Lessons in Etiquette (Schooled in Magic series)

by Christopher Nuttall

  Thoughts and memories blasted up at her, each one slamming into her projection before she could look away. Alassa, standing with her parents; Alassa, meeting her cronies for the first time; Alassa, laughing as a maid became a toad in a flash of light. A storm of emotion crashed over Emily as she pushed onwards, first a sly enjoyment that became shame as the memories grew older. Alassa hadn’t realized just how much her cronies had taken advantage of her until she’d almost been killed by the Child of Destiny…

  That memory rose up and swallowed Emily. She stood, facing herself, rage blasting through her mind. How dare this newcomer be so much better than her? Alassa had never questioned herself until after she’d come so close to death…Emily tasted her fear and shame and hatred, tempered by the sudden awareness that Emily was important. The meeting she’d had with the grandmaster, the brief eternity spent facing the Warden, the letter she’d had from her parents…Emily tried to look away, but the memories kept coming. Alassa had been forced to take a good hard look at herself and she hadn’t liked what she’d seen.

  And then Emily had saved her life.

  “Alassa,” Emily called again, trying to hear her friend. “Where are you?”

  New memories surged around her. Alassa sitting on the bed, asking when her parents were going to come see her. Emily hadn’t realized that Alassa had almost been abandoned for the first five years of her life, even by her mother. She’d been brought up by nannies and maids who had done whatever they were told, spoiling the little princess rotten. Emily had known, intellectually, that royal children were often given to others to raise, but she’d never really understood what it did to their minds. By the time King Randor had reluctantly accepted that there would be no other heirs, legitimate or illegitimate, Alassa had already been warped into becoming a brat. She should have been trained from the start…

  The memories grew stronger. Zed, the Court Wizard, teaching her the first few spells. Alassa hadn’t realized that he had been growing exasperated with her; Emily, seeing through her friend’s eyes, understood perfectly why Zed had eventually given up. The royal brat just hadn’t had the patience to understand what she was being told. Or maybe Zed had been convinced not to push any further. He had always been more interested in alchemy than in teaching unwilling students how to cast spells…

  …Alassa’s first meeting with the daughters of the barons and how they’d fawned on her, treating her like a crowned queen. Emily could see that they were taking advantage of her, but Alassa had honestly never realized it. How could she? She’d never been taught how to tell when someone was crawling to her because they wanted something. Alassa learned to throw tantrums to get what she wanted, egged on by her first set of cronies…

  “Emily?”

  “I’m here,” Emily said. Her friend’s voice seemed to be coming from all around her, but as she concentrated she saw the path to Alassa’s soul. “What happened to you?”

  “Not sure,” Alassa said. “He took me, stunned me and then…everything went so strange.”

  “You’re under a spell,” Emily said. A final wave of memories struck at her, trying to force her back. She broke through and saw Alassa in front of her. Her friend seemed to be chained down, the force of the spell holding her in place. “You have to wake up.”

  “I don’t know how,” Alassa said, thickly. This deep in her core, the spell couldn’t prevent her from slowly recovering the ability to think. “I don’t…”

  Idiot, Emily told herself. You’re in a mental representation, not reality!

  Alassa’s voice was puzzled. “What’s a mental representation?”

  Emily flushed. Alassa had heard her thoughts? Of course, she reminded herself, tartly. This was a mental representation, not reality.

  “I’m inside your mind,” she said, finally. She concentrated hard, trying not to think about Jade or anything else she would have preferred to keep to herself. It wasn’t easy. “The spell is holding you trapped inside your own mind.”

  Saying it out loud made it easy to visualise. “You have to take control back,” she added. “Force yourself up and out of the spell’s grip.”

  Alassa rattled her chains. “I don’t know how,” she protested. “I can’t break free!”

  “This is your mind,” Emily reminded her. “The chains could be made of anything…”

  Reality–or her perception of reality–shifted. The chains were suddenly made out of parchment, which started to tear as Alassa pulled herself free. Emily felt her friend’s mind suddenly expanding, growing more and more powerful with every second, forcing Emily to travel back down the link into her own body. There was a sudden rush of energy and the world spun around her. When she opened her eyes–unaware that she’d closed them–she found herself looking down at Alassa.

