“Friends,” he agreed. He held out a hand. Emily shook it firmly. “Do you want to go to a play tomorrow?”
Emily found herself torn between laughing and crying. “A play?”
“There are some actors here,” Jade said. “They’re putting on a performance tomorrow – I think it’s The Folly of The Heart.”
Emily gave him a sharp look, then nodded. “I’d be glad to go,” she said. It wasn’t entirely untrue. She hadn’t seen any plays in the Allied Lands – or on Earth, for that matter. The closest had been an amateur performance of Romeo and Juliet at school, which hadn’t gone very well. Too many people had giggled when Romeo kissed Juliet. “And thank you.”
She stood, feeling the urge to get back to her bedroom and think about what had happened.
“I’ll pay for half the dinner,” she said, as Jade followed her. “It isn’t fair for you to pay all of it.”
“It isn’t a problem,” Jade assured her. The waiter reappeared, holding out a piece of elaborately-decorated parchment. Jade took it, passed him a pair of gold coins, then shoved the bill into his pocket. “Really.”
Emily frowned. The value of coins – even gold coins – was variable, but she’d never eaten a meal that cost so much in Dragon’s Den. Clearly, the cooks had a captive audience.
“I’ll walk you home,” Jade said. “Coming?”
Shaking her head, Emily followed him out the door and into the darkness.
Chapter Nine
“WELL,” LADY BARB SAID, THE FOLLOWING morning. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Emily shook her head as she sat down at the table, rubbing at her eyes. She hadn’t slept at all, if only because she had replayed her conversation with Jade over and over in her head. Part of her regretted agreeing to be just friends, part of her was relieved. And yet she still felt...snubbed, for want of a better word. Her feelings were a mess.
“No, thank you,” she said, finally. “I just need some sleep.”
“I noticed you didn’t sleep,” Lady Barb said. “Why didn’t you take something to make you sleep?”
Emily’s eyes narrowed, then she realized that the wards monitored her condition as long as she was in the house. Parents tended to use them to keep an eye on their children; Whitehall’s wards alerted the staff if someone was seriously hurt or bullied by someone in a higher year. It wasn’t something she liked, she had to admit. She’d spent most of her life hiding from her stepfather’s gaze.
“I didn’t feel like it,” she said, regretfully.
“You should have two more potions to brew,” Lady Barb said. She placed a plate of bacon and eggs in front of Emily, then reached out and touched her forehead. “I would suggest reading books, though. You’re bleeding magic.”
Emily looked down at her palm, then realized what Lady Barb meant. Magic responded to emotion and, the more she used her magic, the easier it was for her power to slip out of control and produce unpredictable effects. Most new magicians, she’d been told, were discovered after they produced their first spark of magic when hurt or upset. Emily herself was something of an exception to that rule, but only because she’d grown up on Earth.
“I’m sorry,” she said, slowly. “I...”
“Just go to the library after breakfast or take a sleeping potion,” Lady Barb told her. She sat down facing Emily and opened a parchment letter. “We have our official orders.”
Emily lifted an eyebrow, so Lady Barb held out the parchment for her to read. It was written in the old language, forcing her to struggle to decipher it. Not for the first time, she wondered just how Whitehall had managed to get so far without phonetic letters. If it hadn’t been for translation spells, she doubted half of the students could even read. She’d certainly needed one for her first year at the school.
The orders seemed simple enough, but the writer had padded them out. Lady Barb and her apprentice – Emily wasn’t mentioned by name – were ordered to walk through the Cairngorm Mountains, helping the locals and searching for traces of magic. If they found anyone with new magic, they were to provide basic instruction and then invite the new magician to Whitehall or one of the other magical schools. There wasn’t anything more specific, much to Emily’s surprise, apart from a note about wages and discretionary funds. Emily was barely being paid enough to stay alive. Somehow, she wasn’t surprised. Her experience on Earth had taught her that student workers were often grossly underpaid.
