access to the mirrors was long dead. Dua Kepala had killed them all.
Master Highland spoke briefly to Cirroc, then left the room. Emily watched him go, wondering where he was going. He wasn’t an enchanter or an alchemist, but... his help might have been useful. Or... she wondered, tiredly, if she should be glad he was going or concerned about what he might be doing. Caleb was gone. She had no way to know if she’d get him back. And...
Cirroc moved over to stand next to her. “A moment of your time?”
“Sure.” Emily led him back to the wall. “What’s up?”
“Watch your back.” Cirroc’s dark eyes were grim. “Master Highland is planning something. I can tell.”
Emily frowned. “What?”
“I don’t know.” Cirroc studied the mirrors thoughtfully. “He doesn’t confide in me that much—and anything he did say would be covered by master-apprentice bonds—but... he’s up to something. I just don’t know what.”
“And you’re risking your apprenticeship by talking to me,” Emily said, slowly. “Why...?”
“He hasn’t had much time for me lately.” Cirroc’s voice was light, but she could hear a grim undertone belaying his words. “And I don’t know how long I can wait before...”
Emily’s eyes narrowed. “Before what?”
“Bef
ore I have to make a fuss,” Cirroc said. “He should never have taken me as an apprentice if he didn’t have the time to teach me.”
“No.” Emily thought, fast. Cirroc was a friend, but he wasn’t a close friend. They were acquaintances, nothing more. She didn’t dislike him, but... she simply hadn’t spent much time with him. They had very little in common beyond attending the same school. Had Master Highland taken Cirroc as an apprentice in the hopes he could use the apprenticeship to manipulate Emily? “Did he ever ask you about me?”
“Yeah.” Cirroc looked embarrassed, although it was hard to be sure. He couldn’t blush. “I told him everything I know.”
Which wouldn’t have been that much, Emily mused. Or...
A thought struck her. Master Highland wouldn’t have asked Cirroc about her innovations. He wasn’t foolish enough to assume that she would have told Cirroc anything. Most magicians kept a few things to themselves, even from their nearest and dearest. And Master Highland wasn’t that kind of person. He didn’t think in terms of fancy spellwork or raw power. He thought in terms of political power and personalities... she felt her blood run cold. Master Highland would have asked about her time as Head Girl...
Which was an utter disaster, she thought, coldly. She would have been more upset if she’d wanted the job in the first place. Cirroc got the job after Jacquie and I proved... unsatisfactory.
She leaned forward. “What did you tell him?”
“I told you. Everything I knew.” Cirroc looked away. “Your life, your times...”
“My time as Head Girl,” Emily said. It wasn’t a question. “And how I messed up?”
“Yeah.” Cirroc didn’t look at her. “He wanted to know how you’d managed to mess it all up.”
“I’m sure he formed a pretty good opinion when he was at Whitehall himself,” Emily muttered. She’d been a terrible Head Girl. She hadn’t fought to keep her post because she’d never wanted it. But Heart’s Eye... she wanted Heart’s Eye. “If he makes a move... how much can you tell me?”
Mirror Image (Schooled in Magic Book 18) Page 22
