“My family doesn’t think that way,” Tiega said.
“Then they’re being foolish,” Emily said. “Now, why did you cast the spell on Adana?”
“She was going on and on about her family,” Tiega said. “And about how she was going to be the Matriarch of House Ashworth one day. And then she called me an ugly troll half-breed.”
Emily winced. There were few worse insults in the Nameless World than suggesting that someone was a half-human hybrid. If there were people who taunted the Gorgon for being part of a twisted off-shoot of humanity... she shook her head in some irritation. No doubt Adana had played a role in her own downfall. Implying that Tiega’s father—or mother—had slept with a troll... for an adult, that would be practically an invitation to duel.
But that doesn’t excuse what Tiega did either, she thought.
She glanced at the other two beds. “What happened to Jasmine?”
“I asked her to leave me alone,” Tiega said. “I just... I just wanted to be alone.”
“This would be after you transformed Adana and concealed her,” Emily said. “After classes too, right?”
“Yeah,” Tiega said.
Emily rubbed her eyes. She didn’t want to issue punishments of any kind, but she knew her duty. Tiega had crossed the line when she’d made Adana miss class and there was no escaping it. “You know I can’t let you get away with this?”
“I know,” Tiega said. The bitterness in her voice shocked Emily. “My parents never let me get away with anything either.”
“Report to the Warden,” Emily said, tiredly. She’d feel guilty for hours, afterwards, yet there was no choice. “I believe Adana has suffered enough, but I will have a stern talk with her anyway.”
Tiega snorted, rudely.
“This Saturday, we’ll all learn some spells,” Emily added, ignoring the snort. If nothing else, teaching the younger girls how to defend themselves would be interesting. She’d taught Frieda a few tricks back in Mountaintop. “And maybe we can work on getting you and Adana to get along.”
She stepped backwards. She’d have to read Adana the riot act too, although she had the feeling Adana had learned her lesson. There were taunts you didn’t issue unless you wanted a fight. Tiega rose, reluctance clearly written in her movements. Emily didn’t blame her.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” Tiega said. “No one does.”
“I think you have talent,” Emily told her, firmly. She’d make sure to go through Tiega’s spell with her on Saturday. “And it’s high time you learned to use it.”
Chapter Thirteen
“EMILY,” ALOHA SAID, THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON. “Do you have a moment?”
Emily sighed. She’d just endured another ritual magic lesson that had been even less productive, if that was possible, than the first lesson and all she really wanted was to get a nap before she went for dinner. The only good news was that she’d picked up a letter from the mailbox when she’d entered the dorms, one she wanted to read as soon as possible. But she had the feeling that Aloha wasn’t inclined to take no for an answer.
She nodded curtly, then pressed her hand against the door and invited Aloha to step into her bedroom. Thankfully, Cabiria was gone. She hadn’t raised any objections to Caleb visiting, but the Head Girl was a different matter.
She’s probably in the library, Emily thought. Cabiria spent more time there than Emily did, which Emily would have sworn was impossible. Reading every book on the shelves.
She closed the door, then motioned for Aloha to take the chair while she sat on the bed and waited. The Head Girl looked tired, as if she was nursing a headache. Emily wasn’t too surprised. Aloha was in her final year of schooling and really shouldn’t be wasting her time supervising the mentorship program, as well as her other duties. But if she knew Aloha, there was no way she would consider giving up any of her responsibilities. She’d carry on until she graduated—or until she collapsed.
Aloha met her eyes. “What happened yesterday?”
Emily wasn’t surprised. There hadn’t been anything else, as far as she knew, that might demand Aloha’s attention. She was supervising the whole program, after all; she’d probably noted Adana missing a class and Tiega visiting the Warden. It was quite possible that she’d even know what was going on before Emily herself, although in that case Emily would have a few choice words for her. Adana could have been seriously injured—or killed—if the spell had worn off at the wrong time.
