Past Tense (Schooled in Magic Book 10)

by Christopher Nuttall

  No hen night then, Emily thought. She was almost relieved. Alassa’s hen nights had been events she wouldn’t forget in a hurry. Just ... just a rush to get married.

  She took a breath. “Do you ... do you need any other advice?”

  Julianne laughed. “I’ve had plenty of advice,” she said. “Do you know how frank some of the older women become when they know you’re going to get married?”

  “No,” Emily said, honestly.

  “They do,” Julianne said. “I learned more about men and sex in two days than I learned in nineteen years.”

  “That’s good to hear,” Emily said. Lady Barb had given her the talk—and she’d seen a handful of pornographic movies—but she was still a virgin. She would have felt odd telling Julianne how to do something she’d never done herself. “And I hope it works out for you.”

  Julianne gave her an odd look. “Are you not planning to stay?”

  Emily cursed herself under her breath. “I’m not sure,” she lied, reluctantly. “But you and Bernard will need some time alone.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  EMILY HAD SEEN TWO WEDDINGS SINCE coming to the Nameless World, Melissa’s marriage to Markus and Alassa’s marriage to Jade. She’d wondered just what Julianne’s wedding to Bernard would look like, but it seemed to be remarkably similar to the very basic ceremony they’d held for Melissa and Markus. There was, in fact, a surprising lack of ceremony; Bernard and Robin stood on one side, in front of Master Chambers, while Julianne and her father stood on the other. The men wore white shirts and pants; Julianne wore a long white dress that fell loosely to the stone floor. Emily stood next to Master Wolfe and watched, curiously, as the ceremony began.

  “Master Whitehall, father of the bride,” Master Chambers said. “Do you consent to this union?”

  “I do,” Whitehall said.

  “Apprentice Robin, speaker for the groom,” Master Chambers continued. “Do you testify that the groom is fit to be a husband?”

  Robin reached down to hold his hand over his crotch. “I swear it by my manhood and my power,” he said. “May it wither if I lie.”

  Emily had to fight to keep the disgust from her face. She’d known the root of the word testify, but she’d never seen it in practice. To swear by one’s manhood ... Robin must be very sure that Bernard was a good man. It made her wonder, deep inside, if a woman could testify as well. There had been courts—and not just in the Nameless World—that considered a woman’s word to be far less than a man’s.

  Master Chambers produced a small silver knife from his robes. “Master Bernard,” he said, calmly. Whitehall had granted Bernard his mastery yesterday. “Are you willing to pledge yourself to Julianne, Daughter of Whitehall? To be her husband and protector, to father her children and raise them as your own?”

  “I am,” Bernard said.

  He held out his hand. Master Chambers cut it once, then held it up so everyone could see red blood welling up from the wound. Emily felt sick, despite herself. The dangers of blood magics weren’t well understood yet—wouldn’t be understood for hundreds of years—yet watching them use such magics with abandon chilled her to the bone. It was dangerous, far too dangerous ...

  “Julianne, Daughter of Whitehall,” Master Chambers said. “Are you willing to pledge yourself to Master Bernard. To be his wife and helpmate, to bear his children and raise them?”

  “I am,” Julianne said.

  Emily forced herself to remain still as Master Chambers made a cut in Julianne’s hand, held it up for everyone to see, then motioned for them to join their hands, allowing their blood to mingle. There was a pulse of magic, echoing through the air for a long second; they stared at each other with faintly soppy expressions, then kissed. The apprentices cheered and whistled loudly; the masters, more restrained, merely looked on approvingly. Emily couldn’t help feeling cold, even though she was happy for her friends. Julianne had just bound herself to Bernard permanently.

  And vice versa, she told herself. He’s bound to her, too.

  Master Chambers turned Bernard and Julianne around, then shook Whitehall’s hand before walking over to Master Reaper, who was leaning against the wall and watching with a faintly amused expression. Master Keldor stood next to him, his face unreadable. Emily turned back to Julianne as she and her new husband approached—they were still holding hands—and gave her a tight hug. Bernard merely nodded to her as a gaggle of male apprentices hooted and hollered.

