Work Experience (Schooled in Magic Book 4)

by Christopher Nuttall

  Emily considered it. She hadn’t noticed any of the male students at Whitehall giving the female teachers grief, but most of the teachers – even Master Tor – knew their subjects well enough to convince their students not to mess with them. But Martial Magic, which was half physical exercise, might be a harder class for a woman to teach. There were only a handful of girls in the class and all of them were worked to the bone. The sergeants didn’t hold back for them.

  “Stupid,” she said, finally.

  “Very stupid,” Lady Barb agreed. “After I graduated from Whitehall, I was apprenticed to a sorcerer, learned the ropes and gained my mastery. And then I met Void.”

  Emily nodded, remembering what she’d been told.

  “Master Grey doesn’t seem to like me,” she said, changing the subject hastily. “What did I do to him?”

  “Distracted Jade, I imagine,” Lady Barb said. “It isn’t customary for apprentices to maintain relationships outside of the apprenticeship. Most apprentices cut themselves off from everyone else during their training. Master Grey is enough of a traditionalist to be irked at you distracting his student.”

  Emily flushed. “I didn’t mean to distract his student!”

  Lady Barb laughed, not unkindly. “I wouldn’t worry about it,” she advised. “Here, in the Faire, there will be time for you and Jade to talk properly, without interruption.”

  “Thank you,” Emily said. “Can I ask a question?”

  “You just did,” Lady Barb pointed out. She smirked, then grinned at Emily. “Go ahead.”

  Emily braced herself. “Are you married?”

  Lady Barb lifted her eyebrows. “Tell me,” she said, “do you see a husband around here?”

  Emily felt her cheeks heat, but she pressed on. “It’s just...you’re...your family will want you to get married, won’t it?”

  “I never found the right person,” Lady Barb said, taking pity on her. “There was a Combat Sorcerer I met once, but he died in battle against the necromancers. Since then, no one has really managed to impress me. And my family knows better than to try to push me into anything.”

  “That’s good,” Emily said. “Where are they?”

  “My father died a long time ago,” Lady Barb admitted. There was a bitterness in her tone that made Emily sit up and take notice. “My mother...I haven’t seen her in years. She might well be dead by now too. I inherited the house and little else. My uncles sometimes try to talk me into spending more time with the family, but I don’t listen to them very often. They weren’t always kind to my father.”

  She shrugged. “We may meet some of them over the coming week,” she added. “It would probably be best to make sure they don’t know who you are, Millie.”

  Emily nodded. She couldn’t help wondering if Lady Barb had an ulterior motive for chatting about her past, although Emily had been curious. Lady Barb was an intensely private person in many ways, rarely telling anyone much about herself. For her to open up so much...either she wanted Emily to know or she had something else in mind.

  “I have something to teach you,” Lady Barb said, standing up. “But I think we should eat lunch first. You will need energy for this.”

  Emily stood and followed her into the kitchen. Lady Barb opened a set of cabinets, canceled a series of stasis spells and produced bread, cheese and ham, which she placed on the table. Emily started to carve up the bread to make sandwiches, while Lady Barb boiled soup. It was a simple meal, certainly compared to the aristocratic feasts, but Emily didn’t mind. Besides, the aristocracy often seemed to be competing to win a prize for worst table manners in the world.

  “Good work,” Lady Barb said, as she placed a bowl of chicken soup in front of Emily. “The last person I brought here didn’t know how to help at all.”

  Emily felt an odd flicker of jealousy. “Who was he?”

  “He suffered a nasty accident and I found myself detailed to look after him for a few months,” Lady Barb said. “If you’re cooped up with someone, you either get very close or you wind up hating each other. I definitely ended up hating him, even though it wasn’t entirely fair.”

  She shrugged. “Eat up,” she ordered. “You are going to need your strength.”

  Emily nodded and tucked into the food. The prospect of learning new magic always gave her an appetite. Besides, she’d learned from the sergeants that she should always eat when she had the chance. She might not have the chance again.

