Trial By Fire (Schooled in Magic Book 7)

by Christopher Nuttall

  Emily nodded. “End of the first term, start of the third term.”

  “Good,” Lady Barb said. “Missing either of those could cause you to fail.”

  “Thank you,” Emily said. She finished her Kava and stood up. “If I’m not going to become a Healer, will I still have to go on the field trips?”

  “I will probably take you to the Halfway House,” Lady Barb said. “You’ve already amassed some experience in the Cairngorms, so there should be no need to take you to Dragon’s Den to observe more mundane problems. Still...we will see.”

  Emily nodded, then turned and walked out of the room and through the classroom back into the corridor. Melissa waited outside, leaning against the stone wall and looking impatient. Emily hesitated, then smiled. Maybe Melissa had been an enemy, once upon a time, but they weren’t enemies any longer. And Melissa owed her a considerable debt.

  “She should be free now,” Emily said. “Are you hoping to become a Healer?”

  “It’s a possibility,” Melissa said. “My family can’t object any longer.”

  She looked awkward, so Emily changed the subject. “How’s Markus?”

  Melissa smiled. She had always been pretty, but now Emily could see just what Markus saw in her. The smile made her face come alive.

  “He’s fine,” she said. “He has a place to stay in Beneficence, but he’s going to be coming here every weekend. The Gorgon - you know, my roommate - agreed to let us have the bedroom in exchange for some books I happen to own.”

  “I’m happy for you,” Emily said, and meant it. “Where is she going to sleep?”

  “I thought she had an agreement with you,” Melissa said. She frowned. “She could sleep on the floor, couldn’t she? If she took her blankets?”

  “Maybe,” Emily said. The Gorgon hadn’t asked her - nor, as far as she knew, had she asked Alassa or Imaiqah. Maybe she’d found a boyfriend herself. It wasn’t impossible, even if she did look inhuman. “Just don’t get in trouble with Madame Beauregard.”

  “Tell me about it,” Melissa said. “She’s strict!”

  Emily smiled as Melissa stepped into the classroom, then hastily walked back to the dorms, dodging a line of First Year students as she headed up the stairs. They stared at her, awestruck, which made her shake her head in disbelief. If they knew the truth, she was sure, they would be a great deal less impressed.

  “Emily,” Alassa said, as Emily entered the bedroom. She was wearing trousers and a shirt with a tiny silver button pinned just above her left breast. “You’re looking at the new Dorm Monitor for Fourth Year!”

  “Well done,” Emily said, closing the door behind her. “What sort of powers do you have?”

  “Apparently, I’m meant to report any malefactors to Madame Beauregard, if they don’t stop misbehaving at once,” Alassa said.

  “So she can’t punish anyone on her own authority,” Imaiqah put in. “We’re saved.”

  Emily rolled her eyes and sat down on her bed. “I had a bit of bad news today,” she said, “but I’m going to get through it.”

  “Good,” Alassa said. “Now, what was it?”

  “Master Grey is going to be my tutor for Martial Magic,” Emily said.

  “Ouch,” Alassa said. “Jade says he’s tough.”

  “He is,” Emily agreed. “Very tough.”

  Chapter Ten

  “I HEAR THAT ALASSA IS DEFINITELY the Dorm Monitor,” Caleb said, as he entered the workroom Emily had booked the previous day. “Is that good or bad?”

  Emily shrugged. “I don’t know yet,” she said. “What was the last one like?”

  “Chased a couple of us through the corridors, once upon a time,” Caleb said. He looked down at his scarred hands. “I didn’t stick around long enough to know if they get nastier as the year goes on.”

  “I suppose they do,” Emily said. “They don’t have that much power, do they?”

  She ran her hand through her hair as she sat down, then looked at the three metal worktables, the wok and the ingredients she’d borrowed from Professor Thande after his introductory class in the morning. He’d insisted on going through safety precautions with her time and time again, pointing out that Manaskol was dangerously volatile at the best of times and Caleb, at least, had been seriously injured trying to brew it. Emily had listened carefully, knowing he was right. If Zed hadn’t patiently taught her to brew the potion, again and again, she wouldn’t be so confident now.