“Adana called Tiega something unforgivable,” Emily said, bluntly. “Tiega turned her into a frog and locked her in a cupboard on the seventh level. I dealt with it.”
She sighed. She’d had a long discussion with Adana after dinner, telling the younger girl that insulting someone’s family was almost certain to start a fight. Adana had offered a number of excuses, but Emily hadn’t been in the mood to hear them. There were no excuses, as far as she was concerned, for such insults. Besides, if Adana hadn’t learnt her lesson from spending several hours as a frog, she was probably past redemption anyway.
“So you did,” Aloha agreed. “Do you think you did the right thing?”
Emily scowled at her. “Do you think there was a better choice?”
“I need your answer,” Aloha said.
“I hate bullies,” Emily said, sharply. “And both of them acted badly.”
“That’s what happens,” Aloha said. “And they have to learn to defend themselves.”
“I would have said that Tiega defended herself very well,” Emily snapped. “You know, if she hadn’t done something that might have got another student killed.”
“Pot, meet kettle,” Aloha said.
Emily flushed. “That isn’t the same and you know it.”
“Not quite,” Aloha said. “But you did want to hurt someone badly.”
“I know my mistakes,” Emily said. She forced herself to calm down, somehow. “Are you about to tell me that I did the wrong thing?”
“You might be, if you start teaching them more spells,” Aloha said. “They do have to figure out how to learn on their own.”
“I’m not going to force them to learn,” Emily said. “Right now, though, they really need the training.”
“Which they can find in the library, same as you did,” Aloha said.
Emily took a breath. “Are you ordering me not to teach them some skills they will need in the future?”
“No,” Aloha said. She didn’t look angry, but there was an edge to her voice that Emily didn’t like. “I’m ordering you to be careful what you teach them.”
“I’m not going to teach them anything forbidden,” Emily said. “Just basic defensive spells.”
“And what will happen,” Aloha asked, “when your students are ahead of everyone else?”
“I thought the others can learn in the library,” Emily said. She resisted—barely—the urge to stick out her tongue. “If, of course, their mentors are unwilling to teach them.”
Emily sighed. “Perhaps we should make it a more formal activity,” she added, after a moment of thought. “Two or three of the mentors could host a class for the newcomers...”
“Which might well get us into trouble,” Aloha said. “If we accidentally give the newcomers something to unlearn...”
Emily rolled her eyes. Prank spells didn’t really give the students anything to learn, let alone unlearn. They were carefully designed to be irritating, but ultimately harmless... assuming, of course, they were cast on a magician. A mundane who was turned into a frog had very little chance of breaking the spell, regardless of which spell was used. One of the reasons so many magical students were herded into schools was to keep them away from everyone else.
“I’ll stick to the very basics,” she said, finally. “The spells I learned in First Year myself.”
“Make sure of it,” Aloha said. “And remember, you’re going to be tutoring six students at a time.”
Emily nodded in glum agreement. She’d taught Frieda, of course, b
ut that had been one on one—and Frieda had been very willing to learn. She had no idea if that was true of her students, although after a few weeks at Whitehall the newborn magicians would have very good reason to learn, if they hadn’t managed to pick up some spells on their own. By then, Professor Lombardi would have made sure to hammer some of the basics into their heads...
And rapped their palms a few times, she thought, ruefully. Professor Lombardi had no tolerance for mistakes. Better that than trying to cast a faulty spell.
Aloha shrugged. “Make sure you have time to listen to their other problems,” she added, “but remember—you can’t fix every one of their problems. They have to learn to cope with them themselves.”
Emily sighed. She couldn’t help feeling sorry for Tiega. There were hundreds of spells the younger girl could use to improve her appearance, but it was too late to wear a glamour to school. She had to wonder just how neglectful Tiega’s parents were, in refusing to do anything about her appearance... if, indeed, there was anything they could do about her appearance. Perhaps, just perhaps, there was some inhuman blood in Tiega’s background—or perhaps it was the result of a curse. If someone had cursed Tiega at a very young age...
