Work Experience (Schooled in Magic Book 4)

by Christopher Nuttall

  I would have had to retake parts of it anyway, Emily consoled herself. Sergeant Miles wouldn’t let me waste time.

  Shaking her head, Emily undressed, removing the uniform she’d worn in Blackhall, and jumped into the shower for a quick wash, then dried herself with a spell and pulled on the first walking outfit. Lady Barb hadn’t told her what she should wear for the trip, but Emily was already dreading the passage through the portal. If nothing else, she could clean one of the walking outfits easily. The garments were already charmed to keep dust and mud from sticking permanently.

  Once she was dressed, she took one last look at her trunk, feeling oddly upset at the thought of leaving it behind. The first trunk was long gone, but it had been the first thing she’d bought with money she’d earned at Whitehall, while the second was actually an improvement. Yodel had done very good work, she had to admit, even if he’d helped Emily get into real trouble. But it hadn’t really been his fault...she picked up the trunk, marveling at the charm that made it almost weightless for its rightful owner, and carried it out of her room. Down the corridor, she could hear Madame Razz telling off one of the first years. Emily rolled her eyes as she walked into the storeroom and carefully placed the trunk in a sealed compartment. It should be safe for three months.

  “Your parents paid for you to stay for extra tuition,” Madame Razz’s voice proclaimed, as Emily stepped back into the corridor. “I don’t think they meant for you to try to rig the beds with itching spells. Or were they just trying to get rid of you for a few more weeks?”

  Emily winced as the two came into view, Madame Razz dragging the unruly First Year by her ear. Parents of magical children who weren’t magical themselves were often unsure of the way to treat their gifted children. Emily had heard horror stories about children – teenagers, really – using their magic to lord it over their parents, relatives and childhood friends. Imaiqah had been lucky, she knew. Other parents tended to allow their children to fade away into the magical community.

  She wondered absently if the First Year knew how lucky she was to have decent parents. Emily’s father had left his family when his daughter had been very young, her mother had been steadily drinking herself to death and her stepfather...Emily shuddered as the memory rose up to torment her, before she forced it back into the darkness of her mind. She was no longer on Earth and she would never see him again. Stepping back into her room, she glanced around to make sure that she hadn’t left anything behind. The dirty uniform would be picked up by the servants and washed; there was nothing else in the room that belonged to her. It looked almost as if she’d never lived there at all.

  Emily picked up her bag, slung it over her shoulder and walked out of the room, refusing to look back. There was no sign of Madame Razz now. Emily hesitated, wondering if she should find her to say goodbye, then decided against it and walked out of the compartment and down towards the Entrance Hall. The two pranksters were still cleaning the Great Hall thoroughly, supervised by a grim-faced Master Tor. Emily scowled at his back – Master Tor had made his intention of leaving Whitehall quite clear, but he had yet to actually leave – and walked around the Great Hall. She didn’t really want to talk to a teacher who’d disliked her long before he’d actually met her.

  Lady Barb was waiting in the Entrance Hall, a small bag slung around her shoulder. Emily caught the look in her eye and wordlessly handed over her own bag for the older woman to search. It was irritating not to be trusted to pack her own bag, but Lady Barb had made it clear that it would be hard to replace anything she’d missed once they were on their way.

  “Good,” Lady Barb said, finally. “But you probably shouldn’t carry so many books. You will be busy.”

  Emily nodded, but made no move to remove the books.

  Lady Barb smiled and passed the bag back to her. “Just remember you have to carry them,” she warned, as Emily took the bag. She’d said the same thing time and time again. “I won’t be carrying them for you.”

  “I know,” Emily said quietly.

  She looked up as the Grandmaster stepped into the hall. He looked older, somehow, the lines on his face clearer than ever. His eyes, hidden behind a cloth, seemed to twitch in Emily’s direction. Lady Barb dropped him a long sweeping bow, which Emily followed a moment later. The Grandmaster bowed in return, then smiled tiredly.

