The Zero Equation

by Christopher Nuttall

  I swallowed as the implications dawned on me.

  “Rule by the strong implies rule by the idiotic,” Magister Niven said. His voice was very quiet, but it still chilled me to the bone. “And if the magic goes away, civilisation will fall into their hands.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “What’s it like on the farm?” I asked Rose, that evening. We were sitting in the library, eying our mountain of homework with dismay. “I mean ... as a girl.”

  Rose gave me an odd look. “Hard,” she said. “You saw the farm near the Eternal City, remember? We barely did a fraction of the work the inhabitants did.”

  “I remember,” I said. I’d spent a lot of time forging, but still ... the inhabitants had looked old, beaten down by time. Even the kids my age had looked a few years older. “I wouldn't want to live there.”

  “It has its advantages,” Rose said. “But also its disadvantages.”

  She reached for a book, then stopped herself. “What brought that on?”

  “Long story,” I said. I couldn't tell her the truth. “Do you think if I ran away, a farm would take me in?”

  “You’d be noticeable if you went more than a hundred or so miles into the interior,” Rose pointed out. “And if you stayed close to Shallot you’d be noticeable anyway.”

  “I suppose,” I said. I looked around the study room, hoping to see something - anything - that would distract me from my homework. “If we were to go ...”

  There was a knock on the door. I winced. It was probably a set of upperclassmen, ready to kick us out and take the study room for themselves. Their mocks were coming up too and they had to study. Ours were far less serious ... not that that would stop Mum and Dad asking pointed questions if we failed. I tensed as the door opened, then relaxed - slightly - as Bella stepped into the room, dragging Alana behind her. My sister didn't look pleased, but she wasn't trying to resist. I felt a flicker of panic. Just how badly had her magic been drained?

  “Alana has something she wants to say to you, Cat,” Bella said. She pushed Alana towards a chair, then glanced at Rose. “Can you give them some privacy?”

  Rose looked at me. “Cat ...?”

  I shrugged. Alana looked ... a little subdued. Normally, she would have hexed Bella - or anyone - rather than let Bella drag her around by the arm. And yet ... I studied her for a long moment. The bruises were gone, and she was no longer limping, but there was a haunted look in her eyes. She’d come far too close to complete disaster and she knew it.

  “I should be fine,” I said, shooting her a smile. It was a relief to know that Rose had been prepared to stay with me, even if it meant pitting herself against both Alana and Bella. She was a good friend. “If you want to look up a couple of copies of Tumble’s Guide to Spellcasting ...?”

  “I can try,” Rose said.

  “They’ll be in the archive,” Bella said. “I’ll help you.”

  I watched Rose and Bella leave, then looked at Alana. She was clenching her right hand so tightly that her skin was starting to darken. Her face was expressionless, yet her stance ... I wasn't sure if she was really beaten down or just trying to fake it. She hadn't looked so bad after Mum had grounded her for a month for casting cruel spells on me.

  Alana lifted her fist and held it over the table, then uncurled it gingerly. The earring I’d given her fell out of her palm and landed on the wood. I blinked in surprise, then reached for the earring and picked it up. The gemstone was still glowing, faintly. Alana hadn't broken it, then. I was surprised to discover that I’d never expected to see the earring again.

  “Thank you,” Alana said, quietly. “That ... was helpful.”

  “I thought it might be,” I said, suddenly unsure what to say. I knew Alana and Bella, but now ... it felt as if my sisters had been replaced by strangers. “Did the healer check for curses?”

  “She said there shouldn't be any long-term effects,” Alana said. She sounded relieved. It took me a moment to realise that she wasn't just relieved about the absence of curses. “I’m still a little sore, but I should be better tomorrow.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” I said. “Did you tattle?”

  Alana looked surprised. “Of course not.”

  I rolled my eyes at her. If Isabella had hexed her - or one of the other firsties - I would have understood completely. Better to plot revenge at a later date than get a reputation for being a sneak. But upperclassmen ... they were so far above her that revenge was hopeless. Unless Alana managed to point Robin in their direction ... I supposed she could do that, if she wished. But it wouldn't be her revenge.

  “Fine,” I said. I looked down at my books, then up at her. “What do you want?”

  “I ... I’m sorry,” Alana said. “I’ve been a little ...”

  I tried not to smile. “Stregheria?”

  “Yes,” Alana said. “I could have been a little Stregheria.”

  We shared an odd little laugh. “Bella said I was lucky you came to my rescue,” Alana said, when she’d finished giggling. “I think she was right.”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “She also said I should apologise,” Alana added. “I’ve been a little Stregheria to you.”

  I felt a hot flash of anger. “Yes, you have. Do you remember how you felt, hanging in the air? That’s how I felt all the time!”

