But at least I’m getting somewhere, she thought.
She kept working on it until the class finally came to an end, then asked to borrow a pair of additional stones from Professor Clifton to continue practicing in private. Professor Clifton agreed, checked her anchorstone, then nodded approvingly. It helped that only a handful of other students had managed to create the ward perfectly. Emily thanked him gravely, then headed out of the door and down to the refectory. She’d arranged to meet Frieda for lunch.
“Hey,” Claudia called, as she entered the refectory. “You left us very early.”
“Yes,” Emily said, irked. It had been two days since she’d left–and Claudia was only now speaking to her about it. “And so...?”
“We would like to have you as a member,” Claudia said. “And so we brought you a gift.”
She passed Emily a roll of parchment. Emily opened it to discover a list of instructions for several spells. Some of them she knew already, others were unfamiliar. One of them, she suspected, was the hypnotic spell.
“Come with us next weekend,” Claudia asked. “You can learn with the rest of us.”
“I suppose I could,” Emily said, with a sigh. “But I don’t know what I can offer in return.”
Claudia snorted rudely. “When you’re an older student, help mentor the younger ones,” she said, dryly. “That’s what the quarrel is for.”
Chapter Nineteen
EMILY WAS MORE TIRED THAN SHE’D expected by the time Zed finally let her out of alchemy tutoring, but she managed to work up the energy to have a shower as soon as she returned to Raven Hall. His warnings about the dangers of some of the ingredients they’d worked with hung in her mind, to the point she’d almost forgotten about her agreement with Frieda. But thankfully she managed to remember before Frieda could either remind her or conclude that Emily had simply been making promises she had no intention of keeping.
The spellchamber attached to Raven Hall was little different from the ones she’d seen at Whitehall, although some of the confinement and protective spells were a little weaker, as if the older students were expected to maintain them themselves. Emily was surprised–it was an odd oversight–but chose to ignore it in favor of talking to Frieda. The younger girl looked starkly terrified after entering the chamber and closing the door. It puzzled Emily until she recalled just how the dueling classes had been used as excuses for bullying.
“Sit down on the mat,” Emily said. She had no intention of trying any form of physical training, not until Frieda had put some more meat on her bones at the very least. “And put your wand away... no, give it to me.”
Frieda looked reluctant, but surrendered her wand without a fight. Emily took the wand, placed it in her belt and leaned forward.
“Watch,” she said, and cast a light globe into the air. “I’ve yet to find a spell that cannot be cast without a wand.”
“But I need the wand,” Frieda said, mournfully. “I...”
“No, you don’t,” Emily said. She was tempted to snap the wand in two, but she had a feeling that Frieda would react badly. “You just think you do. I want you to try to cast the spell without using a wand.”
Frieda moved her hand in the air vaguely. Nothing happened.
“You’re not concentrating on the spell,” Emily said. Just how limited was Frieda’s introduction to magic? Mistress Irene had slowly talked Emily through all of the stages, starting with the basics and moving on to more complex structures. “Try it again.”
“I did,” Frieda said, after a moment. There was a flare of unfocused magic, harmlessly absorbed by the wards, but nothing effective. “But it isn’t working.”
Emily thought, trying to recall lessons that had been both wondrous and extremely difficult at the same time. She’d had to learn to channel her magic before starting to actually put together a basic spell in her head. Logically, Frieda had to do the same, with some minor modifications... in fact, if her guess was correct, she’d been taught to keep the two parts of making a spell separate. It was an easier way to learn magic than the way Emily had been taught, but it was also very limited.
“I want you to close your eyes and think of a simple charm,” Emily said, reaching out and taking Frieda’s hands. “Pick a charm, any charm.”
Frieda hesitated. “The glow charm,” she said, as she closed her eyes. “They taught it to us first.”
