Graduation Day (Schooled in Magic Book 14)

by Christopher Nuttall

  “Mountaintop,” Emily said. She might not have been the only student Aurelius had honored with private lessons. Nanette had certainly learned from him too. “I’ll look into that.”

  “See that you do,” Samra said. “We can’t have people abusing soul magic, Emily. There are already too many magicians who want to ban it completely.”

  Emily nodded. “They might be right.”

  Samra snorted. “See you next week,” she said. “And good luck.”

  Chapter Ten

  “YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE WHO COMES to see me,” Frieda said. Her voice was light, but Emily could see desperation in her eyes. “Am I that hated?”

  “It is Friday,” Emily said, neutrally. “All of your classmates are working hard to prepare for the exams. And staying out of Jacqui’s way.”

  Frieda giggled, nervously. “Is she that bad?”

  “Pretty much,” Emily said. She didn’t listen to rumors, but Caleb and Cabiria were keeping her abreast of the latest stories running around the school. It was almost a relief that she was no longer the main topic of conversation, yet Jacqui’s iron-fisted approach to school rules was not much of an improvement. “I was told she sent a girl to the Warden for being too long in the bathroom.”

  “Ouch,” Frieda said. “I think you were better at the job.”

  Emily shrugged. Perhaps she’d been kinder, but better? Jacqui wasn’t doing anything she wasn’t allowed to do. And yet ... she shook her head. It didn’t matter. She was no longer Head Girl and she had more important matters to worry about. Jacqui could survive or fall on her own. It wasn’t Emily’s problem any longer.

  “I’m glad to be rid of it,” she said. She hesitated, unsure what to say. An unbridgeable gulf lay between them now. Madame Kyla had warned her, in no uncertain terms, that she was not to bring up any topics that might trigger a panic attack. But what could they talk about that wouldn’t? “Did you have fun with your books?”

  Frieda nodded towards a small pile of cheap paperbacks on the table. “They weren’t bad,” she said. She sounded bored. “But most of them had the same basic plot: a noble wizard hero did great deeds, then got married and churned out the next generation of noble wizard heroes. The end.”

  “It could be worse,” Emily said. At least Frieda was looking a little better. “The covers might actually fit the books.”

  She picked up one of the books and examined the cover. A wizard with muscles on his muscles, accompanied by a young woman in a chainmail bikini. She hoped the cover didn’t fit the story, although she knew better than to be too hopeful. It would be a long time before the Nameless World produced its own Tolkien, Sanderson or Rowling. She’d read a couple of the books, but they’d been about as clichéd and unfunny as far too many fan-fictions she’d read when she was a child. And yet ... she shook her head. Most of the first books in a given field looked clichéd, when they were read after the newer books. The tropes weren’t fresh and new to their eyes.

  “I suppose,” Frieda said. She picked up a textbook. “I was wondering about this ...”

  Emily sat down on the bed and slowly talked Frieda though a set of equations, eying her warily. There was so much they needed to address, from the moment Daze had started to manipulate her to the memories that had surfaced when Emily had plunged into Frieda’s mind. Frieda had been abused ... the urge to just teleport to the Cairngorms and lay waste to the entire village was almost overpowering. The locals had known, of course. They’d known ... and they’d done nothing.

  But they couldn’t have done anything, Emily thought, sourly. Who would have cared?

  She sighed, inwardly, as Frieda yawned. They should talk about the memories, shouldn’t they? Lady Barb had forced Emily to look at her memories, back when they’d been in the Cairngorms. But that might drive Frieda into another panic attack - or worse. There were no mental health professionals in Whitehall, no one who might be able to help Frieda to come to terms with her memories. Emily knew she couldn’t do it. The mere thought of everything Frieda had gone through, as a child, left her torn between rage and utter helplessness. Magic couldn’t make everything right.

  “Get some rest,” she said, as Frieda lay back in her bed. “You’ll be up before you know it.”

  She watched Frieda close her eyes, then turned and headed for the door. Frieda looked better, at least, although she still seemed critically thin. Emily wanted to take her to the dining room and stuff food down her throat, but she knew it would be counterproductive. Madame Kyla was ensuring that Frieda ate and drank enough to recover her strength as quickly as possible, yet her mind was the real problem. It might be beyond repair.

