The Zero Equation (The Zero Enigma Book 3)

by Christopher Nuttall

  I removed the dispeller from my belt and pressed it against the frog. There was a flash of light and an older girl - wearing a fifth-year uniform - appeared in front of us, on her hands and knees. She straightened up hastily, brushing her brown hair back into plaits. Her face was deathly pale. I couldn't help wondering just how long she’d been a frog.

  Akin gasped. “You’re an upperclassman?”

  I was just as surprised. I’d thought upperclassmen didn't hex each other for fun. They were too busy bossing us lowerclassmen around, when they weren't studying for their exams. But the girl was definitely at least four years older than we were. There were aging potions, but I couldn't imagine anyone actually taking them. The risks were too great for anything other than dire need.

  “... Yes,” the girl stammered. I saw a trace of fright in her eyes as she looked at me. “I ...”

  She stood up, clearing her throat. “Get along to lunch or I’ll give you lines.”

  Akin looked at me, then shrugged. “Let’s go.”

  We walked through the door and down the corridor. “That wasn't very grateful of her,” Rose said, as soon as we were out of earshot. “You’d think she’d say thanks, at least.”

  I shrugged. “We’re firsties,” I pointed out. “She was probably cringing with horror at the thought of having to beg us for help.”

  “Yeah,” Akin agreed. He laughed. “Getting turned into a frog - and trapped as a frog - would be bad enough at her age, but being helped by a trio of firsties ...”

  “It’s stupid,” Rose protested. “What does it matter?”

  “Everyone will be laughing at her, later,” I said. “Or they would be laughing, if they knew the truth. They’d certainly never take her seriously.”

  “But I couldn't lift the spell,” Rose said. “Akin couldn't lift the spell. You had to do it, with an Object of Power.”

  “That won't be included in the retelling,” Akin pointed out. “They’ll keep focused on us.”

  “Stupid,” Rose muttered.

  I nodded in agreement - I’d grown up knowing that children five years younger than me had more magic in their fingernails than I had in my entire body - and then frowned as the implications struck me. I hadn't had a chance to take the spellform apart, but I’d seen enough of it to know that it was an adult-grade spell. It reminded me of the spell Great Aunt Stregheria had used on me and my sisters. Who’d cast it? An older student? Or had the poor girl simply stumbled over a trap someone had hidden in a disused part of the school?

  “We won’t mention it to anyone,” I said, as we walked into the dining hall. A number of students were already filing out, probably heading down to the common rooms before the bell rang for class. “And we’ll do our best to ignore her if we see her again.”

  “Unless we need a favour from an upperclassman,” Akin said, practically. “She’ll pay us to keep our mouths shut.”

  Rose rolled her eyes. “Would anyone believe us if we told?”

  “Point,” Akin agreed.

  I took a tray from the kitchen hatch and looked around for a place to sit. Half the students appeared to be missing, but there was something hanging in the air. Normally, conversation would be loud, despite the wards thrumming in the air; now, conversation was quiet and stilted, students huddling together in small groups. Hostile looks were being exchanged between some of the larger groups, all centred on scions of the aristocracy. Akin and I seemed to be attracting some attention too.

  Rose nudged me as we sat down at the firstie table. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know,” I muttered back. We were the only firsties in the hall. “Akin?”

  Akin shrugged listlessly, then tucked into his sausage and mash with every evidence of enjoyment. I glanced around, feeling unfriendly eyes resting on me, then dug into my own meal. We’d dawdled so long that we only had twenty minutes to finish before the bell. I didn't want to have to run to class on a full stomach. And yet, I felt as if they were watching me as I ate. It was worse than attending one of Mum’s practice banquets, with the grand dames just watching and waiting for me to make a mistake.

  “Maybe they lost a duelling contest,” Akin speculated, once he’d cast a privacy ward around our little bubble. “Or maybe they got caught cheating.”

  Rose took a bite of her food. “Wouldn't they be expelled for cheating?”

  “It depends,” I said. It might depend on who and what their parents were, but I wasn't going to tell her that. Rose had come far too close to being expelled in her first months because of me. “If they actually managed to fool the anti-cheating spells, they might get rewarded ...”

  “They’d also be in deep trouble,” Akin pointed out. “They’d lack the background to actually understand what they were doing.”

  I nodded in agreement. Magic rarely allowed shortcuts to power and success. It was why the handful of really powerful Objects of Power were regarded as being incredibly dangerous in the wrong hands. One of those rare objects could kick a man right to the top, as long as he was wearing it. But without one, the only way to survive and prosper as a sorcerer was to learn the fundamentals first before moving on to the more advanced spells. An ignorant magician who’d somehow managed to cheat his way through school would be exposed soon enough.

  “Maybe they just lost a football game,” I speculated. I didn't think the upperclassmen were allowed to play sports in the morning, but I’d never paid that much attention to their timetables. “Or ...”

