At least he thinks it was an accident, Emily thought. She wasn’t sure what would have happened if they thought she’d done it deliberately, but she doubted it would have been pleasant. Professor Thande might have killed me on the spot.
She pushed the thought to one side. Carelessness wasn’t much better than deliberate malice, not in alchemy. It wouldn’t be any consolation to her victims that she hadn’t meant to hurt them ...
“I made a mistake,” she said, dully. Clearly, Professor Thande had messaged Gordian. “It changed the potion beyond repair.”
“Indeed.” Gordian looked uncomfortable. “You are aware, are you not, that your marks have been dropping?”
He picked up a sheet of parchment and held it out. “You take five classes. Over the last two weeks, your marks have fallen sharply. Two of your tutors lodged formal reprimands in your permanent record.”
And probably a third, as soon as Professor Thande has the time to write one, Emily thought, bitterly. A formal reprimand wouldn’t be that much of a problem, unless she needed to appeal her exam results or apply to retake the year. Three reprimands would be more than enough to disqualify me.
“This is a serious problem,” Gordian said. “Do you have any explanation for it?”
Emily had to fight down a laugh. “My friend has been badly injured - and faces the death penalty, if the inquest goes against her,” she said. “Of course I’m distracted.”
Gordian nodded, solemnly. “On a personal level, I understand your problem. And I have done everything in my power to ensure a reasonably fair inquest. But on a professional level, I must advise you to work on improving your marks.”
“Thank you,” Emily said, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “How should I seek to improve my marks?”
Gordian gave her a sharp look. “Work harder - and carefully. I am aware that you are distracted by other matters, but ... you will not be allowed to even sit the exams if your marks fall too low.”
Emily felt a hot flash of anger. “I don’t need to take the exams,” she snapped, before she could stop herself. “I could leave now.”
“Really?” Gordian said. He sounded dispassionate, as if he didn’t really care about her answer. But Lady Barb had cautioned her that the ones who seemed the least interested were often the ones who were most interested. “How do you figure that?”
“Void gave me an unconditional offer of an apprenticeship,” Emily said. She kicked herself, mentally. She should not have let that slip. “He said I could go to him whenever I wanted.”
“If you have that in writing, you might want to leave your classes now and go to him after the inquest is over,” Gordian said. “Why wait to get your exam results?”
“Because I want to know how well I’ve done,” Emily said.
Gordian half-smiled. “Compared to everything else you’ve done, passing or failing your exams hardly matters.”
Emily nodded, slowly. Gordian had a point. She had done more than enough to guarantee a place for herself, anywhere on the Nameless World. King Randor wouldn’t welcome her back to Cockatrice, but she had money and power. And a house, come to think of it. She didn’t really need the apprenticeship either. It was just something she wanted to do.
And yet, she didn’t want to leave Whitehall. The school had been her first real home. It still felt like home, despite everything. Part of her would be happy to join the teaching staff, after the exams, and just stay in the building. But she knew that wasn’t going to happen. Whitehall’s staff needed real experience before they were allowed to teach ...
But I do have experience, she protested, silently. I killed three necromancers.
She sighed, pushing the thought out of her head. It wasn’t the right sort of experience, not for teaching ... not at Whitehall, at least. She’d have to understand her chosen subject thoroughly, then have at least five years of practical experience before anyone would even consider hiring her to teach. And Gordian probably wanted to be rid of her. She might have to wait for him to retire - or find a way to depose him - before she applied for a teaching position.
Gordian cleared his throat. She hastily snapped her attention back to him.
“I don’t know, sir,” she said. “I’d like to pass my exams.”
“I understand that this hasn’t been an easy year for you,” Gordian said. “But you do have to concentrate on your studies if you want to sit the exams. I believe that your chosen Defender will do an excellent job, when the inquest is held.”
Emily scowled. “So I shouldn’t worry about it?”