  “You should take great care,” the Grandmaster said. He looked directly at Emily. “I do not believe that your guardian came on a whim.”

  Emily blinked – she hadn’t told anyone what Void had said – and then recalled that Blackhall was as closely monitored as Whitehall. The Grandmaster had probably known that Void was there the moment he’d passed through the outer protective wards.

  “We’ll talk about it soon enough,” Lady Barb promised. There was a hint of irritation in her voice. “And I thank you for your patience with me.”

  “You’re welcome,” the Grandmaster said. Emily glanced from one to the other in bemusement. What were they talking about? “And I wish you a safe and educational trip, Lady Emily.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Emily said.

  “And I will expect regular reports,” the Grandmaster added. “In triplicate.”

  Lady Barb snorted. “Only if you write them yourself,” she said. “I don’t think either of us will have the time.”

  Emily nodded, quickly.

  Lady Barb caught her arm and pulled her towards the door. Outside, the sun was high in the sky, casting rays of light towards the ground. Emily looked behind her as they walked down towards the edge of the wards surrounding the castle, catching sight of the two pranksters as they were marched into the Entrance Hall. Neither of them looked even remotely happy.

  The woebegone look on their faces piqued her curiosity. “What,” she asked, “did they do?”

  “They came up with an ingenious scheme for sneaking into the girls changing room,” Lady Barb told her. Unlike most of the other teachers, she never withheld anything from her charges. “It really was quite clever...but they were caught. The Grandmaster assigned them to clean the school in hopes of deterring others from trying the same trick.”

  Emily shuddered. She had enough problems undressing in front of her fellow girls, let alone boys. The thought of someone spying on her as she undressed...she shuddered again, remembering just how many spells there were protecting the changing rooms. If one of the boys had managed to bypass them...

  She opened her mouth to ask how they did it, but Lady Barb caught hold of her arm before Emily could say a word. “Close your eyes,” Lady Barb instructed. “And don’t open them until I say so.”

  Emily blinked in surprise. “We’re not going to the portal?”

  “No,” Lady Barb said. She wrapped her arms around Emily in a gentle, but firm hug. “Close your eyes.”

  Emily obeyed.

  A moment later, she felt a surge of magic surround her.

  Chapter Three

  EMILY FORCED HER EYES TO STAY closed as the world shuddered around her, then the magic faded to nothingness. There was a long moment of complete disorientation – Emily realized, suddenly, that they were teleporting – and then Lady Barb slowly let her go.

  “Open your eyes,” she ordered.

  Emily did so and immediately looked around. It was twilight, the last traces of sunlight falling behind the mountains in the distance. High overhead, the stars were coming out, twinkling madly in the darkness. They had to have teleported over half the continent, she deduced, because it had been early afternoon at Whitehall. Her head spun, but she managed to keep her footing.

  At least, she thought wryly, teleporting isn’t anything like as bad as stepping through a portal without proper precautions.

  “This is my family’s land,” Lady Barb informed her. “And that’s my home, over there.”

  Emily followed her gaze. A wall, almost two meters high, was broken by a pair of wrought-iron gates, allowing her to see the garden and the manor house beyond. It looked like an Edwardian bu
ilding, Emily decided, with at least three floors. She followed Lady Barb towards the house, feeling the outer edges of the wards as they brushed lightly against her magic. The building looked indefensible, but as long as Lady Barb had magic it wouldn’t be a problem. It was simple to construct wards to keep non-magical thieves out.

  The gates creaked open as they approached, allowing them to walk up the path towards the house. Emily couldn’t help admiring the garden, even though it looked like someone had scattered seeds at random just to see what would happen. The bushes and trees looked natural, while – in the undergrowth – small animals scuttled for cover. Lady Barb stopped in front of the heavy wooden front door, then pressed her hand against a stone set in the wood. There was a flare of magic before the wards protecting the door unlocked, piece by piece. Emily stepped backwards as the magic flared again, looking up at the house. Up close, it had a vaguely sinister appearance that bothered her.

