The Zero Equation

by Christopher Nuttall

  Rose studied the scroll for a long moment. “So why did they send the scroll to me?”

  “Good question,” I said. None of the answers that came to mind were very flattering. Rose’s family might be considered an irrelevance, as far as House Bolingbroke was concerned. Or they might have wanted to rush Rose into an agreement when her parents might be a little more careful. “They might have expected my father to act on your behalf ...”

  “It doesn't matter,” Rose said. “Can you help me draft a formal rejection?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I’ll just have to look up the current form to make sure I get it right.”

  “Thank you, Cat,” Rose said. She held up the scroll. “What should I do with this?”

  “Put it in your trunk,” I advised. “If someone else makes an offer for you, you can use it to demand a higher price.”

  “You make it sound like a business transaction,” Rose commented.

  “It is,” I said, bluntly. “The Great Houses see marriage as just another way of trading power and influence.”

  I frowned as she tucked the scroll away in her blazer pocket. The offer was good, far too good. And that meant ... what? Rose was a good investment, but ... she was hardly the only promising new student in Jude’s. Had my father said a few words in the right set of ears? Or ... what about Akin’s father? He’d suggested finding Rose a husband, hadn't he?

  “Let’s go,” Rose said. “Everyone’s playing netball at the moment. The library will be crowded later.”

  I nodded and stood, shrugging off my blazer. “Is there blood on my shirt?”

  Rose looked. “A little,” she said. “What happened?”

  “She scratched me,” I said. “Her fingernails are very sharp.”

  “Oh,” Rose said. She sounded as if she was trying not to laugh. “That’s ... bad.”

  “Yes.” I checked the inside of my blazer, then the outside. It didn't look as though Alana had actually managed to damage it. “I’ll have to make sure to wipe it up later.”

  Rose nodded as I pulled the blazer back on. “Do you want to go to the infirmary?”

  “No,” I said. As long as I cleaned up the blood, it shouldn't pose a problem. It wasn't as if I was in real pain. I certainly didn't want to give Alana the satisfaction of knowing she’d sent me for medical help again. “Let’s go.”

  The corridors felt oddly quiet as we walked up the stairs. I glanced from side to side, half-hoping we’d spot Akin. I owed him an apology for Alana’s behaviour, if nothing else. If we went back to the workroom ... I considered it for a moment, then decided that writing Rose’s letter was more important. House Bolingbroke needed to be told about the rejection as quickly as possible, if there was no room for negotiation. If their grand dames were anything like our grand dames, they’d be planning the wedding already.

  Which would have been at least five years in the future, I thought. I didn't think House Bolingbroke could have pressed Rose to finish her schooling earlier, but they might have tried. I shrugged. It’s all immaterial now.

  “I’m sorry about my sister,” I said, to Rose. “Did you and Bella have a good time?”

  “It wasn't bad,” Rose said. “But she doesn't explain things as well as you.”

  I nodded. “I had to learn everything from first principles,” I told her. “Ironically, it was excellent training for forging Objects of Power.”

  We passed a statue of a man with a beard that fell down to the ground and a faintly desperate expression on his face, positioned next to a passageway that had been secret, once upon a time. No one knew who the man actually was, according to the small plaque under his feet, but he’d saved the school a few hundred years ago. It made me wonder just how much else had been lost over the years. How many questions would remain forever unanswered because vital books and records had been lost?

  Like the secret of Objects of Power, I thought. But we solved that mystery, eventually.

  Rose nudged me. “Upperclassmen.”

  I tensed. A set of boys ... fifth or sixth years, at a guess ... ambling down the corridor as though they owned the place. They’d probably been playing football, I guessed. They were wearing sweaty shorts and shirts rather than their uniforms. I was surprised they hadn't showered before leaving the Arena. Perhaps they thought the showers in their dorms were better. I’d heard the Arena’s showers were always cold or dribbled unpleasantly. It was a relief that sports were not compulsory.

  The boys stopped, their faces suddenly alarmed. I tensed as they grabbed for the focusing devices on their belts. Were they frightened of me? It didn't seem likely. And then I heard someone behind me ...

  ... And then the first hex slammed into my back.

  Chapter Twenty

  The bracelet grew warm on my arm.

  “Get down,” I shouted at Rose. More hexes were flying over my head, smashing into the football players. “Hurry!”

  Rose didn't need to be told twice. We hit the floor together, hard enough to hurt. My bracelet warmed as something passed very close to me, close enough to make my hair want to stand on end. The air started to heat as red flashes of light darted overhead, striking the boys I’d seen ...

  I looked from side to side desperately, trying to find a way out. There seemed to be two groups of upperclassmen ... no, three. Dad had tried to teach me how to read a duel, but this was no duel. Rules seemed to have been forgotten as the upperclassmen lashed into each other, magic flashing and flaring around them. Terror roared at the back of my mind as I tried to crawl towards the wall. I’d known I was powerless since I was very young, but this ...