“I don’t blame you for worrying,” Gordian told her. “But I cannot tolerate you being careless in class.”
He leaned forward. “Professor Thande is not pleased with you. However, I will ensure that he permits you to continue your studies ... unless you manage to melt another cauldron. At that point, I will be unable to prevent him from refusing to accept you as a student. My power in such matters is limited.”
But you don’t know if he wants to kick me out or not, Emily thought. It hadn’t been that long since the incident. Professor Thande might have notified Gordian of the meltdown, but he hadn’t had time to start the paperwork to flunk her. The class should still be in session, unless Professor Thande had dismissed everyone else after ordering her out. What are you playing at?
“I understand,” she said, instead. She’d think about what he was doing later, when she had more time. Right now, she just wanted to go back to her bedroom and lie down. She could cook herself something in the communal kitchen rather than face everyone else at lunch. No doubt the entire school knew by now. “And thank you.”
“Professor Thande may assign additional punishment,” Gordian said. “Under the circumstances, I will ask him to defer anything particularly ... severe ... until after the inquest is over. You will not have time to serve detention as well as everything else over the next few weeks.”
Emily rubbed her forehead, torn between gratitude and suspicion. “Sir ... who’s side are you on?”
Gordian gave her a long, considering look. “I’m on Whitehall’s side. My duty is to ensure a safe place for students to learn, to complete their studies with a minimum of danger. I will do everything in my power to ensure that the inquest is handled properly, with all sides of the story heard and cross-examined before a final judgement is made. Does that answer your question?”
And if I surrendered the wards to you, Emily thought, would you rule in our favor?
She sighed. It was too late. Gordian had worked hard to ensure a reasonably fair inquest, although Sienna had made it clear both sides would be working hard to influence the jurors. And even if he was in a position to rule in Emily’s favor, the outside world would question it. He couldn’t tell them about the wards.
“Thank you,” she said.
“I also advise you to apologize to Professor Thande,” Gordian said. He nodded at the door. “You may go.”
“I will,” Emily said.
She rose and walked out of the room. Madame Griselda didn’t look up as she passed, her pen moving rapidly over a piece of parchment. Caleb was waiting outside the second door, his eyes worried. Emily blinked in surprise, then threw her arms around him. She needed a hug.
“Professor Thande wasn’t happy,” he said. “Are you alright?”
“Not really,” Emily said. She held him tightly, feeling his body pressing against hers, then released him. “Did he let you out early?”
“Threw us all out, after a sharp lecture,” Caleb said. His voice was grim. “What did you do?”
Emily winced. Everyone was going to be mad at her. They’d lost a day of work ...
“I’m not sure,” she said. She had no doubt Professor Thande would tell her what she’d done wrong, in great and tedious detail. And then she’d probably be in detention for so long that her children would still be serving it. “It didn’t happen to anyone else, did it?”
“No,” Caleb said. He shot her a sidelong look. �
�Do you want to go for lunch?”
“I’d sooner eat in the dorms,” Emily said. “Come with me?”
“It would probably be better to reassure everyone that you haven’t been brutally executed,” Caleb said, dryly. “By now, the rumors are everywhere.”
“Of course they are,” Emily said. “I don’t ...”
“Although it is odd,” Caleb said. His voice was suddenly pensive. “You remember the other set of rumors? The ones about you?”
Emily stopped and turned to face him. “Of course. Why ...?”
“They’ve stopped,” Caleb said. “No more whispered conversations, no more smuggled pamphlets, no more badly-spelled graffiti in the toilets. It’s just ... stopped.”
“Stopped,” Emily repeated. She’d done her best to ignore it. It had seemed the best response. Besides, she had too many other things to worry about. “Completely?”
“As if someone had cancelled the spell,” Caleb said. “I don’t think there are that many pamphlets being passed around in Dragon’s Den, let alone up here.”