“Interesting,” Lady Barb said. “Here.”
She passed Emily a second note. Emily read it, quickly. It warned that a handful of children had been reported missing in the Cairngorms, all too young to have developed magic. Emily looked up, worried. Missing children were never a good sign.
“Could be werewolves,” Lady Barb said. “There’s a werewolf pack on the other side of the mountains. Or vampires. Or plain old human unpleasantness. We’ll see what we see when we get there.”
Emily nodded. “There’s a letter for you,” Lady Barb added. “The Grandmaster forwarded it here. No one else knows where you are.”
Jade does, Emily thought as she took the letter. And so does Master Grey.
The letter was enfolded in creamy white paper, sealed with a spell that ensured that only the recipient could read it. Emily frowned down at it for a long moment, then opened it with her bare hands. She knew from experience that using anything else, even a paper knife, might convince the spell that someone unauthorized was trying to read it, destroying the paper and erasing the message. Inside, there was another sheet of expensive paper. She pulled it out and read it, carefully.
“They’re asking me to host the next Faire in Zangaria?”
Lady Barb looked up, surprised. “Interesting,” she said. “I wonder how many deals were made behind the curtains.”
Emily hesitated, rereading the letter. It was simple and quite uninformative, as if the writer had assumed that she would know what he was talking about. He wanted the next magical gathering to be held in Zangaria, in Cockatrice. Emily read it a third time, then looked up at Lady Barb. The older woman seemed more amused than puzzled.
“Well,” Emily said. “Should I agree?”
Lady Barb considered it. “The Faire is traditionally neutral,” she said. “It won’t reflect badly on you to host it, if you wish to do so.”
“And I should show off some of the other innovations in Zangaria,” Emily said, thoughtfully. “Let word spread far and wide.”
She gritted her teeth. Some innovations had spread far already, others were moving slower than she would have preferred...and some she would prefer to keep under wraps. But she wasn’t entirely sure just how many innovations Lin had managed to steal before she’d vanished from Whitehall. It was quite possible that whoever was backing her knew about gunpowder, cannons and steam engines. Emily hadn’t expected to keep the latter a secret – they’d shown off a very basic locomotive in Zangaria – but the others would really upset the balance of power.
“It would,” Lady Barb agreed, tonelessly. “Still, it’s your choice. No one will think any more or less of you if you say yes or no.”
Emily looked down at the letter one final time, then made up her mind. “I’ll write to Bryon,” she said. “He can have permission to arrange everything and I’ll leave it in his hands.”
Lady Barb shrugged. “Go to the library after you finish breakfast,” she said, again. “Or go back to bed.”
Emily nodded. Once the breakfast was finished, she walked back into the library and settled down in front of the books Lady Barb had found for her. The final book on enchantment talked about anchoring a pocket dimension to an object, outlining the basic spells to create a trunk that was bigger on the inside than on the outside. Emily had seen the spells before, but these were actually simpler. Yodel’s book had skipped quite a few stages in creating pocket dimensions. She worked her way through the book, feeling exhaustion slipping up on her...
The next thing she knew, someone was poking her in the arm. She started
awake, embarrassed. Lady Aylia had told her that sometimes students had to be awakened in the library, before their snores grew loud enough to trigger the security spells. Lady Barb laughed at her confusion, then helped her sit upright. Emily’s arms ached from lying on the books.
“You’re lucky my father didn’t see you doing that,” Lady Barb said, dryly. “He would have been furious.”
Emily nodded, blearily. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep...”
“You’ve been asleep for nearly six hours,” Lady Barb told her. “I think you probably needed it.”
She looked down at Emily’s notes. “What are you planning this time?”
Emily had to smile at the resigned note in the older woman’s voice. “A protective shelter,” she said, seriously. “A pocket dimension capable of hiding someone from pursuit.”
Lady Barb frowned. “You do realize that such a dimension might not be safe?”
“I know,” Emily said.