Emily nodded. “That will do,” she said. It wasn’t one that could become dangerous if overpowered, as far as she knew. “I want you to keep your eyes closed and think about how the charm feels when you create the spell. Don’t try to chant, just think about how the charm feels in your wand. It will resonate against your magic. How does it feel?”
“Strange,” Frieda said.
Emily smiled at her, reassuringly. “Hold that feeling in your head,” she said, “and try to channel magic into the spell.”
Frieda’s hands shook. “It isn’t working,” she protested. “I can’t do it.”
“Try again,” Emily said. She squeezed Frieda’s hands lightly. “Focus on the feeling and...”
Magic flared around her. Emily smiled as the room was suddenly illuminated by a brilliant white glow of light.
“Open your eyes,” she said. The spell wouldn’t last long. “Hurry.”
Frieda opened her eyes and stared. “I did that?”
“You did,” Emily confirmed. “And without a wand.”
She watched with some amusement as Frieda cast a whole series of spells into the air, starting with a brilliant light globe. The girl was almost giggling, even though some of her spells were strongly overpowered and others barely worked before fading back into nothingness and disappearing. Emily found herself smiling openly, remembering the wonder and joy she’d felt when she’d first cast a spell. Frieda, trapped by mental blocks that had been skilfully woven into her head, had never really felt the same way.
“You’ll have to keep practicing,” Emily said. She plucked the wand off her belt, held it in her hand for a long moment, then snapped it neatly in two. Frieda yelped, but didn’t panic. “I have something for you.”
She reached into her deep pocket and produced a wand she’d picked up earlier. “This is nothing more than a piece of wood,” she said. As far as she could tell, there wasn’t anything particularly special about any of the wands, although some were made of stone or iron instead of wood. “It just looks like a wand, but it won’t work as one. I want you to carry it with you and cast all the spells you are ordered to do without using a proper wand.”
Frieda stared at it. “Why...?”
“Because they always took your wand,” Emily said, softly. “This way, you’ll be able to surprise them when they do.”
“I...” Frieda seemed stunned. “Do you mean I can fight?”
“There are probably spells to make it hard to lose a wand,” Emily said, stroking the snake bracelet on her wrist. Hardly anyone had commented on it, although that was no surprise. She was far from the only student who wore jewellery. “You’re surrounded by knowledge you can use to defend yourself, just waiting for you to pick it up. Why didn’t you use it?”
“...Can’t read,” Frieda muttered, sullenly. “And no one would read to me.”
Emily sighed. “I’ll teach you some reading spells,” she said. They never lasted very long, but they would suffice. “How did you learn from your books?”
Frieda shook her head, wordlessly.
“Maybe get someone to teach you the basics of reading too,” Emily added, thoughtfully. She honestly had no idea who, in Mountaintop, would be interested in teaching a young girl to read, even if she was offered payment for her services. “But we will see.”
She sat back, then started teaching Frieda a number of basic spells. Most of them were classed as harmless First Year pranks at Whitehall, an attitude that Emily had found horrific even before they were used on her. Turning someone into a toad seemed amusing, unless one happened to be the victim. Others were just as unplea
sant... and perfectly normal, in a world of magic. Once she’d taught the spells, she added a number of basic countermeasures that would rapidly remove the original spell.
“You need to forget everything you were told about dueling,” she warned. “The real world isn’t fair. Nor do bloody-minded wizards give you a chance to raise your wand to defend yourself. Hit hard, hit fast and keep moving!”
Frieda swallowed. “But what if the spells don’t work?”
“Test them,” Emily said.
She took a breath, then decided she could take a risk. “Test one of the spells on me,” she offered. “But don’t try to alter the spellwork.”
“I can’t,” Frieda said. “I was told...”
“Forget whatever you were told,” Emily ordered, sharply. “Cast one of the spells on me.”
Frieda raised a hand. Emily braced herself as light flared from Frieda’s fingertips and swirled around Emily, then closed her eyes as the light merged into her very being. The sensation of having her entire body warped and twisted into something else was uncomfortable, but not particularly painful, somewhat to her surprise. There were other forms of transfiguration spells that were effectively methods of torture.