  We will get through this, Emily thought, as she stepped through the door. Somehow ...

  “Emily,” a familiar voice said. “How are you?”

  Emily looked up. Lady Barb was standing by the outer door, wearing her silver armor and a long fur cloak that clashed oddly with her blonde hair. She looked older, somehow; she had a nasty scar on her cheek that she’d left to heal naturally, rather than using magic to heal or hide it. Emily felt a jolt of pure relief, then ran forward to give Lady Barb a hug. The older woman hugged her back, tightly.

  “It’s good to see you again,” she said, as she wrapped her arms around Lady Barb. She’d long since come to think of Lady Barb as her real mother. “Did you get my letter?”

  “Eventually,” Lady Barb said. “I had to get back to the base camp first.”

  She nodded to the door. “We need to go chat.”

  Emily hesitated. Where should they go? Her bedroom? Or a disused classroom? Or ... she sighed and led the way out of the room. They could use a classroom, at least at first. She didn’t really want to take Lady Barb to her bedroom. It would simply underline the fact that she’d been unceremoniously demoted. But then, Lady Barb already knew. She’d received the letter.

  “I’m glad you got my letter,” she said, once they were in an empty classroom. “Too much has happened.”

  “So I hear,” Lady Barb said. She sat down on a chair and motioned for Emily to take the seat facing her. “I’ve also heard a great many rumors. What happened?”

  Emily took a breath, then outlined the whole story. Lady Barb listened, occasionally asking for clarification and additional details. Her face grew more and more expressionless as Emily spoke, eventually settling into an emotionless mask by the time Emily finished. Emily tried hard to keep her face expressionless too, hoping - against all she knew - that Lady Barb knew a way to cut through the Gordian Knot. But she doubted there was an easy solution.

  “Bad news first,” Lady Barb said. “I’ve been tapped to serve as one of the Guardians of the inquest. That means I cannot serve as Frieda’s Defender.”

  “... Fuck,” Emily said. Her face fell in dismay. “How? Why?”

  “The process is supposed to be random,” Lady Barb said. “Do you believe it?”

  “No.” Emily fought down a surge of despair. Fulvia knew Lady Barb was her mentor, the closest thing she had to a mother. She’d taken steps to ensure Lady Barb couldn’t help, all in the guise of protecting the inquest. “How did she do it?”

  “She called in a favor, I imagine,” Lady Barb said. “I am on the list of potential operatives, if something happens. She may even have classed it as a favor to me. If I serve as a Guardian, I don’t have to choose to defend Frieda or not.”

  Emily looked down at her hands. “Shit.”

  “Caleb’s idea is a good one,” Lady Barb said. Emily looked up. Lady Barb’s lips twitched. “It’s actually a better one, in so many ways. Sienna will make a far more formidable Defender than myself.”

  “If she agrees to serve,” Emily muttered.

  “She owes you,” Lady Barb said. She squeezed Emily’s shoulder. “It’s time to call in that favor.”

  And Caleb was right about the other advantages, Emily thought. Fulvia won’t be expecting Sienna to speak in Frieda’s defense. She won’t think to take any precautions against it.


  “I’ll write to her tonight,” Emily said. “Or I can ask Caleb ...”

  “Do it yourself,” Lady Barb said. “Make it very clear you’re calling in the favor she owes you.”

  “I don’t want to force her to do anything,” Emily said.

  Lady Barb gave her a sharp look. “You don’t have a choice. You don’t want to leave a wild card like Sienna on the sidelines. And it will make things easier for her, if she’s challenged. Everyone will understand her repaying a favor.”

  Emily nodded, slowly. On one hand, Sienna would probably leap at the chance to repay the favor - and do it in a manner that would protect her from later repercussions. And on the other, it would keep Fulvia from summoning her - or Marian - as a witness, dragging her family though the mud. Sienna would probably be delighted when she worked her way through the implications. Serving as Frieda’s Defender would close off a great many avenues of attack.

  “Very good,” Lady Barb said. “Now tell me ... how do you plan to prove that Frieda was manipulated?”