  Chapter Six

  “WHAT I’M ABOUT TO SHOW YOU,” Lady Barb said, as they walked back to the library, “is rarely shown to anyone beneath Fifth Year. In fact, the senior tutors can decide that a certain pupil should never be told about this kind of magic, let alone taught how to do it safely. You must not discuss it with your friends, ever.”

  Emily gave her a sharp look. “So why are you teaching it to me?”

  “Because you will probably wind up rediscovering it for yourself,” Lady Barb said, as she stopped in front of a bookshelf. “And because it has been decided to push your education forward as fast as possible. And because you should be able to handle it now.”

  Emily hesitated. “Will you get in trouble for teaching me?”

  “I’d prefer not to discuss it with anyone,” Lady Barb admitted. “The Grandmaster is the only other person who knows and he gave his approval.”

  She pressed her hand against the bookshelf. There was a dull rumbling sound and the entire bookshelf retreated backwards and to the side, revealing a darkened stairwell leading down into the bowels of the earth. Lady Barb cast a light-spell, illuminating the stone stairs, then started to walk down into the darkness. Emily hesitated again, then followed her, pressing one hand against the stone wall. It reminded her uncomfortably of Shadye’s fortress in the Blighted Land, but now she could sense the magic running through the stone. Something – or someone – was constrained down below.

  “You are free to back out at any time,” Lady Barb called back, as she reached the bottom of the stairs. “There are magicians, including some quite powerful ones, who cannot commit themselves to any form of ritual. Their own doubts and fears make it impossible. If you want to back out, just say so. I won’t be upset.”

  Emily swallowed as she stepped into the stone chamber. It was dark, so dark that the darkness seemed to absorb the light from the spell. A moment later, the spell flickered out completely and Emily froze, trapped in the darkness. It took her several seconds to realize that there was a faint blue glow from the floor...and several seconds more to realize that the glow emanated from runes carved into the stone. Some of them she recognized, others were completely unfamiliar. They surrounded a glowing blue circle in the center of the room.

  She found her voice. “What is this place?”

  “A modified spellchamber,” Lady Barb said. There was a grim note to her voice that suggested that she, too, had doubts. “My great-grandfather built it, back before he was shipped off to an isolated island to carry out his research in private. It’s been tested extensively since then, but I haven’t used it very often.”

  Emily nodded. A spellchamber was nothing more than a safe place to practice spells...looking around, she could see that most of the runes were designed to channel magic away from the circle, allowing the spell to be cast without interference. But this chamber was far stronger than the chambers she’d used at Whitehall. The closer she stepped to the circle, the harder it was to sense any ambient magic in the air at all.

  Lady Barb stepped over the glowing blue line and turned to face her. “This should not be dangerous,” she said, “but it can be. Do you want to back out now?”

  Emily shook her head. She didn’t even know what was going on.

  “Then step into the circle,” Lady Barb ordered. “But don’t put your foot down on the blue light.”

  Emily obeyed. A shiver ran down her spine as she sensed the sudden absence of the remaining ambient magic. The runes, she realized, had to be absorbing and directing the mana out of the circle, crea
ting a space that was completely empty of undirected magic. Her own magic suddenly seemed to blossom within her, making her very aware of its presence.

  “Sit down,” Lady Barb ordered. She produced a knife from her robes and examined it, carefully. Emily stared at it in horror until she realized that the blade was silver, rather than stone. “We are going to explore the simplest form of ritual.”

  Emily nodded, her throat suddenly dry. The books she’d read in the library had talked about how magicians could use rituals to cast formidable spells, but they hadn’t gone into details, beyond a handful of warnings about how immensely dangerous such spells could be. Given some of the stories, Emily could well believe it. One story talked about a group of magicians who had destroyed an entire city.

  “Sit down,” Lady Barb repeated. Emily obeyed, hastily. “And give me your hands.”

  Emily hesitated, then held out her hands. Lady Barb took them and held her, gently.

  “Now,” Lady Barb said. “I want you to close your eyes and focus on your magic. It should be easy here.”

