Trial By Fire (Schooled in Magic Book 7)

by Christopher Nuttall

  “No,” Emily agreed. The charms infesting the building would go after them even if they were leaving...and, without magic, they would be completely defenseless. “But I don’t want to be caught by the Second Years.”

  “No,” Aloha agreed. They shared a long look. Being magic-less at Whitehall would invite attack, even from people who would normally never dare to take a shot at them. “That would be the final humiliation.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  MASTER GREY HADN’T LIED ABOUT THEIR homework assignments, Emily discovered, when they finally made it back to Whitehall and checked their lockers. In fact, he’d given Aloha two assignments and Emily three; to write an outline of their mistakes in Blackhall, to detail the strengths and weaknesses of combat sorcerers in battle and - for Emily personally - a complete report on everything she’d seen in the Blighted Lands. Emily, still smarting after the humiliation in Blackhall, pocketed the papers and headed up for a shower, praying that the potion would wear off before she started classes on Friday. Thankfully, when she woke up the following morning, her magic worked as normal.

  “You did make mistakes,” Alassa pointed out, when Emily complained to her. “But I think leaving you defenseless was a nasty stroke.”

  Emily nodded. “We could have been attacked by anyone,” she agreed. “He set us up deliberately.”

  Friday turned into the first real day of schooling, she discovered; she had three more classes and, by the time they finished, a small pile of assignments she had to complete by the end of the month. She carried them back to her room, sorted them out as best as she could, and started to work on Master Grey’s assignments. In hindsight, it was easy to see just how many mistakes they’d made; she’d seen his breastplate, she’d smelled the potion and she’d allowed herself to be distracted. The breastplate should have been a tip-off, she conceded reluctantly; he’d told them he wasn’t going to be using magic, so he shouldn’t have any problems wearing a charmed set of armor for protection.

  And he showed it to us deliberately, she reasoned. Trying to cast spells while wearing protective armor would be dangerous. He wanted us to have a chance to see it.

  She gritted her teeth as she finished the essay, then sighed. He’d included a note insisting he wanted the first and the third assignments completed by Tuesday, while Lady Barb had noted she wanted her assignment complete on Monday. It didn’t look as though she was going to have any time to spare for Caleb, even though they had to get a move on with their joint project. By the time they got the wood, they’d need a new plan of action before too much time was wasted. She reached for another sheet of paper, and started on Master Grey’s third assignment. He probably wanted to know all about the orcs.

  He’ll probably want me to go back there and count, she thought, sourly. How many were down at the bottom of the pit?

  Imaiqah found her that evening, sleeping on a pile of half-completed work. She helped Emily to undress without saying a word, turning out the light as soon as Emily was in bed. Emily slept, dreaming fitfully of orcs and goblins and things that went bump in the night, but snapped awake the following morning feeling as if she hadn’t really slept at all, even though she’d missed Alassa’s return to the room. She was halfway through preparing for class when she remembered it was Saturday and she could sleep in, if she wanted.

  “I think you need to spend the morning with us,” Alassa said. “My father says that it’s vitally important to take time for yourself.”

  “Your father has a small army of minions he can fob his work onto,” Emily countered, crossly. She eyed the pieces of homework. Master Grey’s second assignment had a later due date, but it would probably be the hardest. And then she had essays to write for both Professor Thande and Professor Lombardi. “I can’t get anyone to do my work.”

  “Not unless you don’t care about passing,” Alassa agreed. It wasn’t impossible to cheat at Whitehall, but failing to grasp the basics generally meant a magician couldn’t move on to more advanced matters. “But you really do need a break.”

  She pulled Emily out of the room, down to breakfast and then out onto the playing fields, where a number of students were already running around. Alassa’s team gathered around her, and headed into the arena - Alassa had clearly booked it first - where the would-be players, including Frieda, waited. Emily waved cheerfully to the younger girl, and headed over to the mound to sit on the grass and wait. She might not have enjoyed team sports, either as a player or a spectator, but she knew they were important to her friends. And besides, the sun beaming down from overhead was warm. She lay back on the grass and closed her eyes for a long moment, enjoying the sensation. Maybe there was something to be said for sunbathing after all.