  “What…” Alassa coughed and started again. “What did you do to me?”

  “I used some of your blood,” Emily admitted. Part of her mind insisted that it wasn’t wise to tell anyone, but Alassa would work it out for herself sooner or later–or tell Lady Barb, who would probably know enough to guess the truth. “It was the only way to find you.”

  Alassa rolled out of bed and stood upright. “I think I got some of your memories too,” she said. “What were the dragon-things in your homeland?”

  Emily stared at her. She hadn’t realized there was a possibility that Alassa would pick up memories from her too–although it would be only fair. But dragons? There were no dragons on Earth, unless they were very good at hiding. She’d certainly never seen a living dragon until after meeting Void.

  And how much had Alassa picked up from her thoughts?

  “I think we’ll have to discuss that later,” she said. She passed Alassa one of the swords, then walked towards the door. “We have to deal with the duke and find your father.”

  The guards outside were still frozen, thankfully. Emily picked up the other sword and held it in one hand, trying to decide if she should attempt to interrogate one of the guards. It would have been easy to take some of his blood and scan his mind…angrily, she squashed the thought before it could tempt her any further. The whole concept of Blood Magic was terrifyingly easy to abuse.

  “Coming,” Alassa said. She glanced up as the roaring grew louder. “You freed the cockatrice?”

  Emily grinned. “That should keep them busy for a while,” she said. “Where do we go now?”

  Alassa pushed one hand against a stone in the wall. There was a rumble as a stone slab moved to one side, allowing them to enter the secret passageway.

  “No,” Emily said. “If it is the duke, won’t he know about the passageways? They’ll expect us to use them and we’d be caught like rats in a trap.”

  “I don’t know,” Alassa said, hesitating. “The duke wouldn’t share everything he knows with his people…”

  “But it only takes a few guards to trap us,” Emily reminded her. “Come on.”

  She walked to the door leading into the main corridor and stepped outside. Alassa followed her as she started to walk down the corridor, listening carefully for sounds of oncoming guards. It wasn’t easy to hear anything over the roars that echoed through the castle; the entire city could probably hear the racket as the cockatrice fought for freedom. Could the beast actually break free? The cockatrice was strong, far stronger than a human…and the stories she’d read about dragons had talked about them tearing castles apart with their claws. Could the beast she’d unleashed do that?

  Emily held up a hand to stop Alassa as they reached a corner. Two armed guards were standing in front of another door, backed up by a magician carrying a long wooden wand. Both guards wore enchanted armor, she realized grimly–and they were nervous. Whatever they were guarding had to be important. King Randor? Emily had assumed that the duke had put his brother in the dungeons, but King Randor might have a secret way out of the dungeons. Why not? He could have easily had one installed that responded only to him.

  “I’ll deal with them,” she muttered. “You just sta
y here and watch my back.”

  She walked around the corner and threw the strongest disarming jinx she could muster at the magician, then followed up by hitting him with a freeze charm. His wand shattered under the impact, releasing a flash of raw magic; he couldn’t defend himself against the freeze charm at all. Not a real magician, Emily realized, as the guards turned to face her. The leers on their faces suggested that they might not take a girl carrying a sword very seriously, even though they’d seen her do magic. Emily smiled inwardly and triggered berserker.

  The guards had almost no time to react as she ran forward and swung the blade with superhuman strength. One of them jumped backwards, crashing into the wall; the other staggered as the blade cut deep into his chest. He collapsed to the ground as his companion hesitated, torn between fighting or running, then struck out at Emily with his sword. To Emily, it seemed almost as though he were moving in slow motion. It was the easiest thing in the world to step to one side and skewer him through the throat.

  She cancelled berserker and staggered, feeling the effects catching up with her. It was just too dangerous to use often, she reminded herself, even if she was stronger than she’d been when she’d started to learn the spell. Alassa came forward and put a hand on her shoulder, then looked at the door the guards had been watching. She didn’t look as though she knew what was inside either.