The books hadn’t been too clear, but she’d reasoned out that time did funny things inside pocket dimensions. It didn’t flow at all within her trunk, keeping whatever she’d locked inside in stasis, while other pocket dimensions sped up time or slowed it down. Whitehall didn’t seem to have those problems, but Whitehall had a nexus for power. There was no way a single magician could produce anything akin to the school.
“You’d also have problems getting out,” Lady Barb added. “I don’t think you could open a gateway back to the normal world.”
Emily scowled. She had a feeling that the energy levels required to get into the pocket dimension were much smaller than the energy levels required to get out. There was no way to be sure, though. Whitehall’s best researchers hadn’t come up with a way of measuring magic like electricity.
“I could program the dimension to open up automatically after a set period of time,” Emily said. “If the dimension was still anchored to this world...”
“It might work,” Lady Barb said, after a moment of silent contemplation. “However, I would advise you to be very careful. Being trapped in a pocket dimension might be fatal.”
Emily nodded.
“Tell me,” Lady Barb said, changing the subject. “Did you make any plans with Jade?”
“We’re going to see a play tonight,” Emily said. “I...”
Lady Barb studied her for a long moment. Emily scowled, inwardly. She wasn’t quite used to the idea of someone looking after her, even Lady Barb. God knew Emily’s mother had been more interested in drinking herself to death then paying attention to her daughter. Emily could have worn the skimpiest of clothes and stayed out all night; her mother would never have noticed. But Lady Barb definitely would.
Emily wasn’t sure how she felt about that either. It felt nice to have someone looking out for her, but at the same time she didn’t like having someone looking over her shoulder. Her mother had betrayed her and she didn’t really want another mother, no matter how nice it felt to have someone caring. Maybe she should compromise at big sister.
“Make sure you have a proper nap tonight,” Lady Barb ordered, finally. If she had doubts about Emily meeting Jade again, she kept them to herself. “I’ll expect you to catch up with your potions tomorrow, or you won’t be going out again.”
Yes, mother, Emily thought, even though she knew it was immature. She also knew why Lady Barb wanted her to master the potions. In the mountains, there were no alchemists or apothecaries. She would have to make the potions the locals needed or they would have to go without. Lady Barb would be too busy discussing other matters with them.
“I will,” she promised.
“Good,” Lady Barb said. She made a show of checking her watch. “The play is at nineteen bells, so I suggest you have a wash and then dress in a different set of robes.”
Emily looked down at her matted robes and scowled. They were designed to survive everything from alchemical accidents to pranks played by the students on each other, but they couldn’t disguise the fact she’d fallen asleep in them. Standing up, she nodded to Lady Barb and walked out of the library, leaving the books behind. A moment later, she heard Lady Barb clearing her throat loudly.
“Watch your notes,” she warned, picking up the pieces of paper and shoving them at Emily. “You never know who might be watching.”
Flushing, Emily took the notes and returned to her bedroom, where she buried them under a handful of security wards. She would have to copy them down into her notebooks later, she knew; there was no point in erecting solid wards over the pieces of paper and parchment she’d used in the library. Cursing, she removed the pendant and looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was pale and there were dark shadows under her eyes. The sight bothered her more than she cared to admit. Walking into the bathroom, she undressed and washed quickly, allowing the cold water to shock her awake. She was barely dressed again when she felt the wards quiver in welcome.
“That’s Jade,” Lady Barb called, as Emily hurriedly pulled the pendant over her head. “Be careful, all right?”
Emily nodded, although she knew Lady Barb couldn’t see her. Just how much had the older woman guessed? She had far more experience than Emily; she’d probably read the full story off Emily’s face in the morning. And then a sleepless night wasn’t a good sign...shaking her head, she walked downstairs and nodded to Jade. He’d clearly exchanged a few words with Lady Barb.
“Thank you for coming,” Emily said, as they walked through the gates. “I had no idea where to meet you.”
Jade looked at her, surprised. “What did you say to her?” He asked. “She was quite insistent that I should behave myself.”