  “Hi,” Caleb said. “Emily?”

  Emily opened her eyes, smiling, as Caleb sat down next to her. “Hi,” she said. A loud whoop from the arena cut her off before she could say anything else. “What’s happening over there?”

  “Someone seems to have scored a point or something,” Caleb said. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

  He gave Emily a sharp look. “Don’t you like Ken?”

  “Not really,” Emily said. “I played it once and it was a minor disaster. What about you?”

  “Stronghold didn’t field more than a single team,” Caleb said. “I never actually played.”

  Emily frowned. “How did they manage to compete?”

  Caleb laughed. “Let’s just say that there’s a reason Stronghold is at the bottom of the tables and leave it at that,” he said. “There just aren’t enough magicians at the school to put together a proper team, let alone two. The school team gets next to no practice because none of the other schools will play friendly matches...”

  “Because it would help their competitors win when the games come around,” Emily said. It made sense, in an unethical kind of way. But then, if she’d cared who actually won, she might have been inclined to refuse a friendly match too. “What do they play?”

  “Football, mostly,” Caleb said. He rubbed his jaw meaningfully. “You have to be a hulking brute of a man to survive on the football pitch. Casper, of course, fitted in perfectly.”

  Emily smiled as another whoop echoed out from the arena. “I think I’m falling behind already,” she said. “Master Grey is trying to bury me in assignments, the other tutors aren’t far behind...I don’t know when I’m going to have time to work on the project.”

  Caleb looked alarmed. “We can work on Wednesday and Friday evenings,” he said, after a moment of thought. “You wouldn’t have Martial Magic, would you? Not then.”

  “No,” Emily said. Her body had ached throughout Friday, to the point where she’d reluctantly rubbed cream on her sore muscles. She knew from experience that it would hurt less, the more she practiced, but it was still unpleasant. “But I don’t know what sort of condition I’ll be in.”

  It wasn’t fair to him, she conceded reluctantly. He needed her to produce the Manaskol, if nothing else. She couldn’t do that if she was aching everywhere, while his hands were still too shaky to trust with explosive ingredients. Maybe she should talk to the Grandmaster...but that would be too much like letting Master Grey, and her fears, win. She could wait for a few weeks, see how everything went and...and see what happened.

  “I do have some additional ideas,” Caleb said, reaching into his pocket and producing a small notebook. “I thought you’d like to see them.”

  “I would,” Emily said. She frowned as she remembered Nanette stealing her notes, back in Second Year. God alone knew where they’d ended up. “Do you have protections on the notebook?”

  Caleb looked surprised - and a little offended. “Of course,” he said, stiffly. “I’m the only person who can open the cover.”

  He held it out to her. “Here,” he said. “Try and open it.”

  Emily took the notebook and held it in her hand, feeling the charms protecting the notebook from unfriendly eyes. Lady Barb had made Emily work hard to protect all of her notebooks,
testing and retesting the defenses until they were practically unbreakable. It was immodest, but she was fairly sure she knew more about protective charms and anti-theft jinxes than any of the other students at Whitehall. Lady Barb had been very encouraging.

  The charms hissed and snapped at her, repelling her touch rather than lashing out, then slowly broke as she concentrated her magic and snapped them, one by one. Caleb let out a strangled sound as the notebook fell open, revealing a handful of sketches. Most of them were of unfamiliar people, but one was of Emily herself. It looked far more realistic than the paintings hung throughout the school.

  “I like sketching people,” Caleb said. His face was bright red. “It...it isn’t something my father used to encourage.”

  “It’s nice,” Emily said. She glanced at the other faces - a grim-faced man who had to be Caleb’s father, a pair of younger girls - and then looked up at him. “Really, you’re very good at this.”