  Rose snapped off a spell. I wasn't sure who she was aiming at, or why, but her target had no trouble batting it away. He struck back, firing a sickly green hex at her. Rose screamed as her body morphed into a slug, the transformation actually hurting her. I stared in horror, then reached desperately for the dispeller. There were too many big feet around. Someone might easily step on her and then ... what? She’d be dead.

  The bracelet heated, again. I looked up and glared at the upperclassman, then slashed the dispeller through the air. His hex came apart in a shower of sparks. He stared at me in shock, suddenly realising that he’d tried to hex someone five years younger than himself. I took advantage of his distraction to discharge one of my spell-rings in his direction, then undo the spell on Rose before it was too late. She looked utterly terrified as her body returned to normal. Even now, she wasn't used to having her body reshaped on a whim.

  “We need to move,” I shouted at her, catching her arm. “This way!”

  I pulled her towards me, shouting all the time. I wasn't sure she heard me over the deafening racket. The noise was growing louder, pieces of debris falling from the ceiling and adding to the chaos. A light crystal exploded as it overloaded ... I gritted my teeth, hoping it didn't mean that the local ward network was collapsing. If that had been damaged, the battle might threaten the school itself. I didn't think that magic held the school together, but I wouldn't have cared to gamble on it. The school had been a home for magic for so long that power had infused into the walls.

  Rose’s eyes were alight with panic. She shouted something at me, but I couldn’t hear her either. I wasn't even sure where we were going. The corridor seemed to be blocked at both ends, as if the two sides - or three sides - were determined not to break. There didn't seem to be any other way out, either. All we could do was cling to the walls and hope to be overlooked ...

  “STOP USING MAGIC,” a voice said. My bracelet warmed, again. “STAND UP. PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD. BE SILENT.”

  Rose pulled free of me and stood, moving as if she was no longer in command of her own body. The deluge of hexes - and noises - came to a sudden stop, leaving my ears ringing. I looked down the corridor and sucked in my breath. Upperclassmen were standing, resting their hands on their heads. The Castellan stood beyond them, holding a Device of Power in one hand. I recognised the weird design and swallowed a word I knew I wasn't supp
osed to know. Compellers were rare and difficult to forge - I’d never forged one - but they were powerful and dangerous. Anyone without specific protections, or a very strong will, would find themselves doing whatever they were told to do.

  And even using the device requires strong magic, I reminded myself, as I stumbled to my feet. I’d never doubted the Castellan’s power, but still ... The look he gave me made it clear that he knew I wasn't affected. I wasn't sure I’d have been affected for very long even if I hadn't had the bracelet. My resistance might not be that much stronger than the average students, but magic simply didn't cling to me. And Alana gave me plenty of practice in resisting compulsions.

  The Castellan strode forward. His eyes lingered on me and Rose for a long second, then turned to the upperclassmen. I followed his gaze, trying to read his feelings in his impassive face. It was so still that I knew he was angry. He had a power - and a presence - second only to my father. But then, the Triad wouldn't have selected a weakling to run the school. I groaned, inwardly, as he turned his gaze to the scorched and battered walls. We hadn't caused the fight, but ... we were in trouble anyway. I knew it.

  “You are supposed to be upperclassmen,” the Castellan said. “You are supposed to be responsible students, charged with keeping an eye on the lowerclassmen. Tell me ... just what were you thinking?”

  His voice was icy calm. His eyes bored into the nearest upperclassman. I was relieved he wasn't looking at me like that. I felt guilty even though I knew the fight wasn't my fault. His tone made me want to quail, to throw myself on my knees and beg for mercy. I tried to figure out a way to escape, but he’d seen me. And besides, Rose was still spellbound. I was unwillingly impressed that the Castellan had managed to compel so many upperclassmen for so long.

  “They were provoking us,” the upperclassman managed. He sounded shocked. I wasn't sure if he was surprised the fight had turned so nasty or stunned that the Castellan had managed to bring them to heel so easily. “We ...”

  “And so you decided to have a fight in the corridors,” the Castellan said. “A fight that included two firsties, no less.”

  He looked at me for a long moment, then turned away. “You are supposed to be upperclassmen,” he repeated. “And yet, you do this.”

  His words hung in the air for a long chilling moment. “You will all, all of you, report to Skullion for two weeks' detention. You will spend the time washing the floors and cleaning the toilets. With toothbrushes. I’m sure the cleaning staff will be happy with a couple of weeks' paid leave while you do all the work. Or would you rather spend the time in the stocks?”

  There was a long chilling pause. I felt my heart sink. I’d cleaned floors before, for punishment, and I’d hated it. And Rose and I would be doing it with a bunch of upperclassmen ... no doubt they’d try to push as much of the work onto us as they could. I doubted we’d be supervised that closely. Upperclassmen were supposed to be responsible ... the thought made me want to snort. This bunch of upperclassmen had been far from responsible.