  The hall was quickly cleared as a band began to play, allowing Bernard to lead Julianne onto the floor for the first dance. Emily made her way to the wall and watched, missing Caleb more than she cared to admit, as other couples joined them, whirling around the dance floor with more enthusiasm than skill. Not, she supposed, that it mattered. There was no need to follow strict rules, no need to dance perfectly. The only thing that mattered was having fun ...

  ... But she would have felt bad about dancing without Caleb.

  She caught sight of Whitehall, standing on the far side of the hall and made her way over to him. He was a good catch himself, she knew—a trained magician, probably still capable of fathering children—but he hadn’t made any attempt to take any of the women, young or old, onto the dance floor. Instead, he watched his daughter and his new son-in-law with a weary expression, as if he was too tired to think straight. Emily felt a stab of sympathy for him. It couldn’t be easy to know his daughter was now a wife, even though he liked and trusted Bernard.

  “Lady Emily,” Whitehall said.

  Emily met his eyes. “Are you all right?”

  “Just tired,” Whitehall said. Emily could have kicked herself. Whitehall might be fantastically progressive, by the standards of the time, but he wouldn’t unburden his heart to a young girl. “And thinking about the future.”

  Emily looked at Bernard and Julianne. “They’re the future.”

  “Yes,” Whitehall agreed. There was an odd edge to his voice. “They are.”

  He looked past Emily. Emily turned, just in time to see Robin walking up behind her. His eyes were still downcast, as if he was reluctant to even look at her.

  “Emily,” he said, gravely. “Please, would you dance with me?”

  Emily was tempted to refuse. She didn’t share the general attitude towards dancing that was so prevalent on the Nameless World—the future Nameless World—but dancing with another man felt just a little like being unfaithful. And Robin could have danced with any of the girls, if he’d had the nerve to ask them onto the floor. Surely, a man who had summoned demons and bent them to his will wouldn’t be nervous of a girl ...

  And it might help, she thought, if I do dance with him.

  “Just one dance,” she said. “And then I should be gone.”

  Robin took her hand and led her onto the dance floor, keeping his eyes low. Emily would have wondered if he was trying to keep his eyes on her breasts, if it hadn’t been clear that he was peering at the floor. Robin wasn’t a bad dancer, she had to admit, but there was something about the way he moved that suggested she wasn’t holding his attention, as if he was constantly distracted with a greater thought.

  “I need to show you something,” he muttered, as the dance came to an end. “It’s to do with the future.”

  Emily tensed. She’d assumed that no one could or would guess the truth of her origins. It wasn’t as if anyone knew about alternate worlds, let alone time travel. And yet, Robin seemed to know the truth. She didn’t want to be alone with him, not after their last private conversation, but what he had to say couldn’t be for anyone else’s ears.

  “We can talk in the classroom down the hall,” she hissed. “That’s far away enough to allow us to talk in private.”

  She allowed him to pull her off the dance floor as she looked around for Bernard and Julianne. They’d already slipped off, probably to consummate the marriage. Unless the traditions were very different from the ones in her time, the match would not be legal—blood magic or no—until they’d actually sle
pt together. A number of other couples were already forming up, it seemed. Emily couldn’t help wondering if the masters were going to be prowling the corridors, reminding youngsters that they shouldn’t be getting intimate before marriage. There was no welfare for unmarried mothers on the Nameless World.

  And contraception may not be reliable either, she thought. Did all of the newcomers have a chance to take a potion?

  The classroom was dark and shadowy. Emily cast a light globe into the air as Robin closed the door and turned to face her. His eyes were still fixed on the ground. He was breathing heavily, his mouth opening and closing rapidly. She felt herself tense again as she readied defensive spells. If he had something unpleasant in mind, and she was starting to suspect he’d lured her away under false pretences, he was in for a nasty shock.

  “They wouldn’t talk about you,” Robin said. She was suddenly very aware of the presence of an invisible demon, perched on his shoulder. “Nothing I could offer them was enough to get them to talk about you.”