  “Thank you,” Caleb said. He was still blushing. “I...really?”

  “Yes,” Emily said. She flipped through the pages until she reached the notes. “I think you’ll have to work on your protections, though. Lady Barb forced me to work hard on mine.”

  Caleb grinned, rather nervously. “Do I get to try to crack one of yours?”

  Emily fished a notebook out of her pocket, passed it to him and lost herself in reviewing Caleb’s spell diagrams. There was nothing shaky about the drawings, even though his hands shook as they held her notebook and probed the defenses with magic. She frowned inwardly, remembering something she’d seen on television years ago, and turned her attention back to Caleb. Lady Barb wouldn’t be pleased if Caleb broke into the notebook - if nothing else, she would have to teach Emily how to counter whatever specific trick Caleb had used - but better he cracked the defenses than someone unfriendly.

  “No luck,” Caleb said, finally. “What do you think of the diagrams?”

  “Workable,” Emily said. She flicked back to the sketch and admired it for a long moment. It really did look like her. “When did you draw this?”

  “Just after the...ah...confrontation in Cockatrice,” Caleb said.

  “It would have to have been after your accident,” Emily mused, thinking out loud. “We didn’t meet before then, did we?”

  “Of course not,” Caleb said, puzzled. “Why...?”

  “You couldn’t have drawn this with shaky hands,” Emily said. She flipped back to the spell diagram. “And you couldn’t have drawn this either, could you?”

  Caleb frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you’re having problems when you think about working magic or brewing a potion,” Emily said. In hindsight, would their first spell mosaic have worked perfectly if Emily had supplied the magic? “But if you’re not having problems when drawing out diagrams or sketching me, it suggests there isn’t a physical problem...”

  She broke off. Lady Barb had told her, in no uncertain terms, that the Allied Lands had never attempted any form of mental treatment - and never would. In a world where powerful sorcerers were a little unstable - and necromancers were madder than hatters - anything that might help them to control their powers would make them a far greater threat. If she found a cure, or something that started to help Caleb recover the full use of his hands, where would it end?

  “My hands are damaged,” Caleb said. He held one up for her to inspect. His hand looked burned, as if something had permanently damaged his skin. “Those scars don’t fade. They had to use rituals to drain some of the excess magic from the wounds.”

  “Yes, but you’re still drawing normally,” Emily said. “Why do you have problems brewing potions if your hands work fine for sketching?”

  Caleb frowned. “I...”

  “Emily,” a voice called. Emily looked up to see Frieda running towards them, carrying a ball in her hand. “I got in!”

  “Well done,” Emily said, as Frieda sat down facing them. “How many others got in?”

  “Three more, all in my year,” Frieda said. She shot Caleb an unreadable look, then smiled at Emily. “We’re still the youngest team in the school!”

  “Very well done,” Emily said. The older teams largely consisted of older players, but Alassa had started recruiting younger students. She thought it gave them more time to learn. “You will have to work hard, you know.”

  “I can do it,” Frieda insisted. “I’ve been practicing casting a spell without making it obvious I cast it.”

  “Be careful you don’t get caught,” Emily warned.

  She smiled. Using magic on other players was officially forbidden, but everyone agreed it was perfectly fine as long as the caster didn’t get caught by the referee. Come to think of it, the rules only forbade using magic on the opposing team. Could there be some advantage in casting spells on one’s fellows? She couldn’t think of one, but Alassa might see a way to take advantage of the loophole.

  “I won’t,” Frieda assured her. “The princess says that anything is legal as long as you don’t get caught.”

  “And in football, anything is legal if you get caught or not,” Caleb said, mournfully. “There are four full Healers at Stronghold and they’re kept very busy.”

  Emily nodded, and gave Frieda a hug. “Well done,” she said, again. “I’m proud of you.”

  “Thank you.” Frieda beamed. “What are you going to do now?”

