The Zero Equation (The Zero Enigma Book 3)

by Christopher Nuttall

  I puzzled it over for a long moment, then put the thought aside. I’d never know. Instead, I considered ways to make the concept real. It was simple, devilishly simple. Once you knew how the magic field actually worked, it was very easy to find a way to drain it. Pushing it aside was harder ... I thought I could see a way to do it, theoretically, but where would I get the power? Maybe it could be pushed back for a handful of seconds. It would be more than long enough to do immense damage, in the right place. Magus Court would collapse immediately if the magic went away.

  My fingertips twitched. I could forge the Object of Power. I could ... I was tempted, very tempted. What would the world be like without magic? Would it be better or worse? And would everyone who had mocked me for being born without magic enjoy living in a world where they were powerless? I understood, all too well, the forces that had driven Tyros and his friends. Why not bring the powerful down?

  And yet ... I shuddered. Magic was everywhere. We lit fires with magic, we healed the sick with magic ... we even fought wars with magic. The world would be a very different place without magic, a worse place. I didn't want to take the risk of accidentally draining the entire field ...

  It should be impossible, I thought, as I started to put the pieces together. I wouldn't complete the work, of course, not until I found a safe place to experiment. If I alter the spellform just slightly.

  The Object of Power took shape under my fingers. It really wasn't very complex at all, nothing more than a piece of clockwork mated with two revolving discs. And yet, I could sense the potential, hanging in the air like a promise of doom. I wanted to tear the device apart, to rip the connections away instead of completing them, but I didn't. It was all I could do to keep from completing the Object of Power and triggering the spellform. Who knew what would happen then?

  I forced myself to take a step back, then picked up the pieces and put them into the box. No one would know what they were and, if they figured it out, no one but me would be able to complete the work. I could take it to the family estate in the summer, if Dad agreed to let me go, and experiment there. Or ...

  Rose cleared her throat as the bell rang. “Dinner,” she said. She put her work to one side, then started to tidy up her workbench. “Shall we go?”

  “We’ll take the box upstairs first,” I said. “And then we can go eat.”

  Sweat was prickling down my back. I was shaking and I wasn't even sure why. I’d crossed a line. I didn't want to admit it, even to myself, but I’d crossed a line. I wanted to use the Object of Power, despite knowing the dangers. And even under controlled circumstances ... I shook my head, dismissing the thought. I wasn't going to be so foolish ...

  ... And yet, that night, the nightmares grew worse.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “You really need to lay off the cheese,” Sandy said, as she poked her head through my drapes the following morning. “I could hear you screaming despite the muffling wards.”

  I cringed, fighting down the urge to hide under the sheets. Sandy’s bed was at the end of the dorm, right next to the door. If she’d heard me, there was at least a chance that everyone else had heard me. My dormmates should have cast muffling spells to make sure they slept in peace, but ... these days, everyone slept uncomfortably, expecting to be hexed the moment they closed their eyes. I’d heard that some of the dorms had practically collapsed into civil war.

  “I’m sorry,” I managed. My throat was dry. “I ... I guess I didn't sleep well.”

  Sandy passed me a glass of water. “I’d say you had something on your conscience,” she said, darkly. “Are you responsible for the frog someone animated to demand a kiss from all the girls?”

  I shook my head, hastily. “Do you think I could do that?”

  “No one knows what you can and cannot do,” Sandy said. “Magistra Solana was blaming it on the fifth-year boys, but I do wonder ...”

  “It was a girl,” I said, without thinking. “Not a boy.”

  Sandy cocked her eyebrow. “How so?”

  I mentally kicked myself. It wasn't tattling, not really, but ... I’d said too much and now she thought I knew something, instead of making an educated guess. If she decided to report me to Magistra Solana ... it wouldn't be tattling if she did it.

  “We’d blame the boys for a frog that demanded kisses from the girls,” I told her. “And that suggests that it was actually a girl who cast the spell. She wouldn't be suspected automatically.”

  “Huh.” Sandy didn’t sound pleased. “Get dressed and get down to breakfast. I’ve already sent your friend down.”

  I glanced at the clock, then hastily swung my legs over the side of the bed. There was only twenty minutes to go before breakfast came to an end and if I didn't get down in time ... I dressed rapidly, silently thanking the ancients that I’d had a shower the previous evening. I didn't think I had time to shower now.

  The corridors felt uneasy as I hurried downstairs, carefully evading the group of upperclassmen who were scrubbing one of the floors. They looked like drowning mice, their overalls so wet with soapy water that they were clinging to their skins. I made sure not to catch their eyes, even though their punishment books had been taken away. They had long memories. And they’d certainly remember me.

  I opened the door to the dining room and looked around. Rose was sitting by herself, isolated from the gangs infesting the rest of the room. Magister Grayson was marching up and down the chamber, looking murderous. I was relieved to see him. The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife, but I doubted anyone would risk starting a fight with Magister Grayson patrolling the room. He was well known for giving out truly horrendous detentions.