  “No, they don’t have that much power,” Caleb said. He placed his bag on the table and started to pull out the mass-produced pieces of spell mosaics. “The worst they can do is report troublemakers to the House Mothers or Fathers.”

  Emily winced. Alassa would have a choice between doing her duty, which would earn her a reputation as a sneak, or not doing her duty and being punished for failure. It wasn’t something Emily would have wanted, not when her natural instinct was to shy away from confrontation. But would she have said no if she’d been asked?

  “I’m sure she’ll do a good job,” she said, instead. “Did you get approval to have the rest of the mosaics produced in Dragon’s Den?”

  “We’ll be responsible for paying for them, but yes,” Caleb said. “We have to submit a list of expenses at the end of the year, I think; if they agree we spent the money on items related to the project, they’ll give us a refund.”

  Emily nodded, slowly. “Good,” she said. It was almost a shame that Yodel had moved to Cockatrice, but there were other enchanters - and blacksmiths, and woodcarvers - in Dragon’s Den. “Have you found any likely candidates?”

  “We’ll have to go visit the city, probably towards the end of the month,” Caleb said. “Unless we can convince the tutors to let us go early...”

  “Maybe,” Emily said. Fifth and Sixth Year students could visit Dragon’s Den at any time, but First to Fourth Years could only go in a set rota. Their first weekend in Dragon’s Den, according to the timetable, was two weeks off. “We could try to convince them that you really should be in Fifth Year.”

  “I don’t think the Grandmaster would be impressed,” Caleb said. “I’m not a Fifth Year student.”

  Emily nodded reluctantly, and started to set up the wok. It had been years since her first lecture, but Professor Thande hadn’t hesitated to call out anyone who forgot how to prepare to make a potion, let alone basic safety precautions. She checked the recipe - she doubted she could brew it from memory - and lined up the ingredients in neat little rows. Once she needed to add them, she recalled from painful experience, there would be no time to fetch them from the cupboard.

  “I’m not sure how much help I’ll be,” Caleb said, apologetically. “My hands...”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Emily said. She wouldn’t have cared to try to brew even a basic potion with shaky hands. Adding too much of almost anything would probably lead to an explosion. “Once the Manaskol is brewed, I’ll need to dab it on the wood very quickly.”

  “I’ll set them up over here,” Caleb said. He moved his bag to the second table, starting to pull the pieces of wood and iron out onto the table. Emily couldn’t help being reminded of custard creams; a piece of wood on each side, glued together by the Manaskol. But the Manaskol would hold the spell components, just ready and raring to go. “How long should this take?”

  “Not long,” Emily said. She pulled her wand from the bag, placed it on the table, and lit the heat under the wok. “I’ll get started now.”

  Alchemy had never been her favorite subject, not when it was sometimes dangerously unpredictable, but she had to admit there was something almost relaxing about putting the ingredients together to create a magical effect. The liquid started to bubble almost at once, then turned a dark golden color as she added more ingredients; moments later, she reached for the wand and used it to stir the brew, watching as magic flowed into the liquid. It started to bubble alarmingly - Emily braced herself, ready to dive beneath the table at the first sign of an impending explosion - and then settl
ed. A sheen of magic shimmered over the wok as she put out the heat and used the wand to part the liquid. It slowly congealed into something resembling glue.

  “It’s ready,” she said.

  “You’re good at this,” Caleb said with open admiration. “I managed to blow myself up.”

  Emily blushed. “Practice,” she said. Whitehall’s students were introduced to Manaskol in Fourth Year, a year later than Mountaintop’s. Caleb had needed to learn to brew the potion very quickly, just so he could use it for himself. Haste, in this case, had led to disaster. “I spent half of Third Year learning to brew it.”

  “Thank you,” Caleb said. “You might have made the difference between success and failure!”