  Emily frowned. “The demons?”

  “I kept asking them about you,” Robin said. His voice was light and breathy. “They wouldn’t say anything.”

  “You talked about the future,” Emily said, carefully.

  “Our future,” Robin said. He looked up. Emily saw glints of red within his eyes. “We are destined to be together.”

  He’s mad, Emily thought. Robin’s eyes weren’t quite the same shade as Master Gila’s, before his death, but it wouldn’t be long before the madness consumed him. He’s spent too long summoning demons -- and they’ve tainted him.

  “They wouldn’t show me visions of my future either,” Robin continued. He’d tricked her, she realized; no, she’d effectively tricked herself. Robin, quite by accident, had stumbled on something that had been bound to make her pay attention. “And that means that your future and mine are entangled.”

  “Or that you don’t have a future,” Emily snapped. She readied herself. She’d have to blast him out of the way, then run through the door and escape. Whitehall could decide what to do with him. “Maybe neither of us has a future.”

  “We do have a future,” Robin said. “Together.”

  He spoke a word she didn’t recognize. There was a surge of power ... she tried to raise her defenses, only to discover that the spell was already inside her defenses. It felt like blood magic, but it wasn’t blood magic. Her body quivered as she tried desperately to muster her resistance, her mind racing as she tried to analyze and counter the spell. It was an order of magnitude more powerful and complex than anything she’d seen from any of the commune, even Master Wolfe. She would have thought, if she hadn’t known better, that it was tied directly into the nexus point.

  The spell won. Her hands dropped to her sides, helplessly. A dull feeling enveloped her mind, making it hard to feel fear, or panic, or anger. She felt almost as if she were drifting over her body, looking down helplessly as it waited, at Robin’s mercy. The spell pulsed around her, holding her in thrall. She knew she should feel terrified—she knew how easily such a spell could be abused—but she felt nothing.

  “I knew it,” Robin said. He clapped his hands together in glee. “I knew it would work.”

  Emily forced herself to think, despite the dull lethargy slowly infesting her thoughts. Had a demon given Robin the spell, even though it was vastly more complex than anything he’d been able to coax out of them before? Or was there another visitor from the future? She’d never seen such a complex piece of spellware, but Void or Professor Lombardi would probably have been able to cast it. Robin ... Robin was nowhere near their level. It just didn’t make sense.

  Robin giggled. “And we are meant to be together,” he said, his voice becoming terrifyingly unhinged. “And now you are mine.”

  He leaned forward. “Kneel.”

  Emily struggled, desperately, but it was useless. Her body dropped to its knees, the long dress she’d borrowed from Julianne bunching up around her legs. He couldn’t mean to force himself on her, could he? Of course he did, her own thoughts responded. Robin was mad enough to believe they were meant to be together and so everything he did to win her was justified. His trembling fingers started to struggle with his fly as he leered down at her.

  “Open your mouth,” he ordered. He seemed to be having trouble unbuckling his trousers, but she knew it wouldn’t last. “Open and ...”

  Rage blasted through her, so powerful she quite lost control. The rune on her chest blazed with fire, the pain shocking her out of her trance. Void’s protections, part of her mind recalled; they’d been pushed back, but they hadn’t been beaten. The spell evaporated into nothingness, her magic growing stronger and stronger as her anger grew into a hurricane of pure energy. She opened her mouth and screamed in rage.

  Robin’s eyes went wide with shock and fear, a second before she rose and lashed out at him with a burst of raw magic. His shields were formidable, more powerful than she’d realized, but they crumpled like paper under her rage. How dare he? How dare he? He stumbled to one side, her power tearing through the walls and cracking the stone; she was dimly aware, on some level, of the castle’s makeshift wards trying to suppress her rage before it was too late.

  But it was already too late.