  Rose looked relieved to see me as I collected a tray and sat down next to her. “Akin was here earlier,” she said, “but Isabella was bending his ear about something. She barely let him eat anything before she dragged him out of the room.”

  I blinked. “Why?”

  “I have no idea,” Rose said. “Unless she doesn't want him to spend any time with us.”

  “Probably,” I muttered. Isabella had disapproved of Akin and I being friends right from the start. I couldn't help thinking that that was a little short-sighted. Surely, it would be better to let him befriend me and then argue that our friendship disqualified him as a potential patriarch. “Why does he let her push him around?”

  “I don’t think he wants to fight with her in public,” Rose said. “Do you fight with your sisters in front of everyone?”

  I shook my head, conceding the point. The family was meant to be united. Or, at least, pretend to be united. Akin and Isabella probably had the same problem. They might want to fight like cats and dogs, but they weren't allowed to do it where someone could see them. It would reflect badly on their father.

  “I received this,” Rose said, holding out a scroll. “Is it good news?”

  I spooned some porridge into my mouth, then took the scroll and opened it. There wasn't much to it, really. House Bolingbroke had accepted Rose’s decision without demur. I made a mental note to discuss it with my father, anyway. It might be a good sign that they hadn’t tried to raise the offer ... or it might be a very bad sign. Perhaps they’d decided, after they’d sent the offer, that they’d offered too much ... I passed it back to her as I swallowed my breakfast. It could have been worse.

  “They’ve accepted your decision,” I told her. “And they’re not saying anything about keeping channels open.”

  Rose frowned. “Is that good or bad?”

  “Both,” I said. The bell rang. “Come on. We’d better get to class.”

  The corridors seemed noisier as we made our way down to the potions classroom. I saw a pair of teachers patrolling, although it didn’t seem likely that they had a chance of spotting a stealthily-cast hex. The wards were definitely breaking down, no matter what we did. I’d actually thought about suggesting a rebuild of the entire network from scratch, but that would require me to either learn how to produce ne
w wardstones or design something to take their place. Jude’s was too large and complex to be protected by standard wards.

  We took our seats at the front of the classroom, silently relieved to have made it through the corridors without incident, and waited for the rest of the class to arrive. Isabella was five minutes late, much to Magistra Loanda’s annoyance. She made Isabella stand in the corner as if she was a five-year-old while she launched into a complicated lecture that even I found difficult to follow. I could see the back of Isabella’s neck turning red as she stood there, helplessly. It was hard not to laugh at her.

  “And so we come to the mocks,” Magistra Loanda said, finally. She gave us all a nasty stare, then cast a stinging hex at Isabella. “Take your seat and see me after the class.”

  Isabella, her face red, sat down. Magistra Loanda studied her for a long moment, then turned back to the blackboard.

  “There are three aspects to the mock exams,” Magistra Loanda said. “The first tests your theoretical knowledge, covering everything you are supposed to have learnt in this class for the past year. I suggest, if you haven't bothered to crack open a textbook, that you start catching up now. I’ve given you the basics in lectures, and you will be hearing more as we go along, but you are required to demonstrate understanding in your exams.”

  She paused to allow that to sink in. “The second requires you to brew a handful of potions,” she continued. “You’ll have instructions, of course, but other than that you’ll be on your own. Failure to brew at least three out of five potions will look very bad. You and I will be working very closely on bringing you up to spec before the real exams.”

  I winced. I liked Magistra Loanda, but ... I didn't want to have her looming over me while I practiced brewing potion after potion. And Mum’s reputation was at stake. It would be worse for Alana and Bella, I thought, but it would be no bed of roses for me either.

  “Third,” Magistra Loanda said. “You will be given a puzzle to solve. The exam will pose a problem for you, which you have to solve by devising and brewing a potion. You will have all the ingredients you could reasonably want, but you’ll have to come up with everything else yourself. I will not, of course, tell you what you’ll be trying to solve in advance. You will enter the exam hall blind.

  “That said, I suggest you look at the old exam books, which are stored in the library. You’ll get some idea of what to do.”

  Rose nudged me. “Isn’t that a little advanced?”

  Magistra Loanda overheard her. “You are expected to have developed certain skills by now, Rose,” she said. “And an instinctive talent for potions will serve you well in the future.”

  I nodded. Mum had talked about developing her own instincts as she worked towards her mastery. I'd thrilled to her tales of solving problems, even if most of them had seemed a little mundane in hindsight. But ... I’d wanted to be like her, once. Now ... I was solving very different problems.

  And causing new ones, I thought. The Object of Power - I’d started to think of it as the Whirlpool - was hidden under Rose’s bed. It was in pieces, yet ... I wanted to put it together and use it. How many more problems will I cause?

  “Open your desks,” Magistra Loanda ordered. “Inside, you will find a puzzle. I expect you to devise a recipe to solve it by the end of the period.”