She opened her eyes to discover she was staring up at Frieda. A glance downwards revealed she had a green body and the entire room had suddenly become much larger. She hopped... and found herself halfway across the room. The spell, thankfully, protected her mind from being infected with the frog’s mentality, but the experience was still uncomfortable. She gathered her thoughts, then shaped the counterspell in her mind. Her senses swam, once again, as she returned to human form. Keeping her eyes open had been a mistake.
“I... I did that?” Frieda asked. “Really?”
“Yes,” Emily said, standing up and adjusting her dress. “You cast the spell; you turned me into a frog.”
Frieda laughed for a moment before freezing in sudden horror, clearly expecting punishment of some kind. No doubt she’d been punished for doing what she’d been told before, Emily guessed, bitterly. It didn’t matter to an abused child that it wasn’t her fault that she’d been abused; abused children often blamed themselves for their suffering. And it just wasn’t right.
“You did as you were told,” Emily said, dryly.
“But... your clothes transformed too,” Frieda said. “When I was turned into a pig, my clothes were left behind.”
“Different spell,” Emily said. Whitehall took a dim view of spells that left people running naked through the corridor. “And now you need to practice some of the other spells–just target them on the wards–after you do me one favor.”
Frieda looked at her through shining eyes. “Anything,” she said. “After this...”
“I taught you the freeze spell,” Emily said. “I need you to cast it on me, then leave it in place until the bell rings for dinner.”
“The freeze spell,” Frieda said. “Why?”
“I need to master breaking it,” Emily said. She’d been caught too often by the trick. “If I can’t free myself by dinnertime, you can free me yourself.”
She sat down and waited. Frieda cast the spell... and Emily froze. Magic crackled over her skin, then faded away. Emily tried to force herself to move, but not a single voluntary muscle would obey her orders. She privately suspected it was actually a form of stasis spell, rather than merely freezing someone in space, even though she could still think. Magic seemed to consider the mind partly disconnected from the body, after all. Logically, she shouldn’t be able to think when she was a frog, because she had a frog’s mind. But she could think...
It wasn’t easy to think clearly when she was frozen. Partly, because it was unnatural; partly, because she was vulnerable and she hated being vulnerable. The spell was very easy to abuse, if someone was careful; it was far easier being a frog, rather than a frozen statue. But she knew it was possible to escape. Jade had done it, several times, when she’d frozen him.
She tried to close her eyes, remembered it was futile, then started to meditate, separating her mind from her body. It was what she’d told Frieda to do, more or less, with some modifications. If magic could be separated so a wand became necessary, was it possible to move all the way in the other direction? She concentrated desperately, recalling the sensations of the counterspell, then tried to trigger it. Everything went dark for a second...
And then she opened her eyes. She could move!
“You did it,” Frieda cheered. “Can you teach me how to do it?”
“I can try,” Emily said. Why had everything gone dark? She didn’t feel as though she’d knocked herself out. And then she knew the answer and mentally kicked herself. She had wanted to close her eyes before breaking the spell. “But it’s rather tricky.”
Frieda giggled. “I’ve mastered more,” she said. She paused. “Can I show these to others?”
“If you want,” Emily said. Maybe it would make life a little better for the Shadows if they all learned to use magic without a wand. Or maybe someone would blame her for introducing the new/old technique. She shook her head. If there were consequences, she could take them. “But remember what I said about dueling.”
“Thank you,” Frieda said.
“Be careful who you teach,” Emily warned. “Don’t teach Ten anything.”
Frieda giggled.
Emily rose to her feet on unsteady legs then walked around the chamber until she felt better.
“You can do more than simple deflecting charms,” she told Frieda as she walked. “Your wand isn’t a shield, nor should you be trying to use it as one. You need to learn to construct your own private wards, embedded in your magic. Once in place, they will remain there until they are knocked down or removed.”