  It was, Emily already knew. She closed her eyes...and the sensation of her magic, pulsing in tune with her heartbeat, grew stronger and stronger. The magic seemed to swell within her, then fade away, then swell again in an endless tide. Lady Barb rubbed her palms gently as the sensation overwhelmed her. The touch was all that was keeping her from being completely absorbed in her own mind.

  “Visualize the magic moving through your bloodstream,” Lady Barb instructed quietly. “Imagine it moving from place to place, carrying power through your body.”

  Emily nodded, keeping her eyes closed. The more she focused her mind, the more she was aware of magic moving through her bloodstream...and concentrating in her mind, her heart and her womb. It reminded her of the moment Shadye had forced her to stab Sergeant Harkin with a necromantic knife, right in the heart. Shadye had intended to force her to drain the Sergeant’s magic, unaware that Harkin had no magic. Now...

  “Be aware of your skin, holding in the magic,” Lady Barb said. Her words made it real, somehow. “Concentrate your mind on visualizing the skin.”

  There was a long pause. “I’m going to cut your palm,” she added. “When I do, try to direct some of your magic up and out of your body. Don’t channel it through your mind, channel it through the cut. Do you understand me?”

  Emily nodded, nervously. There was a faint stabbing sensation from her palm, then nothing. But she could see her magic reacting to the cut, flickering around as if it wasn’t quite sure what to do. Emily hesitated, then attempted to guide some of her magic out of her body. But it refused to do more than spin around the cut. And then the cut closed up completely.

  “You healed yourself,” Lady Barb observed. She sounded more amused than annoyed. “I’m going to cut you again.”

  There was another stabbing sensation. This time, Emily managed to guide a little magic up and out of her body. It seemed to fade away into the chamber, directed by the runes. Emily felt a sudden dizzy sensation, then the cut healed again. Lady Barb’s grip tightened, just slightly, then relaxed.

  “Using your mind’s eye,” Lady Barb ordered, “look upwards. Sense the magic.”

  Emily forced herself to concentrate, despite the sudden weakness in her limbs. Above her, magic was slowly seeping into the runes. It was her magic, she realized, now as familiar as her own face. And it was fading away...

  “Open your eyes,” Lady Barb said.

  Emily opened her eyes and looked around. The entire chamber was glowing with light, banishing the shadows. Her magic, she realized, was powering the runes, which had directed the magic into harmless light. Lady Barb let go of her hands, then stood. But when Emily tried to stand, her legs betrayed her. She couldn’t stand upright at all.

  “It always leaves a magician weak, the first time,” Lady Barb said. “How are you feeling?”

  “Spent,” Emily said. She tried to analyze her own feelings, but they were in such a conflicted mess that it was impossible to sort them out. Giving up magic like that made her feel uncomfortable, yet there was a strange tingling in her hand that was almost pleasurable. “What...what happened to it?”

  “Here, the runes redirect the magic,” Lady Barb said. “When a ritual is used in the field, one of the magicians is placed in charge of shaping the magic and directing it towards its target, leaving the others vulnerable. Does it remind you of anything?”

  Emily shivered. “Necromancy.”

  Lady Barb nodded. “There are two differences,” she said. “First, the magicians involved in a ritual are giving up magic willingly – and a controlled amount of magic, rather than everything they have. Second, the magic gathered is not channeled through the prime magician’s mind, but through the spell-structure and runes he has created. Insanity is not a serious risk.”

  “I see,” Emily said. It was still almost impossible to even think about moving. “Can’t this be used to match a necromancer?”

  “Once or twice, if you happen to get lucky,” Lady Barb said. “But setting up a ritual can take time and effort. Necromancers don’t have to worry about it.”

  Emily nodded.

  Lady Barb squatted down until she was facing Emily, looking into her eyes. “Can you think of another danger?”

  The basic necromantic rite wasn’t complicated, Emily knew; Shadye might have taught her, but she could have figured it out from what she’d learned in books and private sessions with Mistress Sun. But it was all-or-nothing; the necromancer took everything his victim had, drawing it through his mind and driving himself insane. And yet...it wasn’t just magic they took...