  I frowned as I finished my meal, allowing my eyes to roam the room. There were several groups eying the others warily, their faces showing varying degrees of hostility. It didn't look as though one side had lost a match. Maybe they’d been forced to compete against each other or something. I’d heard the upperclassmen were supposed to learn and work in groups.

  “Ah,” Rose muttered. “Cat ...”

  I looked up. Isabella had entered the room and was now striding over to us, her long blonde ponytail glinting in the light. Her blue eyes flickered over us, lingering on me just long enough to make me feel uncomfortable, then focused on Akin. He looked back at her, evenly. I didn't think he wanted to listen to her.

  “I need a word with you, brother of mine,” Isabella said, icily. She glanced at me, then shrugged dismissively. It would have hurt if I hadn't known I was unique. “Alone.”

  “I’m eating my dinner,” Akin said. His voice was very calm, but I heard the edge in it. He didn't want to talk to her any more than I did. “Go away.”

  “You can stuff your face later,” Isabella told him. She rested her palms on the table, glaring at him. “We need to talk.”

  They stared at each other for a long moment, neither one willing to back down. I wondered just who would win if they started trying to hex each other, although I doubted their father would be happy if they got into a very public fight. Families were supposed to support each other in public ... the thought cost me a twinge of pain. My sisters had never supported me. I supposed Alana resented me as much as Isabella resented Akin ...

  “We’ll talk tonight, after class,” Akin said, firmly. He made a show of taking another bite of food and chewing it slowly. “I don’t have time now.”

  “Father says you should talk to me,” Isabella hissed. Two red spots appeared on her pale cheeks. I had the impression she would have started shouting if we hadn't been surrounded by upperclassmen. “Akin ...”

  “Later,” Akin snapped. “Go away.”

  Isabella lifted her hand, then stopped herself before she could cast a spell. “After class,” she said, coldly. “Immediately after class. And alone. None of your ... friends.”

  I tensed, wondering which friends she meant. Akin’s hangers-on? Or us? Maybe both. Isabella clearly had something she wanted to discuss. And it was probably meant to be private. I’d once thought I’d share secrets with my sisters and no one else, the three of us against the world. Six years of being powerless had put a stop to that.

  “As you wish,” Aki
n said. “I’ll meet you in Room 4B.”

  Isabella shot Rose and I a final venomous look, then turned and walked away. I felt sweat prickling down my back. Something was clearly bothering Isabella, but what?

  Rose coughed. “What was that all about?”

  “I have no idea,” Akin said. He didn't sound too concerned. “I suppose I’ll find out tonight.”

  I nodded, then asked the question that had been bothering me. “Which one of you is the better spellcaster?”

  Akin looked pained. “She is,” he said. “I was never so interested in charms and hexes.”

  The bell rang before I could think of a response. “Come on,” I said, picking up my tray and carrying it to the hatch. “We’d better get moving.”

  Chapter Ten

  It was sheer luck, I decided as we hurried into the potions classroom, that Magistra Loanda was busy talking to Magister Von Rupert when we arrived. We were two minutes late, but she couldn't take official notice of it as long as the class hadn't actually begun. Or so I hoped, as we sat down at our desks. It was quite possible Magistra Loanda would give us detention - or lines - anyway.

  “I have reviewed your homework, save for those of you who were unavoidably detained,” Magistra Loanda said, as soon as the door was closed. I winced. We were among the unlucky students who would have to make up missed homework later. “Most of you successfully grasped the intersectionality of magical essence from the listed ingredients, although a number of you parroted back what you read in the textbooks rather than trying to put it into your own words. It is hard to tell how many of those students really understand the material.”

  She gave us a humourless smile. “Accordingly, we will be brewing Wakefulness Potion this afternoon,” she said. “Those of you who actually comprehended the material will have no trouble producing the potion within the next hour, at which point you will be dismissed early--” a gasp ran around the chamber “--and you can go make a start on your next homework assignment. I’ll need that time to work with those who didn't understand the assignment.”

  I tried to look around the room without making it too obvious. Alana looked confident, unsurprisingly. Potions weren't her forte, but Mum had forced her to practice time and time again until she knew the basics by heart. Bella, sitting behind her, didn't look anything like so happy. Her homework assignments were largely done at the very last minute, particularly when I wasn't around to help her. And Isabella looked pleased ...

  “You must be careful not to drink the potion until it has been tested,” Magistra Loanda warned us. “The brew is largely harmless, but a sip may well be enough to keep you awake for the next few days until it wears off ... at which point, you will collapse in a heap and sleep for a long period. Repeated doses can be very dangerous, as the potion builds up in your bloodstream. Too many students have tried to keep themselves awake to study, only to accidentally sleep through the exams.”

  I had to smile. That would be embarrassing.

  “Read the recipe carefully,” Magistra Loanda said. She waved a hand at the blackboard. A list of ingredients and instructions appeared in front of us. “Collect your ingredients, then get to work. Alone. There is to be no collaboration on this potion.”