  I opened my desk. It was empty. Magistra Loanda glanced in my direction, then motioned for me to wait. My heart sank as I watched Rose pull a slip of paper out of her desk. There was no way I’d be able to complete that part of the exam. My theory was very good - and it was quite possible I’d be able to devise a recipe - but my brewing instincts were almost non-existent. And, without stirrers, I didn't know if I’d be able to complete the remainder of the exam either.

  “No talking,” Magistra Loanda said. She walked past my desk, indicating that I should follow her. “You are to solve this problem on your own. Begin.”

  I was grimly aware of Alana’s eyes boring into my back as I stood and walked after Magistra Loanda, into the little back room. She’d be alright, I thought. She might not have paid as much attention in potions class than she should have done - or listened to Mum, when she was handing out useful advice - but she had the instincts. Rose, on the other hand, would have real problems. She’d only been learning potions for six months.

  “I’ve got another potion I want you to try,” Magistra Loanda said. “Or do you want to try the other potion one final time?”

  I took a breath. “I’ll take one last shot at it,” I said. “I ... it should work.”

  Magistra Loanda nodded, then turned and walked out of the room. I sat down for a long moment, focusing my thoughts, then stood and collected the ingredients. I’d done it before, but this time I took extra care. If I was right about how the surges of magic actually worked, I’d have only a few seconds to get it right. It made me wonder how the ancients had managed it.

  They knew what they were doing, I told myself, as I lit the fire and waited for the water to boil. In hindsight, it was clear why so many potions to enhance a magician’s powers had failed. Everyone had assumed that the power was inherent, rather than drawn from an external source. And now I know too.

  Gritting my teeth, I put the ingredients into the boiling water and started to work, counting the seconds until I needed to insert the first stirrer. The water turned green rapidly, but there was no surge of magic ... there shouldn't be a surge just yet, I told myself firmly. It needed to wait a little bit longer. My count reached three hundred, and I inserted the first stirrer. The water bubbled violently, then turned brown. I hastily inserted the second and third stirrers, removing the first two seconds later. The potion flashed with light - for a moment, I thought it was going to explode - and then settled down. I yanked out the remaining stirrers, then reached for a wooden spoon and held it above the liquid. Fifty seconds after the last surge of magic, I dipped the spoon into the potion and stirred. The potion changed colour ...

  I stared. It was ... strange, shimmering like mother-of-pearl. I’d never seen anything like it, save for a handful of the most complex brews Mum had made, the ones she’d never allowed us to do more than watch while she brewed them. And yet ... I took a breath and smelled lilies. I was tempted, very tempted, to try to drink it. But I had a feeling it wouldn't have any effect on me.

  “You can try if you like,” Magistra Loanda said.

  I jumped. She was standing by the door, arms crossed over her chest. I glanced at the clock and realised that, somehow, it was already lunchtime. I’d been so lost in my work that I hadn't realised that the bell had rung. I hoped Rose had waited for me. I didn't want to go to lunch alone.

  “I think it wouldn't work for me,” I said. Mum and Dad had fed me potions that were supposed to boost magic, but they hadn't done anything for me. I rather suspected there was no point in trying to enhance a link to the magic field that wasn't actually there. “But ...”

  “It probably wouldn't do you any harm, either,” Magistra Loanda said. She sounded almost ... understanding. “Do you want to try?”

  I shook my head. The potion probably wouldn't be effective. And yet, it would also infuse magic into my body, magic that would take hours - perhaps days - to diffuse back into the surrounding field. I wouldn't be able to forge until it was gone. I’d need to use the Whirlpool if I wanted to forge sooner, except ... I wouldn't be able to put it together while my skin was glowing with magic.

  “You seem to have made it work,” Magistra Loanda said. “My congratulations.”

  “Thank you,” I said, suddenly very tired. “What are you going to do with it?”

  “Test it, then determine if it can be reproduced by someone else,” Magistra Loanda said, seriously. “There are quite a few ancient potions that aren’t worth replicating because we’ve moved ahead of them.”

  This isn't one of them, I thought. It was a real enhancement potion, if the books were to be believed. A weak magician who took it would have a power boost ... for a while.
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  “I don't like some of the other issues,” Magistra Loanda added. She was staring at the glowing liquid, her eyes captivated. “There’s a very good chance that the potion is addictive - quickly addictive, if someone took more than a very tiny dose. It’s certainly got the right markers.”

  “Ouch,” I said. “And there’s only one source.”

  “For the moment,” Magistra Loanda agreed. “You may wind up being bound to secrecy.”

  I nodded. Dad would certainly insist I kept my mouth shut, if I was the only one who could brew a dangerously addictive potion. And I could name plenty of magicians who’d cut off their right arms or disown their families for a working enhancement potion. Someone who wanted Rose’s natural talent for himself ...

  “I won’t tell anyone,” I said. “But ... what can we do with it?”