  He reached for a brush, picked up a piece of wood and carefully dabbed the Manaskol onto the rune carved into it. The Manaskol settled quickly; he hastily picked up a second piece of wood and jammed it on top of the first. Emily watched as the glue-like material gummed up, locking the pieces of wood together, smiling as it became clear it had worked.

  They now had a working spell mosaic.

  “We have one piece,” Caleb said. “Can you start putting together the others? Make sure the runes match or...or something will happen.”

  Emily smiled - that something was probably nothing - and did as she was told. It wasn’t easy putting the pieces together, but she kept working on it until she thought she had mastered the skill. Caleb put several more together - his hands shook at one point, causing him to lose his grip on one of the pieces of wood - and turned his attention to the larger pieces of wood, the ones that would have to be carved up once they were stuck together. It wasn’t long until they had something that looked like a flattened sandwich.

  “We can’t use magic to cut them,” Caleb said. “I’m going to have to take this one down to the woodcarver and see what he makes of it.”

  “True,” Emily agreed.

  She contemplated it for a long moment. Manaskol conducted magic. Even something as minor as a charmed blade would react badly when it touched the liquid. How had it been done on Earth? A powered fretsaw would be perfect, but she knew there was no way she could produce one in time to be useful. Unless...she could make a very thin blade and try to use it to cut the wood. Or would that count as magic?

  “We might be able to make a very thin blade,” she said, carefully. Maybe it would be better not to discuss molecules, even though part of her wanted to show off, to impress him. It was only a short step from molecules to atoms and then to something that might split those atoms and release a flash of energy. “But it might just be touched by magic.”

  “We could probably experiment,” Caleb agreed. “Can you bottle the remaining Manaskol? I think we’ll need more of it in the future.”

  Emily nodded, carefully pouring the liquid into a charmed bottle. Professor Thande had demonstrated, once, that they were unbreakable by anything short of greater magic. He’d also outlined, in loving detail, just what kind of disasters they could expect by shattering several bottles in close proximity, allowing the contents to mix together. They’d be lucky, he’d concluded, if they survived the experience.

  “Done,” she said, capping the bottle with the ease of long practice. The golden liquid inside seemed to be shimmering gently, sending waves of light into the room. “It’ll be ready when we need it.”

  “Better make sure no one else takes it,” Caleb suggested. “That’s worth a small fortune in itself.”

  “We can always sell it if we end up with too much,” Emily agreed. She opened a cupboard, linked it to her magical signature to ensure no one else could open it without permission, and placed the bottle inside. “It’s supposed to be good for paying a year’s taxes.”

  “That’s true in Beneficence,” Caleb said, as she walked back to the table. “Mother brews a big wok every year, then gives it to the Guildsmen. They’re always very grateful.”

  He picked up the first spell mosaic, held it so she could see the rune, and carefully placed it on the table between them. Emily watched as he put together the next five pieces as carefully as if they were part of a simple jigsaw puzzle, without ever quite allowing them to touch. Piece by piece, the runes on the top spelled out a diagram, a flowchart of commands for magic. Emily remembered Mistress Irene’s patient lessons, back when she’d first come to Whitehall, and smiled. In some ways, it was like going back to First Year and returning to first principles.

  “It’s harder to recall how to do this now,” Caleb confessed. “Casting spells has become second nature to me.”

  “Me too,” Emily said. Once, she’d had to work her way through the variables before casting the spell; now, casting a spell was largely a matter of instinct. No wonder Basic Charms was such a vital class, she reminded herself. Without a good understanding of the underlying theory of magic, the student would be forever crippled. “But this isn’t that different from using a wand.”

  “It is,” Caleb objected. “A wand will only cast the spell embedded in it, unless you overpower the spell and the wand explodes. Here, we can craft the spell and channel magic into the mosaic.”

  He put the final piece in place and looked up at her. “Does that look suitable?”

  Emily walked around to stand beside him, then worked her way through the spell components, one by one. The light spell was one of the simplest spells she’d learned in First Year, yet - with a little bit of work - it could be alarmingly complex. Mistress Irene had taught her that everything from brightness to the light globe’s position could be altered, simply by altering the variables within the spell. But she couldn’t see anything wrong with Caleb’s work.