  “I’m not sure,” Emily said. She wanted to rest, but she needed to exercise - she had to work off that damned demerit at some point - and she had assignments to complete. “I may need to go for a run.”

  “I can come with you,” Frieda said. “It might be fun...”

  “I’m not sure I’m allowed to take you into the forest,” Emily said. It was officially forbidden to everyone who wasn’t taking Martial Magic, although there were no warning signs around the outer edge. She’d always had the impression that the sergeants thought that anyone who ventured in without the proper training deserved everything they got. “We’d have to check with Sergeant Miles.”

  She passed Caleb his notebook, and got to her feet. “Can we catch up on” - she hastily calculated how long it would take to finish the remaining assignments - “Monday evening?”

  “It should be possible,” Caleb said. He closed the notebook and resealed it, then frowned. “I may also need to work on my protections.”

  “Definitely,” Emily said. It was unlikely that anyone would want to spy on a random student, but she knew she’d been spied on...and both Caleb and Aloha were geniuses, smarter than she was. Someone might well steal their concepts, turn them into workable ideas and then swear blind they were all their own work. “Lady Barb will help, if you ask her.”

  “I should chat with Professor Lombardi first,” Caleb said. “He’s my mentor.”

  He bowed to her, but hesitated just for a second before turning to head back towards the school. Emily watched him go, feeling a sensation she couldn’t quite identify, but glanced back at the arena when another cheer split the air. Alassa was probably testing some of the shakier recruits before making up her mind about the final candidates.

  “Let’s go,” she said. “Sergeant Miles should be in the Armory, unless he’s outside with the students.”

  There was no sign of Sergeant Miles when they entered the Armory, but Master Grey was sitting at a desk, working on something that looked like a large piece of clockwork. Emily couldn’t even guess at its purpose; she started to back out, but Master Grey looked up and saw them before they could make their escape.

  “Lady Emily,” he said, his voice cold and hard. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

  Emily forced herself to remain calm. “I would like to take Frieda into the forest, so we can both run along the marked track.”

  Master Grey rose to his feet. “You plan to take a Second Year student into a dangerous forest? A forest infested with wild animals and primed with spells and traps designed to target magicians in their Fifth or Sixth Year?�
�

  “I was a Second Year student when I was first taken into the forest,” Emily said, refusing to be intimidated. She’d also run through the smaller copse as a First Year. “Sergeant Miles raised no objection to my joining the other students, or running the gauntlet in Blackhall.”

  “I see,” Master Grey said. “Does your friend have the experience of a previous year in Martial Magic?”

  “I was at Mountaintop,” Frieda piped up.

  “So you were,” Master Grey agreed. He gave Frieda a sharp look, then returned his gaze to Emily. “You could have put your friend in considerable danger. Detention. Both of you.”

  Emily felt her heart sink. “I need to finish...”

  Master Grey cut her off. “Report to Mistress Irene and inform her that you have both been assigned detention,” he said. “I will, of course, be checking to make sure you actually report to her.”

  Of course, Emily thought, numbly.

  “It isn’t her fault,” she protested. “I...”

  Master Grey interrupted her, again. “You have a knack for putting people in danger, Lady Emily,” he added, darkly. “I intend to break you of that habit. And the habit other people have, time and again, of listening to you.”

  He pointed a long finger at the door. “Go.”

  Emily clenched her teeth to keep from saying something she knew would earn her a worse punishment, and turned and walked out of the door, careful to close it tightly behind Frieda and herself. The younger girl seemed surprised, but not shaken. But then, she’d handled worse tutors at Mountaintop.

  “I’m sorry,” Emily said. A detention on the weekend...they’d be scrubbing floors, if they were lucky. If Mistress Irene was in a bad mood, they’d be sent to the Warden before being dispatched to detention. “I didn’t mean to cost you your free time.”

  “At least it will be with you,” Frieda said. She slipped her hand into Emily’s, then squeezed lightly. “I don’t mind.”

  Maybe you don’t, Emily thought. But I do.