  “They won’t have left my father here,” she said, finally. “This is one of the bragging rooms.”

  Emily looked at her, puzzled.

  “Big room for the guests,” Alassa said. She found a key on one of the guards and inserted it into the lock. “They come here to tell lies about their great deeds…”

  The door clicked open, revealing Prince Hildebrand. He stared at Alassa, then started to laugh. Beyond him, Emily saw the other princes, sitting in the room. None of them looked very happy. They’d been taken prisoner and held for nearly two days. Chances were that holding them like that was a declaration of war. Or was it? Had anyone ever gone to war because a prince had been held prisoner? She honestly couldn’t remember.

  Prince Hildebrand hadn’t taken his eyes off Alassa. It struck Emily suddenly that they might feel ashamed of being saved by a woman, even though they obviously hadn’t been able to break free themselves. Prince Hedrick looked as dull-eyed as ever; the remaining princes came to their feet slowly, staring at their rescuers. Emily couldn’t think of what, if anything, they could say to them. Was an internal coup in Zangaria even their problem?

  “My father is a prisoner,” Alassa said, into the silence. “Will you help me to rescue him?”

  “Yes,” Prince Hildebrand said, simply.

  The other princes agreed quickly. Emily wanted to roll her eyes; she’d forgotten that they’d come to court Alassa, the Crown Princess of Zangaria. If they didn’t take part in the counter-coup, they’d have to explain their inactivity to King Randor, who would definitely not allow them to marry his daughter. Emily concealed her amusement as she motioned for the princes to take weapons from the guards, surrendering her sword to Prince Hildebrand. Alassa flatly refused to give her weapon to anyone else.

  “Take the armor too,” Emily ordered, after checking that there were no nasty surprises attached to the metal. “Hurry.”

  The princes hesitated. “Do as she says,” Alassa said, sharply. “Now.”

  Emily didn’t bother to hide her irritation as she led the way down the corridor. The roaring seemed to be fading away, leaving her wondering if they’d managed to do something about the cockatrice or if the beast was growing tired on its own. She’d ridden a dragon from Void’s tower to Whitehall and she’d never had the impression that the trip had tired the dragon, but the cockatrice was smaller…perhaps it could be exhausted. Or perhaps it had eaten everyone sent to stop it and then settled down for a nap.

  “There should be weapons in here,” Alassa said, as they reached a small storeroom. “Take what you need, then we can inch downstairs to the Great Hall.”

  The princes rapidly armed themselves, then formed a bodyguard around Alassa as they moved down the stairwell. Emily found herself feeling dangerously exposed, but they reached the lower floor without problems. There was a faint tinge of smoke in the air, suggesting that parts of the castle were still burning. Emily glanced from side to side, then picked the direction that should have led to the Great Hall.

  “Stop,” a voice bellowed. “This is none of your concern.”

  Emily saw one of the barons standing there, surrounded by armed soldiers. He must have meant the princes, Emily decided. The whole thought of a coup in her country not being of concern to Alassa was ludicrous.

  “You are a traitor to my father, breaking oaths you swore when he was crowned,” Alassa said, very coldly. If she had any doubts at all, they weren’t showing in her voice. “Surrender now and I promise that you will live.”

  But her father might not keep that promise, Emily thought. Alassa wouldn’t suffer if her father was the one to kill the baron–come to think of it, the barons couldn’t have sworn binding oaths to her father, or they would be dead by now. Unless the oaths had been neutralized somehow…she shook her head. Every time she thought she understood the rules, something changed.

  The baron gestured and his soldiers ran forward, slamming into the princes as they pushed Alassa back and shielded her. Emily watched the fight for a moment, then joined Alassa in hurling spells at the baron. His enchanted armor rapidly overloaded, leaving him unprotected. Alassa’s final curse tore off his head.

  “And so perish all traitors,” Alassa said, her voice shaky. The remaining guards threw down their weapon in surrender. “To the Great Hall!”