Or maybe she was just unlucky, Emily thought. It doesn’t have to be a curse.
Aloha rose. “Be careful,” she said, as she headed for the door. “You could mess up their lives if you taught them the wrong thing.”
Emily looked at her. “Then why are you appointing any mentors?”
“Because too many students come to Whitehall with incomplete briefings,” Aloha said, tiredly. “How many students got hurt over the past twenty years because they didn’t know the dangers, let alone realize when they were getting into trouble?”
She nodded once, then walked out of the door, closing it firmly behind her. Emily stared at where she’d been for a long moment, shaking her head in dismay. On one hand, she couldn’t help agreeing with Gordian; mentoring younger students might prevent a whole string of near-disasters. But on the other, if there were real prospects for the mentors hampering the young students...
Gordian wants to make changes, she thought, as she picked up the letter from her desk and pressed her palm against the charm holding it closed. And not all of those changes can be perfectly implemented. He needs to learn what works and what doesn’t.
The charm faded away; she tore the letter open and removed a sheet of paper, reading it quickly. It was from Mistress Danielle, confirming that she would be able to meet Emily in Dragon’s Den, in the early afternoon. There was no suggestion she might be doing anything else, Emily noted; she honestly wasn’t sure what Mistress Danielle had been doing with herself, after Master Grey’s death. As a trained and experienced Mediator, she might be called back on active service at any time.
She read the letter twice, noting the instructions—Mistress Danielle apparently wanted to meet in an apartment she’d rented—then reached for a sheet of paper and hastily scribbled out a reply. She’d have to create a chat parchment for Mistress Danielle, Emily thought; she was far too used to instant communication. Sending letters seemed so old-fashioned. But there was no other way to ensure a certain degree of privacy.
There was a knock on the door as she finished folding up the letter. “Come in!”
The door opened. She looked up as Caleb stepped into the room. “How was class?”
“Bad,” Emily said. She rubbed her forehead. “I just can’t get the rituals to work properly.”
Caleb met her eyes. “They still don’t trust you?”
“Yes, I believe so,” Emily said. “Even the Gorgon had problems.”
“It’s not trust so much as an inability to relax and let the magic flow,” Caleb said, as he sat down on the bed. She’d discussed the problem with him, after remembering that he knew a little about ritual magics himself. “If your reserves are so much greater than theirs, they’re going to find it hard to relax next to you.”
“I don’t want to hurt them,” Emily said, frustrated.
“Accidents happen,” Caleb said, bluntly. He lowered his voice. “Do you want to practice with me?”
Emily shook her head, quickly. Quite apart from the risk of getting caught and expelled—which could be avoided if they practiced in her house, rather than the school—she wasn’t sure she wanted to lower her defenses that far in front of him. It was a little like being naked.
“I can extrude the magic,” she said, frustrated. “I just can’t get them to work with me long enough to actually do anything with it!”
“You could charge the runes yourself,” Caleb said. “But Lombardi would catch on, wouldn’t he?”
Emily nodded. She wasn’t sure how old Professor Lombardi actually was, but she hadn’t met a spell he couldn’t unravel. He’d accuse her of cheating—and she would be cheating—and then dismiss her from the class. Or, perhaps, tell her there were easier and less magic-intensive ways to produce light. And he’d be right, again.
Caleb leaned in to give her a kiss. “There is another possibility,” he said, as he drew back slowly. “Aloha would have taken ritual magic, wouldn’t she?”
“I’m not sure,” Emily said, after a moment. She had no idea what Aloha wanted to do with her life, but ritual magic was a useful skill to have. And she would have definitely needed it if she wanted to apprentice under Master Grey. “I think she must have.”
“Then ask her to partner with you,” Caleb suggested. “She might just be experienced enough to do it even when working with you.”