  The door opened, allowing Lady Barb to step inside. “Come,” she ordered, as Emily hesitated. “I bid you welcome to my home.”

  Emily had to think to remember her etiquette. “I thank you for welcoming me,” she said, after a moment. “I pledge to hold my hand in your house.”

  Lady Barb clicked her fingers. The corridor flared with light, bright enough to make Emily cover her eyes before it dimmed to a more manageable level. She looked around, fascinated, but only saw bare wooden walls...no, the walls were carved into elaborate patterns and runes. There were no paintings or other decorations, but there wouldn’t be. The runes were almost certainly part of the house’s defenses against intruders.

  “You need to practice your etiquette,” Lady Barb warned. “The last place you want to accidentally insult another magician is his own house.”

  Emily swallowed. She hadn’t yet started to study wards, but she did know that a magician who owned a house and crafted the wards himself was almost impossible to defeat on his home territory. Etiquette was important for magicians, if only to prevent accidental insults, but she had to study aristocratic etiquette as well as magical etiquette. Something that would insult Alassa’s father would be ignored by a magician. But this was the first time she’d set foot in a magician’s house, at least since entering Whitehall.

  She looked up at Lady Barb. “What did I do wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Lady Barb said. “But you have to pledge to respect your host quicker, in future.”

  Lady Barb led her into a large kitchen. Emily couldn’t help admiring the structure, although she had no idea how the two of them could cook anything by themselves. It looked as though at least four cooks were required, but they were alone. The house felt empty. Lady Barb grinned, then motioned for Emily to put her bag down on the table.

  “Take a seat,” she ordered, as she used a spell to light the fire. “I’ll make some chocolate for us both.”

  Emily nodded. Hot chocolate – or something that passed for it – would help her to sleep, particularly if she combined it with a small dose of a sleeping potion. Jet lag wasn’t a problem in the new world, but teleport lag might well be...her body insisted that it was early afternoon, even though it was dark and cold outside. She sat down on a wooden stool and watched as the older woman moved around her kitchen with easy competence. It was barely five minutes before they both had a steaming cup of chocolate in front of them.

  “There are some matters we need to discuss,” Lady Barb said, once she had taken a sip of her drink. “For a start, you do realize that you are both famous and notorious?”

  “I might just have noticed,” Emily said, sardonically. “It’s hard to avoid being aware of it.”

  They shared a smile. Most of the ballads about the Necromancer’s Bane bore little resemblance to reality, but that didn’t stop the bards from singing and spreading her fame everywhere. Some were so outrageous that Emily had actually considered trying to sue for libel, only to discover that she would have to invent the legal framework first before doing so.

  It wasn’t something she found comfortable – and not just because people were judging her by the ballads, rather than anything she’d actually done. Fame had never really been one of her ambitions, particularly not when it brought worse enemies than depraved stalkers. The innovations she’d introduced to the new world, starting in Zangaria, were slowly turning it upside down. Her long list of enemies might have started with the necromancers, but it didn’t end there.

  Lady Barb reached into her bag and produced a small pendant. “This is a glamor-stone,” she said, dropping it on the table. “It will disguise you from anyone who doesn’t actually know you personally. The fact you’re wearing it will be obvious, but no one will be so gauche as to try to take it from you. And you won’t have to expend any energy to maintain the glamor.”

  Emily nodded. Almost all of the girls at Whitehall – and quite a few of the boys – used glamors to hide tiny imperfections in their bodies. The only girl she knew who didn’t use glamors was Alassa – and she had been engineered to be stunningly beautiful. Even Emily herself had been tempted, although in the end she had chosen to stick with her natural appearance. If nothing else, she didn’t have to expend energy maintaining it.