  The Castellan snapped his fingers. Rose started, her legs buckling. She would have fallen if I hadn't put out an arm to catch her. The upperclassmen didn't seem to have taken the enchantment any better. They were rubbing their arms, doing their best to hide their anger and embarrassment. A couple looked as if they were on the verge of crying.

  An older boy stepped forward. “Sir ...”

  The Castellan glared. “Yes?”

  “The firsties were caught in the middle,” the older boy said. I realised, with a shock, that he was the one who’d hexed Rose. “They weren't involved in the fight.”

  “That’s true,” another upperclassman said, desperately. I guessed he’d been on one of the other sides. “They were just ... there.”

  “That isn't much of an improvement,” the Castellan said. He looked at me, then switched his gaze to Rose. “Very well. They will not be included in the punishment. But do not make the mistake of thinking that I will go lightly on you because you spoke up for them.”

  He met my eyes. It was all I could do not to look away.

  “I’ll be calling an assembly in thirty minutes,” he added, never taking his eyes off me. “Report to the Great Hall and wait.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said.

  I led Rose down the corridor as quickly as I could, without giving the impression I was running. I didn't think I fooled anyone. I’d been protected, but ... the protections might not have lasted. I had no way to calculate just how many hexes they could absorb. And yet, I could have given Rose one of the spare bracelets and simply walked through the hexes ... I kicked myself, mentally. I should have thought of that, shouldn't I? But there were ways to get around my protections ...

  Rose staggered as soon as we were out of earshot. “That was ... awful,” she said. “My arms weren't doing as they were told.”

  “I know how it feels,” I said. She looked pale. I hoped she wasn't going to throw up. “We have to keep moving.”

  I forced myself to think as we stumbled on. The Castellan was going to get in real trouble for using a Compeller on us. Writing lines were fine, scrubbing floors were fine ... Compellers were anything but. Under normal circumstances, the Great Houses would demand his immediate removal. And they’d get it too. Now ...

  He knew the risks and did it anyway, I thought. The Great Houses might be fighting a war, but a threat to their children might be enough to convince them to put their differences aside and unite against a common foe. Was he hoping to end the war ... or did he see no other way to end the fight?

  I swallowed, hard, as we walked into the Great Hall. The fight had been savage, nastier - in many ways - than our running battle with Fairuza’s servants. I didn't want to think about how many upperclassmen had come close to being seriously injured ... had anyone come close to being injured? I hadn't been paying attention, but it would be a minor miracle if no one had been scratched. And we’d been caught in the middle. I felt my limbs begin to shake as we sat down in the front row. We could have been seriously injured.

  The hall filled up slowly. This time, there were no upperclassmen helping to chide the younger students into the chamber. I wondered, grimly, just what it meant for the school if the teachers could no longer count on the upperclassmen to keep order. They were supposed to be responsible ... I shook my head. The Castellan had said that, twice, but I doubted he believed it any longer. The upperclassmen were part of the problem now.

  Akin sat next to us. “What happened?”

  “Long story,” I said. It had only been twenty minutes - less, perhaps - but rumours would already be flying around the school. “A bunch of upperclassmen started fighting and we were in the middle of it.”

  His eyes went wide. “Are you all right?”

  I exchanged a glance with Rose. “It could have been worse,” I said. “We nearly got to share in their punishment.”

  Alana and Bella walked in, closely followed by Isabella. Alana shot me a nasty look when she saw the three of us together, but she seemed to have the sense to keep her mouth shut. I saw a nasty-looking bruise just above her mouth, where I’d smacked her. She clearly hadn't bothered to go find a healing salve either. I wondered, absently, just what Bella had said to her. Had she told Alana about Rose’s betrothal?

  Which isn't even going to get off the ground, I thought. But Alana might be jealous anyway.

  I shook my head, carefully ignoring my sisters. We didn't need another fight, certainly not one in public. But would Alana be jealous? It was unlikely that any of us would be betrothed, certainly not in a hurry. There weren’t many families who had something we needed, something that they could leverage to demand a betrothal in exchange. Alana would have to wait until her Season before she could start talking about marriage in earnest.

  And we’re still too young, I reminded myself. We can wait ...

  A wave of silence washed across the chamber. I looked up. The Castellan was standing on the stage, clasping his hands behind his back. He’d cha
nged into his formal robes, somewhere along the way. The red and gold suited him, I thought. But it also made him look hellishly intimidating.

  “Not even one hour ago, two groups of upperclassmen decided to have a fight,” the Castellan said, coolly. “They didn't claim Student’s Rights. They didn't arrange a time and a place for a contest to settle the issue. They just attacked each other on sight, using spells that are forbidden within the school ... forbidden with good reason, I might add. Such behaviour cannot be tolerated.”

  My heart leapt into my mouth. Fighting in the corridors was bad enough, but using forbidden spells ...? That was worse. It was the first sign that someone might eventually become a warlock. And they’d set a bad example too. The Castellan was right. There was nothing stopping the upperclassmen from arranging a formal duel, if they’d wished. Instead, they’d just crashed into each other.

  I blinked as I caught up with his words. Two groups?