Emily stared at him. It wasn’t a bad idea, she had to admit; indeed, she could ask for one of the tutors to work the ritual with her. But she would have to get used to working with her classmates eventually... and what if Aloha said no? It wasn’t as if she could be forced to give up her time to help Emily learn. God alone knew what she was doing when Emily was supposed to have Ritual Magic.
“I could try,” she mused. “But what if she’s busy?”
“You’ll never know unless you ask,” Caleb pointed out. He leaned in to give her another kiss, his lips lingering on hers for a long second. Emily was too worried about her classes to lean into the kiss. “And if she’s busy then, you might be able to convince her to practice with you later.”
Emily’s heart fell. “Professor Lombardi forbade practicing outside of class,” she reminded him, bitterly. “She’ll refuse...”
“No, I mean ask Lombardi to supervise you,” Caleb said. “The worst he can do, if you ask ahead of time, is refuse.”
The worst he can do is have me expelled, Emily thought. But she had to admit Caleb had a point. Professor Lombardi was bound to have sensed the problem, even if he hadn’t found a solution beyond encouraging her partners to cope with the ritual. If I ask him first, he can say no without doing anything else.
“I suppose,” she said.
“You could ask through Master Tor,” Caleb said, thoughtfully. “He is supposed to be supervising us. He’d have access to your grades; he’d know you were failing the class.”
Emily ground her teeth together in frustration. She could draw the runic patterns; not easily, perhaps, but she could do it. She’d learned enough in the last four years to calculate the result of each pattern they were shown, then modify them to carry the mana long enough to work the spell. And yet, all of that was worthless without the ability to start a ritual and complete it successfully. She was in danger of failing through no fault of her own!
“I’d sooner ask Professor Lombardi directly,” Emily said. She wasn’t sure how Master Tor would react, but if he forbade her to ask for a stronger partner... she wouldn’t be able to take it to Professor Lombardi. “The worst he can do is say no.”
“Words of a genius,” Caleb teased.
“More like a smart-ass,” Emily said. She reached for a pillow and threatened to hit him with it. “But you’re right.”
Caleb preened. “Of course,” he said. “What else would I be?”
Emily nodded to the
letter on the desk. “I need to meet Mistress Danielle on Friday, but otherwise... we should have a half-day at Dragon’s Den. Do you mind if I leave you alone long enough to see her?”
Caleb looked hurt, his face twisting into a momentary scowl, but he nodded slowly. “She won’t want to see me too,” he said, reluctantly. “Just don’t let her sucker you into starting immediately.”
“I won’t,” Emily promised. “And afterwards...”
She frowned. “Would you let me teleport you there?”
“I trust you,” Caleb said. “But wouldn’t it tire you out before you meet her?”
Emily cursed. She should have thought of that. She’d been drained after her first successful teleport, particularly after punching though a number of wards before making her escape. Alassa had told her, afterwards, that Jade had been torn between being impressed with her power and furious at the mess she’d made of his work. Emily suspected, privately, that if Jade hadn’t needed to protect the entire castle, trying to teleport out would have proved a terminal mistake.
“Drat,” she said.
“Take a carriage,” Caleb said. He winked at her. “You should be able to get a drink there before you go to meet her. I’ll go source some more supplies for our project, then meet you afterwards.”
Emily smiled in relief. “That would be good,” she said. She met his eyes. “I wish we had more time.”
“Me too,” Caleb said. “We can put off starting our next step for a month or two, but after that we have to get working.”
“We really should get working sooner,” Emily said. She scowled as she realized she might just have over-committed herself. If she needed longer than a month to work with the younger students, she wasn’t sure where she’d find the time to work on the joint project with Caleb. “But I don’t know where we’ll find the time.”
“Maybe Professor Locke’s plan will go splat,” Caleb said. She’d told him enough about it for him to offer some good advice. “And then your Sundays will be free.”
Infinite Regress Page 13