  Alana recoiled, slightly. “I ... I didn't know,” she said. “I ...”

  “Spare me your excuses,” I growled. “You were an unpleasant little brat from the moment you realised I didn't have any magic. And the only reason you’re trying to apologise now is that I saved you from public humiliation!”

  “I thought that you needed to be somewhere else,” Alana said. “And I was wrong.”

  I glared at her. “Is that meant to make me feel better?”

  “I was wrong,” Alana repeated. “And I’m sorry!”

  “How nice,” I said. I wanted to shout at her. It was all I could do to keep my voice even. “Do you have enough magic to change the past? To go back in time and give your past self a kick up the backside? Or even just to tell me about my talents before I spent five years thinking I was useless?”

  “I ...”

  I grabbed the spellcaster and held it up. “You told me that your very first act as Matriarch would be to turn me into a frog permanently, then go around telling everyone that you only ever had one sister,” I reminded her. “Do you think that sorry is enough to make up for it?”

  Alana flinched. “I was wrong!”

  “Yes,” I said. “And perhaps I was wrong not to let that ... that Wakefield girl teach you a lesson!”

  “No,” Alana said. “You did the right thing.”

  I pointed the spellcaster at her. “Get out!”

  Alana held up her hands, spreading her fingers wide to show me she wasn't trying to cast a hex. “Dad said we should try to get along better,” she said. “And I’m trying ...”

  “Very trying,” I agreed, dryly.

  I felt ... I wasn't sure how I felt. How dare she come along and assume that a simple apology would be enough to make it all better! The only thing she could have done to make me happy would be to go away. And yet, part of me wanted to be friends with my sisters. I’d made up with Bella. Could I not make up with Alana?

  “You were practicing your hexes on me from the moment you learnt to cast them,” I reminded her. “And you told me that I didn't belong in the family!”

  “I know what I did,” Alana said. Her face twisted. “I ...”

  “Then you also know why it’s hard for me to accept your apology,” I snapped. “Why should I accept your apology?”

  Alana stood. “I won’t be ... unpleasant to you any longer,” she said. “And I’m sorry.”

  She turned and walked towards the door, holding her back ramrod straight. It dawned on me that she expected me to hex her in the back ... a more serious threat than a normal hex, perhaps, because of what I’d told the upperclassmen my spellcaster could do. I felt my fin
gers itching, demanding to jab the spellcaster at her ... I pushed the urge aside, watching as she opened the door and walked outside. I sagged back into my chair as soon as she closed the door behind her, suddenly feeling very tired. It had been a very long day.

  The door opened, again. Rose stepped into the room.

  “Alana didn't look happy,” she said, once she’d closed the door. “What happened?”

  “She tried to apologise to me,” I told her. “For everything.”

  Rose sat down, smoothing her long skirt. “And you said no?”

  “I told her that an apology wasn't enough to make up for everything she’d done,” I said, looking towards the closed door. I was half-expecting Bella to drag Alana into the room again. The old Bella wouldn't have done anything of the sort, but the new Bella was unpredictable. “And ... I don't know what to make of it.”

  I choked back a sob. I’d wanted to be friends with my sisters. Of course I’d wanted to be friends with my sisters. But the handful of moments when we'd been sisters in truth, as well as in name, had been few and far between and eventually stopped altogether. It was too late to repair the damage.

  Rose reached out and touched my hand, lightly. “Do you want some advice?”

  My eyes opened wide. Very few people would give someone familial advice, certainly not to someone who wasn't part of their family. No matter how close they were ... it just wasn't done! Rose had committed a severe breach of etiquette, one I’d have to warn her about later ...

  ... But I found it hard to care. I’d never liked etiquette lessons. And it wasn't as if I’d ever get the chance to use most of those wretched lessons anyway.

  “Sure,” I said. “What do you have to say?”

  Rose took a breath. “You and Alana are family, whether you like it or not,” she said. “You even look somewhat alike.”

  I had to laugh. “I have never been so insulted in all my life.”

  “I find that hard to imagine,” Rose said, primly. The effect was spoiled when she started to giggle. “My point is that the two of you are sisters, bound together by blood. You’re not going to be able to get rid of her and she’s not going to be able to get rid of you.”

  “How true,” I said, sourly.

  Rose squeezed my hand. “My point, Cat, is that it’s probably a good time to mend your relationship.”

  “You think that too?” I asked. Bella probably wanted Alana and I to get along too. “And after everything she’s done?”

  Rose met my eyes. “Cat ... last year, you were a powerless Zero,” she said. “You didn't have any power at all. Now ... everyone knows your talents and accepts them.”

  “They want to make use of them,” I reminded her.