  She shuddered. “Life force,” she said. “A ritual can be used to share life force.”

  “It can,” Lady Barb agreed. “And only necromancy is considered so vile.”

  Emily blinked in surprise. “Why?”

  Lady Barb gave her a reproving look. “Oh, Emily,” she said, in a voice more suited to an aged grandmother than a middle-aged woman, “you have so many years left and I have so few. Why don’t you give me some of your years?”

  She continued in a more normal voice. “There are rejuvenation spells that drain life force from their victim and give it to the caster,” she added. “If enough life force is drained, the victim will die of old age.”

  Emily shuddered at the implications. “A magician could have a child, then drain that child,” she said, remembering how her magic had concentrated around her womb. “Or they could kidnap a newborn and drain her. Or...”

  “It’s been known to happen,” Lady Barb said, shortly. “And while rituals require a degree of consent, you know how easy it is to just strip magic and life force from an unwilling victim.”

  She helped Emily back to her feet. “We need to leave the chamber to finish draining away the magic,” she said, as she picked Emily up in a fireman’s carry. “It will take some time for it to be clean again.”

  Emily nodded, still feeling exhausted. Lady Barb carried her out of the chamber and back up the stairs, then placed her down gently on a chair in the library. Emily sat there and watched as Lady Barb resealed the bookshelf, then walked away and left her alone. She couldn’t muster the strength to move until Lady Barb returned, carrying a mug of hot Kava in her hands. Emily took it and sipped gratefully.

  “Be very careful with the drink,” Lady Barb warned her. “If you spill it on a book, my father will come back to murder you personally.”

  “I understand,” Emily said, quickly. She’d always hated people who damaged books – and that had started on Earth, where truly irreplaceable books were rare outside academic libraries. Here, where only a relative handful of books were printed on her printing presses, a damaged book might be impossible to replace. “I won’t spill a drop.”

  “See that you don’t,” Lady Barb said. She looked around, her gaze moving from shelf to shelf. “My father loved this room. He designed it personally.”

  Emily nodded, sipping her drink.

&n
bsp; “You did very well, for a beginner,” Lady Barb added. She looked up, meeting Emily’s eyes. “I would suggest that you don’t try again for several days, though. And don’t discuss this with anyone else. If Jade asks you what you were doing, tell him that I was forcing you to brew.”

  “I won’t,” Emily promised. The Kava made her feel better, although her magic felt weak and wan inside her. She couldn’t help wondering just how long it would take to regenerate. Her palm itched and she glanced at it, seeing two faint scars where Lady Barb had cut her. “What happened to the blood?”

  Lady Barb smiled and passed her the knife. Emily tried to cast a cleansing spell, but it refused to work properly. Lady Barb shook her head, then offered Emily a cloth. Emily cleaned the knife carefully, admiring the way the light glimmered off the silver blade, then put the cloth in her pocket. She knew better than to leave samples of her blood lying around, particularly after Shadye had used one to control her.

  “Sit here until you feel better,” Lady Barb urged. “I can find you a book, if you like, or we can chat...”

  “Batteries,” Emily said, as something clicked in her mind. “That’s why you showed me the ritual.”

  Storing magic wasn’t easy, if only because it tended to leech out into the surrounding atmosphere. The only way to lock it in for longer than a few hours was to use wards or dedicated spell-structures, which had to be carefully configured...and still tended to lose magical energy over a long period of time. Building semi-permanent wards was Fifth and Six Year level at Whitehall. But even wards weren’t raw magic.

  Emily had reasoned that the magic wouldn’t flow away if the magic had nowhere to go. If a pocket dimension was used as a storage space, the magic would be trapped. But her first experiments had been halted and while she’d done some theoretical work, she’d never been able to create a pocket dimension of her own. And she hadn’t worked out how to insert magic into the dimension.

  But the ritual might work, she saw now. All she would have to do was concentrate, cut her own palm and emit magic into the pocket dimension. It would be stored there...