  The big stone doors were shut and warded, but the wards couldn’t keep out anyone who shared the Royal Bloodline. “Stay here and guard the entrance,” Alassa ordered the Princes. “Come inside if I call, but not before.”

  She opened the doorway wide enough to allow her and Emily to step inside before Emily could ask if leaving them outside was a good idea. The throne room was dimly lit–the only source of light was a fading light ball, floating up above the throne–but it was bright enough to allow them to see someone sitting on the throne. Alassa generated a light ball of her own and pushed it towards the figure, revealing the duke. He didn’t respond, even when Alassa hovered the light ball right over his head.

  “Stay here,” Emily muttered and walked up towards the duke. He didn’t respond at all as she neared him, then touched his forehead very lightly. It reminded her of how Alassa had also been held in a trance, but it seemed to be stronger in the duke’s case. He was a puppet whose strings had been cut. “I don’t understand.”

  “Someone could have been controlling him,” Alassa said. She shook her head in disbelief. “But that should have been impossible…”

  “They intended to control you,” Emily reminded her. What had the bird-magician intended to do with Alassa’s blood? Maybe the Royal Bloodline simply required more work before it could be used to control the blood donor. Emily hadn’t had any problems using the link between Alassa and some of her blood to find her, and then plunge into her mind. “What if…?”

  She saw the shimmer, an instant too late. Someone was right behind Alassa…a second later, there was a sword at the princess’s throat. Alassa froze, almost as if someone had cast a freeze charm on her. Emily stared as the invisibility spell faded away, revealing a young woman with red-gold hair.

  “Welcome back, Your Highness,” Duchess Lithia said. Her face twisted into a wry smile as she looked over at Emily. “I’d advise you not to move, or to try magic. I could slit her throat and…well, where would we be then?”

  Chapter Forty

  DUCHESS,” EMILY SAID. SOMETHING IN HER mind yammered at her to keep the woman talking, at least until she could get the sword away from Alassa’s throat. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m taking control,” Duchess Lithia said. She snorted, rather rudely. “You’re really not very clever, are you?
What does it look like I’m doing?”

  Emily flushed. She’d discounted the duchess, everyone had. Duchess Lithia might have married the duke, but she’d never been part of the Royal Bloodline. King Randor had insisted on it, Emily had been told, just to ensure that Alassa wouldn’t end up with cousins who might have a claim to the throne. Under the circumstances, it might not have been a very smart move.

  “You had access to your husband’s blood,” Emily said, very slowly. The bird-magician had clearly thought that he could control Alassa. Why not the duke? “That’s how he was able to lie to his brother. He didn’t know that he was lying.”

  “He issued the orders to have you killed,” the duchess confirmed. “You do seem to have a habit of surviving through dumb luck.”

  She smiled. “Crow was very unimpressed with you,” she added. “He thought that you were madly overrated. But you did break into the castle…”

  Stall for time, Emily told herself. “Why are you doing this? What’s the point of it all?”

  “Power,” Alassa croaked. “She’s the daughter of one of the barons. They could take control of the country using her as their weapon.”

  “And turning you into a puppet,” the duchess confirmed. “Of course, you wouldn’t last very long. The barons misread the threat from the Line of Alexis once before. They won’t do it again.”

  “You’d be the last survivor,” Emily said, slowly. “The king and queen would be dead. The duke would be dead. Alassa would be dead, presumably after nominating you her successor. You’d be all that was left of the Royal Family. The barons would acclaim you queen and then divide the country up between themselves.”

  “And destroy those who spread the new knowledge,” the duchess said. “Didn’t you ever realize, Child of Destiny, how much of this is your fault?”

  Emily nodded ruefully, never taking her eyes off the duchess.

  The duchess smiled, coldly. “They wanted to make sure that no one respected Queen Alassa,” she added. “The girl who grew up here was a brat, with a reputation that they spread far beyond the castle walls. But then she met you and…I heard King Randor cursing, the day he realized just what you’d done. If he’d known that it would take a near-death experience to convince Alassa to grow up, he would have dropped her out of a window.”