“As if whoever was behind it had gotten what she wanted,” Emily mused. Fulvia? She’d certainly benefit from discrediting Emily. But she’d also have an incentive to keep going, linking Emily and Frieda together in the public mind. Why would she stop? “And you don’t have any idea who started it?”
“A student, obviously,” Caleb said. “But beyond that ... I don’t know.”
Emily nodded, slowly. A tutor could have distributed the pamphlets in school, she supposed, but it would have cost them their post if they were caught. Gordian would not be able to turn a blind eye, even if he wanted to. No, it had to be a student. And probably an older one ...
“Keep listening,” she said, slowly. There was no time to play detective. “And thank you.”
Caleb reached out and squeezed her hand. “You’re welcome,” he said. His touch was so warm that she almost regretted it when he let go. “Do you want me to cook lunch?”
Emily smiled. “I think I’ll go to the dining hall instead,” she said. He was right. She should show herself, if only to make it clear that she hadn’t been expelled. “Coming?”
Chapter Nineteen
PROFESSOR THANDE HAD NOT BEEN HAPPY, Emily reflected as she left his office. He’d been annoyed about the potions accident, but furious at Gordian’s intervention. The lecture he’d given Emily, without raising his voice, had been so sharp that she felt she would have sooner been thrashed to within an inch of her life. Her ears were ringing by the time he finally dismissed her with a promise of an endless series of detentions in the very near future. She didn’t blame him for being angry, but ...
It could have been worse, she told herself. Gordian had considerable authority, but enough to force Professor Thande to keep her on? The other tutors might revolt against the grandmaster if he pushed too hard. And it wasn’t as if Professor Thande could just quit. I could have been flunked and told never to even think about returning.
She rubbed her ear as she made her way to the stairs. Professor Thande hadn’t been clear on precisely what she’d done wrong - she guessed he hadn’t had time to analyze the sample he’d taken - but he’d been scathing. She had worked with dangerous materials, he’d snapped, and she’d come far too close to doing serious injury to the entire class. And if she’d been a little less lucky, she would be facing an inquest of her own.
The corridors felt quiet, much to her relief. Jacqui’s reign of terror had clearly had some effect, even though Emily had never seen anything wrong with students running through the corridor after classes. And besides, the try-outs for Ken were taking place. Nearly every student in the first four years would be going, hoping to be chosen. Some of the firsties even wanted to be the youngest player in history. It wasn’t likely to happen, Emily thought, but she didn’t begrudge them the chance to try. They’d have less time to play games in their later years.
She rounded the corner and stopped, dead. A young girl stood in front of Jacqui’s office, her hands stuck to the door. She turned to look at Emily, her face shifting rapidly between relief and terror. Emily recognized her in the same moment. Adana ...
“Ah,” Adana said. “Perhaps ... a little help?”
Emily raised her eyebrows. She’d thought that someone had stuck Adana there for a joke, but Adana had clearly been trying to break into the office when the wards had snapped out and caught her. And the wards were powerful enough to keep her trapped, despite her best attempts to free herself. Emily looked up and down the corridor as she walked forward, hastily considering the possibilities. Adana probably didn’t have very long before Jacqui returned and caught her. Emily wouldn’t have given two rusty coins for Adana’s chances then.
“Tell me,” she said. “What were you trying to do?”
Adana hesitated, clearly unsure. Emily could practically see her trying to decide if she should tell a lie - or not - before she opened her mouth. It wasn’t an easy choice. Emily might dislike Jacqui, but Emily was also supposed to uphold Jacqui’s authority. No one would bat an eyelash if Emily walked away and left Adana to Jacqui’s tender mercies.
“I wanted to put a stink-spell in her office,” Adana said, finally. “But I underestimated her wards.”
“Indeed,” Emily said. She assessed the wards carefully. She’d thought she’d been careful when she’d warded the office, but Jacqui had been far more thorough. There were so many spells tied into the wards that Emily couldn’t help thinking Jacqui was uncomfortably paranoid. But then, Jacqui had reason to be paranoid. “I need a word with you. I’ll free you if you come with me.”