  She turned, fire building behind her eyes. Robin was staring at her in absolute horror, his weakling magic starkly revealed by her rage. The demon on his shoulder was clearly visible, but utterly unmoving. She should have felt its malice, yet all she felt was her own overpowering rage. Hot fury burned around her as her anger built into a crescendo, a tidal wave of fire that fell on Robin like the hammer of God. His body exploded into bloody fragments, her power streaming on and smashing through the walls. She was dimly aware of someone shouting, the voice so tinny that the shouter seemed miles away, as the entire building shook. The wards Master Wolfe had worked so hard to build seemed to have vanished ...

  ... And Robin was dead.

  She sank back to her knees and closed her eyes as all the energy started to fade away into the ether. Her eyes hurt, power pulsing behind them; her entire body felt tired and drained. Only the grim certainty that she didn’t dare fall into the darkness, that she didn’t dare let herself be rendered helpless, kept her awake and aware. She hadn’t felt so vulnerable, even after facing Master Grey for the final time. Even Whitehall might choose to slit her throat while she was helpless.

  There was a dull ringing in her ears, as if someone was whispering to her from a far distance; she gritted her teeth, then forced herself to open her eyes. A demon, a faintly-translucent demon, was standing in front of her, the form too indistinct for her to make it out clearly. It shimmered a moment later and was gone, but she could still feel its presence at the back of her mind. And yet, Robin was dead. Surely his demon should have returned to the darkness by now. Unless it was still tied to his Book of Pacts ...

  It was hard, so hard, to think clearly. Where was Robin’s Book of Pacts?

  He couldn’t have been carrying it, she thought, numbly. There was no room for a book.

  She looked up, suddenly very aware of just how much damage she’d done to the castle. The room had practically been shattered, the rear walls smashed and broken ... she was privately surprised she hadn’t brought the roof down. She looked up and winced at the cracks and scars in the stonework. Whoever had designed the castle had designed it to channel raw magic, she was sure, but they hadn’t expected a magician to start lashing out at the wards ...

  “Emily,” Whitehall called. Emily realized, in her dazed state, that the door was gone and the doorway was nothing more than a pile of stone. “Emily, what happened?”

  They’ll all have sensed the surge of magic, Emily thought, numbly. They’ll know it was me.

  She tried, desperately, to think of a convincing story. But there was nothing, nothing that wouldn’t be exposed as a lie within seconds. She’d tried to hide her true power ...

  ... But that was now nothing more than a waste of ti
me.

  “Robin,” she managed. She wanted to be sick. He’d intended to dominate her, humiliate her, rape her ... and he would have, if she’d not broken his control. And it had been sheer luck that she’d managed to escape his spell. “Robin ...he tried ...”

  She stumbled, the world spinning mercilessly around her. Whitehall put out a hand to help her regain her balance, but she shook him off angrily. Her eyes were still hurting, as if she’d stared right into a bright light for an instant too long. She was suddenly very aware that everyone who’d been on the dance floor had probably sensed the surge of magic. No, there was no probably about it. They would have sensed the surge of magic. She wondered, as she fought down the urge to giggle, just what Tama was thinking now. He’d never imagined she might be able to do real damage to the castle, let alone a young man on the verge of mastery.

  “Julianne, take Emily back to her bedroom,” Whitehall ordered. Where had Julianne come from? Emily wanted to argue—she’d interrupted Julianne’s wedding night—but she knew there was no point. “Everyone else, clear off. The party is over.”

  “Yes, Father,” Julianne said.

  “Sorry,” Emily murmured, through the haze. Julianne didn’t deserve to lose her wedding night. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Julianne said, briskly. “Just come with me.”

  Emily did as she was told, feeling her head starting to pound. The demon was still there. She could feel it. Whitehall could probably feel it too ... he wasn’t going to be pleased. What was it doing? She hadn’t summoned it ... Robin had summoned it. And it should be gone.

  “Go back to Bernard,” she managed, when they stumbled into the bedroom. Julianne should have been sharing a room with her husband. “Go ...”

  “I’m staying,” Julianne said, firmly.

  Emily nodded, then—with the last of her strength—warded the room as thoroughly as she could. It was hard to make the spells work through the pain, but she had no choice. Julianne would be trapped until she awoke, she knew, yet there was nothing she could do about that, not without weakening the wards ...