  I winced. Wakefulness Potion wasn’t particularly powerful, as potions went, but it was finicky. There were no less than thirty steps, the last ten of which had to be done in quick succession. Mum had made me brew more complex potions, but Rose hadn't had a chance to practice. I’d expected to be brewing with her.

  Magistra Loanda tapped her desk. “Cat, come with me. The rest of you, get to work.”

  I blinked, then hastily stood. What did she want with me? Did she think I’d help Rose? Or that Rose would help me? Or ... I couldn't think of anything as I followed Magistra Loanda into a little backroom. It was a small potions lab, complete with a selection of wall-mounted cupboards, a table and a stool. An old book lay on the table, held open by a piece of cloth. I could smell the old pages right across the room.

  “Question,” Magistra Loanda said. “What are the second term potions designed to do?”

  I hesitated. “To teach students how to infuse a precise amount of magic into the brew.”

  “Your mother has taught you well,” Magistra Loanda said, without irony. “It is also designed to give me an understanding of your capabilities. I don’t dare introduce anyone to the third term potions until I know you can handle it. But in your case, you can't infuse the magic directly into the liquid.”

  “I can make stirrers to do it,” I said, quickly. “They work ...”

  “I know they work,” Magistra Loanda said. “But there’s no point in trying to gauge skills and powers you don’t have.”

  She pointed at the book. “The recipe here requires a very precise infusion of magic, young lady. No Potions Master or Mistress has been able to produce it for the last thousand years. I want you to try.”

  I swallowed. “Is it ... what is it?”

  “It’s supposed to provide a magic boost,” Magistra Loanda said. “But, as you can see, it isn't easy to brew.”

  I sat down on the stool and scanned the book. The recipe was written in Old Script, the letters so small that I had to strain to make them out. It actually looked relatively simple, save for the quantities of magic. I parsed it out slowly, silently grateful that Dad had forced me to learn Old Script from a very early age. The language was immensely complex and it was very hard for an adult to learn.

  “It’s not that complicated,” I mused. “Can't you find a way to compensate for the magic requirements?”

  “None of my experiments have worked,” Magistra Loanda said. She sounded just like Mum, when she’d made the same complaint. “It’s possible that one or more ingredients were left out of the recipe.”

  I winced. Mum had complained about that too, so often that I knew the spiel by heart. A skilled Potions Master might be able to deduce what was missing - either from the recipe or the instructions - but it was never particularly easy. Mum had once spent several months trying a succession of different ingredients to get a healing potion to work before finally stumbling on the answer. I doubted I’d ever be half as good as she was. My lack of sensitivity ensured I’d never develop the instincts to become a Potions Mistress.

  At least I can follow the recipe, I thought, as I reached for my notebook. And maybe I can figure out what’s missing.

  “Be careful, Cat,” Magistra Loanda said. “I don’t expect you to finish the brew today.”

  “I understand,” I said.

  I read the recipe again as she retreated. It was impossible to be sure, but I was fairly certain that something was missing. It just didn't look as though the end result would give anyone an energy boost. Unless ... I dug through my memory, trying to see how the different ingredients would intersect together. Perhaps the magic would transmute itself again and again ...

  Clever, I thought, as the pieces slowly fell into place. Mum would like this.

  I smiled to myself. The brew was odd, but it looked workable. It certainly explained why some aspects of the instructions appeared to make no sense. The ingredients would become a potion, I thought, but the transformation would be very slow. I’d never seen anything like that before, not outside horror stories I’d been told to remind me to be careful. And this was on a far subtler scale.

  Mum had taught me to copy out the recipe before I actually tried to brew, particularly if the instructions were in a different language. I opened my notebook and copied the lines one by one, translating as I went along. Thankfully, the original writer hadn't tried to charm the book to make it impossible to copy the words. Those spells rarely lasted long, but they could be dangerous. There was a book in Dad’s collection that blinded anyone who tried to open it without permission. I wasn’t sure if the curse could be undone.

  I went through the calculations twice, just to be sure I’d got them right, then gathered the ingredients and carefully adjusted the stirrers to ensure that the b
rew received the precise amount of magic. I’d need to make more soon enough, I thought, just in case Magistra Loanda wanted me to keep working with the impossible potions. They weren't hard to make, but they tended to be difficult to adjust more than a few times. I had a feeling the spellform didn't like being altered.

  “Let’s go,” I said, as I filled the cauldron with water. “This should work ...”

  The potion seemed to work, right up to the moment I added the last ingredient. There was a surge of blue light - I hastily threw myself backwards as the glow got brighter and brighter - and then a sizzling sound. I forced myself to wait, counting to three hundred under my breath. Normally, a cauldron would explode very quickly if it was going to explode at all, but I couldn't rely on it. If the magical surge that turned the brew into a potion was going to happen very slowly, the crawl towards an explosion might happen slowly too. But nothing happened. Slowly, ready to dive for cover, I stood and looked at the cauldron. A faint wisp of brown smoke was rising up, but nothing else.