Adana nodded, quickly. “And you won’t tell her who tried to break in?”
“I won’t say a word,” Emily assured her. It was possible that Jacqui might be able to trace Adana, but she’d have to do it without Emily’s help. “Coming?”
She reached out with her magic and examined the wards. Jacqui had done a good job, linking transfiguration and freeze spells with a series of triggers that would be very hard to remove. The whole structure would have been unbreakable if it hadn’t been nestled within the school’s wards. Even so, Emily had to work hard to release Adana without being trapped herself. She could have broken free, she thought, but Gordian would have known there was only one possible suspect.
“Thank you,” Adana said, as she rubbed her palms. “I wasn’t looking forward to meeting her again.”
“I imagine not,” Emily said. She walked down the corridor, looking for an empty study room. There were four in the corridor, three of which were occupied. “Did you think you’d get away with it?”
“She wouldn’t have known it was me,” Adana said.
“You’d have gotten away with it if it wasn’t for those pesky wards,” Emily said deadpan, as she motioned Adana into the room and closed the door. “And now you owe me a favor.”
“I know.” Adana sat down on the table, wincing slightly. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Emily said. “Tell me ... what do you know about Fulvia?”
Adana flinched. “I ... why do you want to know?”
Emily considered - and rejected - a dozen possible answers. “You owe me a favor,” she said. Bullying answers out of the younger girl wasn’t nice, but at least it would give Adana some plausible deniability if Fulvia ever found out. Melissa’s memories made it clear that Fulvia’s idea of reasonable punishment for children was everyone else’s idea of cold-blooded child abuse. “How did she get back into power?”
“My father told me she was reappointed after a dispute over who should succeed her,” Adana said. She crossed her arms over her breasts, looking down resentfully. “I didn’t want her to come back.”
“I don’t blame you,” Emily said. “Why not?”
“She interviewed me two days ago,” Adana said. “Asked me about you, asked me about my marks ... she scolded me for not getting better marks. She told me that my future marriage would depend on getting better marks. I asked her ab
out Melissa and she slapped me!”
“Ouch,” Emily said. “Did she say anything about Melissa?”
“No,” Adana said. “She just slapped me.”
Emily leaned forward. “Does your father support her?”
“I don’t know,” Adana said. “He told me I had to obey her, but ... but nothing else.”
“And what did she tell you?” Emily leaned forward. “Did she give you any special orders?”
“Nothing,” Adana said. “Unless you count telling me to get better marks.”
“That’s a piece of good advice,” Emily said. Gordian had told her the same thing. “What did she ask you about me?”
“How you treated me, when I was your mentee,” Adana said. “What you said to us, what you made us do ... she seemed disappointed in you. I don’t know why.”
She probably wanted evidence she could use to smear me, Emily thought. It certainly sounded like a probable explanation. And Adana failed to provide.
“If I was to give you a letter for your father,” Emily said slowly, “would it get to him without being intercepted?”
“I could send it directly to him,” Adana said. “And Fulvia is staying here. She wouldn’t have a chance to intercept it.”
“Unless she has someone watching the mail,” Emily mused. “Could you take the letter, personally?”
Adana’s face fell. “I can’t leave the school without permission. I could post the letter in Dragon’s Den, instead, but ... I couldn’t go home.”
Emily could have kicked herself. Of course Adana couldn’t go home without permission. And Gordian was unlikely to grant that permission ... certainly not without a very good reason.
“Drat,” she said, mildly. “I understand.”
“I could try asking him to meet me in Dragon’s Den,” Adana offered. “But he might just refer me to her.”
To Fulvia, Emily filled in, silently.
“Try anyway,” she said. It didn’t seem particularly hopeful, but ... it was all she had. “Did she say anything else to you?”
Graduation Day (Schooled in Magic Book 14) Page 18