Frieda frowned. “I don’t have to dodge everything?”
“You should,” Emily warned. There were hexes that ate their way through personal wards, then attacked their target directly. She’d been taught quite a few in Martial Magic. “Don’t ever let anyone hit you if you can avoid it.”
She sighed, studying the younger girl. There was no way she would be a match for anyone physically, at least for quite some time. And she might never be a true Combat Sorceress, no matter how much magic she mastered. Lady Barb was the only woman Emily had met who had been able to keep up with the sergeants, either in magical or physical tussles.
“And try to get someone to watch your back too,” she added. A person’s back was always exposed, no matter how many protective wards they knew. “Maybe a friend... do you have someone you trust?”
“There’s a few girls I do the laundry with,” Frieda said. “And others I try to practice spells with, but we’re kept very busy when we’re not in class. And I don’t know if I can trust them.”
Under the circumstances, Emily decided, that was probably a wise attitude.
She hesitated, then allowed Frieda to test a few more spells on her. There was a variant on the freeze spell that merely trapped a person’s feet to the floor–Emily couldn’t resist pointing out how easy it was to escape by simply removing her shoes–and a darker spell that caused burning sensations, even though it inflicted no real harm. Frieda was laughing openly as she finished casting the third spell, then stumbled and almost collapsed. Emily stepped forward and held her, gently. Frieda felt alarmingly light in Emily’s arms.
“You need to eat,” she said. She’d spoken to Zed about specific potions and he’d agreed, reluctantly, to allow her to draw them from the school’s supplies. Emily had managed to keep from demanding to know why they weren’t made generally available, somehow. “And so do I.”
She checked they hadn’t left anything in the chamber–the remains of Frieda’s wand were stuffed into her dress for later disposal–then allowed Frieda to lead her out of the room and down towards the refectory. Ten and Helen were outside, going to dinner too, but neither of them said anything and they passed in awkward silence. Emily sighed, inwardly, then quietly resigned herself to an uncomfortable dinne
r. But it really didn’t matter that much.
Frieda caught her arm as Helen and Ten walked into the refectory and held her back. “Why are you doing this?” She asked, quietly. “Why don’t you just... use me?”
Emily shuddered. Frieda could have no idea just how many unfortunate implications were wrapped up in her words. Or perhaps she did. Someone who grew up on a farm would know the facts of life at a far earlier age than someone who had grown up in a city. And wouldn’t have any illusions about her potential value to someone from a far higher social class. And she’d be too grand to fit in with her family if she ever went home.
“Because... because it’s the right thing to do,” Emily said.
She’d wondered if Frieda had been intended to spy on her, but that was clearly not the case. But instead... it was possible that she was intended as a subtle lure. The part of Emily that enjoyed helping people would love to spend more time teaching Frieda, even if it meant staying at Mountaintop for an additional year. She touched the rune between her breasts and shivered, knowing that she might be protected from subtle magic manipulation, but there was no protection from mundane manipulation. Aurelius had the measure of her all too well.
“No one else seems to feel that way,” Frieda said, quietly. There was a bitterness in her voice that caused Emily a fresh pang of guilt. “You’re the first to care about me.”
“Maybe it gets better in later years,” Emily said. She wasn’t sure that was true, although Aurelius had hinted as much. The Shadows from poorer backgrounds would start at a lower level than the other Second Years. “Or maybe you would have gone elsewhere.”
She shook her head as they walked into the dining hall. The cooks had definitely heard something from Aurelius; they placed a large dinner in front of Frieda, as well as a handful of potion vials. Emily watched as Frieda hesitated, then started to eat slowly and reluctantly.
“Take the green potion,” Emily ordered. She knew from experience that it enhanced the appetite. The sergeants had made her drink them herself, once upon a time. “And then drink the others after the meal.”
Schooled in Magic 5 - The School of Hard Knocks Page 19