  “Samra read my mind,” Emily said. “She knows what I saw.”

  “But that isn’t absolute proof,” Lady Barb said. “You need to find something more.”

  Emily looked down at her palm, trying to think. The bracelet was useless now, if Gordian was to be believed. Emily didn’t think he’d lie about that, although she would try and make sure that someone else took a look at it. But beyond that ...

  “Frieda made the bracelet,” she said, slowly. “And she would have had to work the details out for herself ... wouldn’t she?”

  “True,” Lady Barb agreed. “And someone would have had to tamper with the process, somehow.”

  Emily nodded, feeling a flicker of hope. Frieda wouldn’t have missed someone fiddling with her notes, would she? No, someone - Daze - would have had to trick her into adding a secondary purpose to her spellwork. And that meant her original notes might just still exist, if they were lucky. Daze would have wanted to destroy them, Emily was sure, but he might not have been able to get his hands on them. He certainly hadn’t had Frieda under his complete control until she’d fled the school.

  “Her notes,” she said. “We need to find them.”

  She paused. “And we also need to know where Daze stayed while Frieda was on work experience.”

  “That too,” Lady Barb agreed. “You really need to find a way to link Daze to Fulvia.”

  “Which isn’t going to be easy,” Emily said. “I know I saw him in Melissa’s memories, but ... that doesn’t prove anything, does it?”

  “No.”

  Emily thought for a long moment. “Frieda was in Celeste,” she said, slowly. “Can we go there? I mean, soon?”

  “Perhaps,” Lady Barb said. “Get the details from Frieda’s supervisor first, just so we know where to go.”

  “Understood,” Emily said. Frieda had spent her work experience with an alchemist, then a charms master. She hoped - prayed - that the latter hadn’t been Daze in disguise. If he had been, there would be no hope of collecting any evidence. But then ... Frieda had made friends in the city, hadn’t she? Hopefully, they could track them down. “Tomorrow is Saturday. Can we go?”

  “Once we have a plan,” Lady Barb said. “And possibly a warrant from the White Council.”

  Emily felt her heart sink. “How long will it take to get one of those?”

  “Not long,” Lady Barb said. “A Defender has authority - technically speaking - to gather evidence to exonerate her client. If Sienna takes up the role, and you need to write to her now, you can get her to sign a warrant. Gordian will have to countersign it, but I don’t think he’ll hesitate as long as you have a convincing case.”

  “He’s being ... odd,” Emily said. “Whose side is he on?”

  “He has a reputation for being neutral,” Lady Barb said. “I believe that was a point in his favor during the debates.”

  “And he dislikes me,” Emily said.

  “He won’t let that get in the way of doing his job,” Lady Barb said, firmly. “He needs to make sure the entire inquest is completely fair and above board. Frieda must be found guilty before Fulvia is allowed to take her. There must be no room, later, for someone to question his actions or judgement.”

  “Hah,” Emily muttered. “Who cares about Frieda, anyway?”

  Lady Barb snorted. “Frieda isn’t very important to the magical families, no,” she said. “But proper procedure is very important to them. Gordian must be able to say, afterwards, that all the evidence was assessed - that Frieda’s guilt was proven - before the Ashworths took her from the school. No one will thank him for calling Whitehall’s neutrality into question.”

  She sighed. “This case is harder than normal, I will admit,” she added. “If Frieda acted of her own free will, no one would question either an expulsion or simply handing her over to the Ashworths. But if she was manipulated ... it could turn into a nightmare. Gordian will, I suspect, call for an outside set of jurors. It will allow him to duck responsibility.”

  “Fulvia wants me,” Emily said, quietly. “That sounds right, doesn’t it?”

  “Probably,” Lady Barb agreed. “Although ... don’t be too sure. Fulvia might well be angry at the way Celadon was treated.”

  Emily shook her head. Fulvia had been quite willing to force Melissa to marry Gaius, even though Melissa had been violently opposed to the match. If she was prepared to go that far to keep her grip on the family - Emily saw no difference between a forced marriage and outright rape - there was no reason to believe she cared about Celadon. He was from a cadet branch, after all. And yet ... he was clever, and showed a great deal of promise, and ... and Fulvia probably had to stick up for him. Her enemies - and her family’s enemies - would see it as a sign of weakness if she did anything else.