  “You have an acceptance now you didn't have last year,” Rose said. “You are no longer a powerless freak--” I flinched “--but a respected person in your own right. I’d say you’re more important to your family, to everyone, than either of your sisters. You and Alana are practically equals now. Why not try to mend fences now?”

  “Strong fences make good neighbours,” I muttered. It was one of Dad’s more cynical observations. “She’s a little brat.”

  “A brat who’s going to be part of your family for a very long time to come,” Rose said, dryly. “How long do members of your family live?”

  I shrugged. Great Aunt Stregheria was in her second century and she wasn't the only one, although Great-Granddad Archie was practically senile. He’d called me by my mother’s name, the last time I’d met, winking and nodding about some appalling crime my mother had committed as a young girl. I had the distant feeling that he had been something of a trial to his daughter, my grandma, even before his mind had started to slip. But - I dragged my mind back to the subject at hand with an effort - I might have to put up with Alana for a century or so myself.

  Unless I don’t have such a long lifespan, I thought. The stronger the magician, the longer the life. It was a rule, although no one really understood how and why it worked. But I had no power at all. I might not live any longer than the average commoner.

  “A long time,” I said, instead. “I’ve got relatives who are over a hundred years old.”

  A shadow crossed Rose’s face, just for a second. “Then you and Alana will be sisters for another eighty-eight years, at least,” she said. There was something in her voice that bothered me. “Do you really want to spend those years feuding like ... like twelve-year-old girls?”

  I frowned. “I ...”

  Rose met my eyes. “How many of the stupid feuds tearing the city apart exist because the people on one side or the other were too dumb or stubborn to reach out to their rivals?”

  “It isn't like that,” I protested.

  “It might be,” Rose said. “Ten years from now ... you’ll have kids. So will she. Twenty-two years from now, those kids will be feuding because their mothers hate each other. And then their kids will be feuding too. And then their grandkids ...”

  “You’ve made your point,” I growled. “But ... what should we do?”

  I looked down at the floor. “How would your community handle this?”

  “My father would have boxed our ears by now, if I’d started a feud with my brother,” Rose told me. “There just isn't room in the community for a long-term feud. Everyone has to work together. Adults who can't stand each other know that, Cat. And the handful who don’t are often told to behave or get out. No one is greater than the community.”

  It sounded like a mantra. I raised my eyebrows.

  “Everyone gets together to discuss matters that affect us all; everyone gets to talk and say their piece,” Rose said. “And afterwards, we take a vote. And everyone abides by the community’s decision.”

  It didn't sound very sensible to me. “And what happens when the community votes to share out your property?”

  Rose laughed. “What property?”

  The door opened before I could think of a response. Akin stepped into the room, looking tired. His blazer was missing and there was a burn mark on his shirt. I hoped it was a forging accident, rather than a particularly nasty hex. The former would be bad, true, but the latter would represent a dangerous escalation.

  Alana was already attacked, I reminded myself. Someone might have targeted Akin in retaliation.

  “Alana has been trying to make up with Cat,” Rose said, before I could say a word. “Is that not a good thing?”

  Akin shrugged. “I suppose it depends on just what prompted it,” he said. He sat down, his eyes meeting mine. “Does she mean it, or is she trying to take advantage of you?”

  I wanted to say yes, Alana was trying to take advantage of me. But ... I wasn't sure. Alana would never feel at ease baring her soul to me, unlike Rose. She’d be reluctant to say anything too clearly for fear it would be used against her. And ... I knew she could tell convincing lies. She would have tried to be more convincing, I thought, if she’d been lying.

  Unless that’s what she wants me to think, I told myself. She might have tried to put up a false facade ...

  I shook my head, firmly. That sort of thinking led to madness. Besides, Alana had never been that subtle with me. She’d never had to be clever. She had magic, powerful magic. I didn't have magic. And that was all there was to it.

  “You might want to try,” Akin said. He looked pained. “My relationship with my sister disintegrated when it became clear that I’d be the Heir Primus and never really recovered. I regret that, I think.”

  Rose blinked. “You think?”

  “We were friends, once upon a time,” Akin said. “I’d like to have that back. But I can't give her what she wants and I’m unwilling to change into ... into what she wants me to be. So I just ... hope she’ll grow out of it, eventually.”

  “Ouch,” I said. I felt a stab of pity, despite myself. I’d understand refusing to elect someone who behaved badly, but rejecting someone because they were a girl? It was alien to me. “At least Alana has a reasonable chance of becoming Matriarc
h.”

  Akin nodded. “And Isabella doesn't see why we’re friends.”

  Rose grinned. “What did you tell her?”

  “We have interests in common,” Akin said. He smiled at me. “Which is true.”

  “Yes,” I said. I paused as a thought occurred to me. “Perhaps I should try and befriend her.”