“Nothing,” Emily said, wondering just what conclusions Lady Barb had drawn. Did she think Jade had molested her in some way? But Jade wasn’t that sort of person. Besides, molesting a student would draw the wrath of the Grandmaster...and Lady Barb herself. And Void, in Emily’s case. “I just didn’t sleep very well.”
Jade said nothing, leaving Emily wondering just how easy it would be to maintain a friendship after a semi-relationship. They walked down the hill and into a larger tent, the largest Emily had yet seen. Inside, it had been set up like a theatre, with a large stage at one end of the room and uncomfortable-looking benches lined up and crammed with people. Emily smiled at the sight of a handful of comfy chairs, clearly reserved for the elderly or important people, then sat down on one of the benches. Jade sat next to her and cast a silencing ward as the tent slowly filled to the limits.
“This play dates back to the days of the Empire,” Jade explained, as the magical lights started to dim, focusing attention on the stage. “The basic plot hasn’t changed at all.”
Emily had her doubts about that, but she kept them to herself as the actors appeared on stage and the performance began. Most of the special effects were literal magic, she saw, more interesting and exciting than any play performed on Earth. The plot itself seemed a little confusing at first, until around thirty minutes into the performance. It clicked in Emily’s mind.
“But love is mine to take and hold,” the male lead proclaimed. “Love to be found where I choose.”
“And yet, love blinds one to the truth,” the secondary female lead warned. “You cannot hope to gift the gifted.”
Emily couldn’t help thinking of Doctor Faustus. The male lead had fallen in love with a mundane woman, a woman possessing no magic at all. It wasn’t a choice his family approved, unsurprisingly, and they were very unpleasant to the poor girl. The actress playing the mundane woman was turned into a pig, a goat and a donkey in the first act alone, despite the best efforts of her lover. And then her lover had made a bargain with a demon to grant her magic powers. But the price turned out to be more than they could pay.
“You ordained that power would be granted in spite of the gods,” an actor proclaimed, calling out the male lead. “Did you always assume it came without a price?”
“I loved her, I know, and yet I love her still,” the male lead countered. “But I no lo
nger know why.”
Emily shivered. The demon’s price for granting the woman magic powers had been their love for one another, all that held them together. They might still be physical lovers, but the sensation of true love was gone. How could the relationship last when they were little more than friends with benefits? In the end, the couple parted, no longer truly lovers.
“The play is popular,” Jade explained, when the actors finally took their leave. “But I don’t know why.”
“I think I do,” Emily said. Perhaps it was her studies on Earth, but she thought she understood. “It’s a warning.”
She scowled. It was a warning to children of magical families, warning them not to marry powerless mundanes. The power imbalance in the relationship could destroy it, completely. But really...what was the difference between a man being strong enough to beat his wife when she disobeyed him and a woman having the power to turn her man into a frog for being a bastard? Power wasn’t just counted in magic.
But a wife could fight back against her husband, she thought. A mundane couldn’t fight a magician.
She allowed Jade to lead her to a smaller eatery, then sat down beside him for dinner. It was easier talking to him now, she decided, even though he seemed to want to spend most of the time talking about his apprenticeship. Emily listened, filing everything he told her away in her mind. One day, she knew, she might well have a full apprenticeship herself. But she didn’t want it with someone so determined to kill anyone who challenged him.
“It’s not common for a male sorcerer to take a female apprentice,” Jade cautioned her. “I think the only exceptions were when the sorcerer was more interested in men than women.”
Emily smiled. Homosexuality wasn’t taboo, but it was hedged around by customs and traditions that seemed to change depending on wealth or social class. A magician wouldn’t draw any raised eyebrows if he was doing the penetrating, yet he would be sneered at if he allowed himself to be penetrated. Emily suspected the taboo said more about men than anyone would care to admit. There was nothing comparable for lesbians.
Work Experience (Schooled in Magic Book 4) Page 9