  “Emily is also not a common name,” Lady Barb added, as Emily picked up the stone and examined it carefully. She’d been warned, more than once, to be careful with anything someone else provided for her, no matter who it was. Sergeant Miles had demonstrated several of the simplest traps for his students, leaving them all more than a little paranoid about their fellows. “I’m going to call you Millie when we’re in public. Make sure you cast a privacy ward if you want to talk to someone who knows your identity.”

  “I understand,” Emily said. It seemed embarrassing to have to hide her identity, but she knew Lady Barb was right. “Will I have to talk to others?”

  “I thought you wanted to talk to your young friend,” Lady Barb said. “But he would recognize you at once, naturally. A glamor won’t fool someone who actually knows you.”

  Emily felt her cheeks heat up. It would be the first time she’d seen Jade in over a year, a year of somewhat strained correspondence...she pushed the thought aside, firmly. She couldn’t hide behind email – or letters – at Whitehall, not indefinitely. Hell, she couldn’t use email at all. She had only a faint idea of how to start generating electricity.

  If it works in this universe, she told herself. She was fairly sure it would – there were electrical currents in human brains, after all – but she didn’t know for sure.

  “We are going to be here for three days,” Lady Barb said. “Your mornings will be spent brewing specific potions, which you should have no problems with” – she ignored Emily’s groan of dismay - “and doing some private studies. You may spend the afternoon at the Faire, if you wish. As my apprentice, at least for the summer, you will not be expected to mingle with the great and the good. They won’t know who you are.”

  Emily nodded, relieved. She knew enough about the politics of the magical families to want to avoid them as long as possible. The deluge of messages asking for her hand in marriage had taught her that she would have to be careful. They knew her as someone who could give her children powerful magic, not as a person in her own right. In some ways, it was just as bad as the arranged marriage Alassa had been raised to accept.

  “Thank you,” she said, and meant it. “I don’t like crowds.”

  Lady Barb shrugged. “Most magicians tend to become unsociable as they grow older,” she said, softly. “I...forced myself to overcome it.”

  She finished her chocolate and stood up, forcing Emily to take her last sip. At least it was sweeter than the chocolate served in Whitehall, she told herself. Normally, she had to add at least a spoonful of sugar to drink it properly. Lady Barb waved a hand, banishing both cups to the sink, and then led Emily out of the kitchen and up a flight of stairs. There was a musty atmosphere in the upper levels that suggested that no one had entered the house for a very long time.

  �
��This is the library,” Lady Barb said, as she opened a door. Inside, the walls were lined with books, old books. It was tiny compared to a library on Earth, but Emily knew that she was staring at thousands of gold coins worth of books. Before she’d introduced the printing press, books had been written and bound manually. The various Scribes Guilds had made fortunes copying rare and important books for their clients. “Do you like it?”

  Emily nodded. She’d always loved libraries.

  “You can read anything, apart from the books on the top shelf,” Lady Barb said. She gave Emily a warning look. “Some of them are too advanced for you, as of yet, while some of them are specific to my family. Reading them would be very dangerous for your health, Emily. Don’t try to open them.”

  Emily felt a flicker of resentment. She’d always hated being told that something was too advanced – or too adult – for her to read. The librarians back on Earth had sometimes questioned her when she’d taken adult books out of the library, demanding to know if her mother knew she was reading them. But her mother had been too drunk to care.

  She shook her head. These books weren’t adult fiction, but books of magic, keyed to a specific family line. Lady Barb was right. Reading them could be very bad for her health.

  “I won’t,” she promised. She hesitated, then asked the question that had come to mind. “Could your brother’s wife read them?”

  Lady Barb shook her head. “Only someone who shared the family’s bloodline could open the books safely,” she said. “A wife wouldn’t count, no matter how close she was to her husband.”

  Emily shivered, remembering the offers of marriage. They’d been made to Imaiqah, too...and, before she’d been ennobled herself, Imaiqah might well have been tempted. A place in a magical family, adding her wild magic to the family’s bloodline...it was a better match than she could have hoped for as a merchant’s daughter. But she would never truly be one of the family. She would never be able to read their books.