  “Maybe,” she said. “But is there any way to bargain with the rest of her family?”

  “I don’t know,” Lady Barb said. “And I don’t know who you could ask, either.”

  Zed might know, Emily thought. I’ll ask him when he replies to my first letter.

  Lady Barb rose. “It’s good to see you again, Emily, even if it is in such trying circumstances. I believe a room has been prepared for me, so I’ll go to it now and see you at dinnertime.”

  Emily blinked. “You won’t be sharing with the sergeant?”

  There was a long pause. “Our relationship is a little rocky right now,” Lady Barb said, in tones that warned Emily not to ask any more questions. “We will overcome them, or part on good terms.”

  “Oh,” Emily said. She wanted to ask questions. What had happened? And why? Was it her fault? Lady Barb and Sergeant Miles had been good for each other. Part of her had hoped they’d get married. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s nothing you need to worry about, not now,” Lady Barb said. “Worry more about your friend’s life.”

  Emily nodded, then rose to her feet and gave the older woman another hug. “I hope it works out for you two,” she said. “I’ll go write that letter now.”

  “We’ll go down to your house tomorrow or Sunday, whatever else happens,” Lady Barb said, firmly. She met Emily’s eyes, daring her to disagree. “I want to review your defenses.”

  “Understood,” Emily said. Lady Barb would castigate her for her failures, she knew, but she probably deserved it. And besides, she needed to figure out how Frieda had managed to get into her private collection of books. “If you can go see Frieda, please do. She needs more visitors.”

  “Particularly ones who can be trusted not to say anything wrong,” Lady Barb said. “It won’t be easy for her, you know. This sort of damage leaves scars for years.”

  “I know,” Emily said. “But I’ll be there for her.”

  She hugged Lady Barb one final time, then hurried back to the dorms. The doors were open and a handful of strangers - older men and women - were moving their trunks into their bedrooms, watched by a grim-faced Madame Rosalinda. Emily didn’t blame the older woman for being a
nnoyed. The Sixth Year dorms were meant to be for Sixth Years, and Sixth Years alone. Having the newcomers there would upset all of her arrangements.

  And will probably wind up being blamed on me, Emily thought. She walked past a pair of combat sorcerers, both of whom ignored her as they levitated trunks down the corridor. They probably didn’t know who she was. Jacqui will not be pleased either.

  Her lips twitched as she contemplated, just for a moment, the absurdity of Jacqui trying to give detentions to combat sorcerers. It would probably get her in trouble, although Gordian would have to decide between backing up his Head Girl or telling her off for exceeding her authority. Emily would like to be a fly on the wall for that discussion, if it ever happened ... she stepped into her room and closed the door, slamming the wards into place. The noise from down the corridor cut off abruptly.

  Damn it, she thought, as she sat on the bed. She hadn’t anticipated Fulvia preventing Lady Barb from serving as Frieda’s Defender. It was a clever move, one she should have anticipated. And yet, what could she have done? Nothing ...

  She pushed the thought aside as she reached for her writing pad. She’d have to write the letter several times, just to be sure she hit the right notes. She needed Sienna before Fulvia called her as a witness - or worse. And if Caleb and Lady Barb were right, Sienna was the best possible choice for Defender.

  And if they’re wrong, Emily told herself, it might be time for Plan B.

  But, no matter how hard she considered it, she had no idea what Plan B might be.

  Chapter Eleven

  CALEB, EMILY DECIDED THE FOLLOWING MORNING, must have given his mother some kind of advance warning. It was the only explanation Emily could imagine for Sienna’s arrival, just after breakfast, less than a day after she’d sent the letter. But then, Sienna didn’t have much to do in Beneficence, now that her children were all at school. Perhaps she’d just grabbed an overnight bag and teleported to Whitehall.

  “An interesting case,” Sienna said, once Emily had run through the entire story for the umpteenth time. She fixed Emily with a gimlet stare. “And one that is very hard to prove.”