  “I think so,” she said. “Nothing should happen if you put them together, not now.”

  Caleb nodded, carefully assembling the mosaic. It occurred to Emily - too late - that the Manaskol might not have dried, that the pieces might remain stuck together. If that had happened, they’d have to make more...she cursed inwardly, and watched to see what would happen. Next time, they’d be more careful.

  “There,” Caleb said, once the pieces were linked together. “Do you want to do the honors?”

  “You can,” Emily said. She’d already made the Manaskol and besides, the spell mosaics were his idea. “I’ll watch from here.”

  Caleb nodded, and carefully pressed his fingertips against the first piece. Emily closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her senses, opening them again once she felt a flow of magic spilling from Caleb into the wood. There was a long second when nothing happened - she wondered if they’d made a mistake somewhere - and then a light globe shimmered into existence, hanging over the table. Emily took one look and knew they’d done something wrong. Instead of the soft light they’d ordered, the light globe was so bright it hurt her eyes and it wobbled erratically on its axis. She covered her eyes hastily as the temperature rose sharply, and yanked Caleb back as the light started to flicker into a color she could only call nasty. And then there was a small explosion on the table as the globe snapped out of existence.

  Caleb shoved her to the floor as the table shuddered a second time, blowing pieces of sawdust into the air.

  “Drat,” Caleb said, as he rolled off her. “I...”

  “At least we got something,” Emily said, reassuringly. His touch had felt...odd. “We know we’re doing something right.”

  She blinked hard - spots danced in front of her eyes - before sitting upright and looking at the mess they’d made. The table seemed intact - it was made of solid iron, after all - but the pieces of wood they’d glued together had been shattered into their component atoms. It was impossible to tell which piece had exploded first, yet it had clearly set off the others. She stood, then frowned. Apart from a small scar to the metal, there was no evidence they’d done anything on the table.

  “The variables may need to be altered for the mosaic,” Caleb said, looking down at his fingertips. “Or maybe I didn’t manage to charge them properly.”

  “Or maybe we used too much
Manaskol,” Emily said. She wasn’t sure how they could produce something industry-standard, not with just the two of them, but it should be possible. “Or the power you pumped in was simply too much for the spell.”

  “That sounds possible,” Caleb said, doubtfully.

  He sat down at the table and checked his notes. “We spent five years learning how to channel magic through our minds and wards,” he said. “How long has it been since we were truly precise?”

  “Years,” Emily agreed. “We should probably rebuild the spell mosaics, then practice with the spell until we only channel the bare minimum of power. Or” - she glanced at the wand, lying next to the wok - “practice with a wand instead.”

  Caleb shuddered. “Too dangerous, I would have thought,” he said. “But it might be workable.”

  “Maybe we can set up runes to draw excess power away from the spell,” Emily offered diffidently. She was fairly sure Professor Thande wouldn’t thank them for contaminating one of his workrooms with excess magic. Alchemy was dangerous enough without stray magic disrupting the process. “Even channel it back into the mosaic and keep the spell going...”

  “It might work,” Caleb said. He scribbled out a spell diagram on a piece of paper, and studied it thoughtfully. “There would probably still be some leakage. Perhaps if we nailed the pieces of wood together?”

  “They’d explode under the pressure,” Emily said. Pieces of wood flying around would be bad enough, but pieces of metal would be actively dangerous. “Maybe if we piled one set of mosaics on top of another.”

  “It’s something to consider,” Caleb agreed. “We’ll clean up now, and plot the next stage in the library.”

  Emily nodded. Together, they cleared up the remains of the wooden tiles and cleaned up the wok before returning it to the alchemy storeroom. Professor Thande was used to losing caldrons and woks, but he wouldn’t hesitate to bill them for any damage caused outside the planned lessons. Caleb checked his notes, muttered a duplicating charm, and passed Emily the spare copy. Emily took it gratefully and stuffed it in her pocket, then checked her watch.