Emily closed her eyes in pain. Frieda had wanted to spend time with her, lots of time with her. They’d gone walking, practiced magic, played games...she’d even shown hints of jealousy when Emily had spent time with Caleb. In hindsight, it was all too clear. She’d toyed with Frieda’s feelings without ever realizing what she’d done. And...
“I should go see her,” Emily said, rising. “I...”
“Sit down,” Alassa said. She tugged Emily back onto the bed. “Right now, neither of you are in any fit state for a chat. Give her time to come to terms with you not thinking of her in that manner, then you can talk.”
“She could have told me,” Emily muttered.
Alassa snorted. “And are you good at talking about your feelings?”
Emily flushed. “Point taken,” she said. “When did you become the mature one?”
“I’m sure you asked me that before,” Alassa teased lightly, although her smile didn’t touch her eyes. “When I have a fight with Jade, I’m sure I can rely on you to calm me down and tell me I’m being an idiot.”
“Maybe,” Emily said. “What if he’s being the idiot?”
“Then you can tell me that and we’ll both feel better,” Alassa said, briskly. “Now; what are you going to do about Caleb?”
“I don’t know,” Emily said. A thought struck her. “What do you think he’s doing?”
“Probably wondering if someone pranked him by sticking girl-repellent on his lips,” Alassa said, unkindly. Emily glowered at her. “Or if he forgot to brush his teeth and his breath was so smelly you fled in terror. Or if he accidentally cast a revulsion charm and you now can’t bear the sight of him. Or...”
“I left him down in the courtyard,” Emily said. “I should go see...”
“If he’s still there?” Alassa finished. She shook her head. “He’s probably talking to one of his male friends about how unpredictable girls are.”
Emily sighed. “I messed this up, didn’t I?”
“Now you know why the aristocracy prefers to arrange marriages for its children,” Alassa said. “There’s less room for emotions to get in the way of cold calculation.”
“You chose Jade,” Emily said. She looked at her friend. “How did you feel when he kissed you for the first time?”
“Excited and scared,” Alassa admitted. “How did you feel when Caleb kissed you?”
“Excited and scared,” Emily said. The memory taunted her. “But you didn’t run.”
“No,” Alassa agreed. “I didn’t.”
She patted Emily’s back, awkwardly. “Why did you run?”
“I liked it,” Emily said. “I wanted to go further. Much further. And the thought was unbearable, so I ran.”
“I’m not sure that makes any kind of sense,” Alassa said.
Emily rested her head in her hands. “I’m an idiot,” she said. “Now I have two people mad at me.”
“I don’t think Caleb’s the sort of person to get mad just because you ran after he kissed you,” Alassa said. “If I’d thought he wasn’t a nice person, I would have said something before you became involved with him. So would Imaiqah. On the other hand, you probably owe him an explanation.”
“I don’t know what to tell him,” Emily confessed. “What do I say?”
“The truth is probably the best option,” Alassa said. She stood, then knelt in front of Emily, forcing her to look down. “Do you want to kiss him again?”
“Yes...no...I don’t know,” Emily said. “I...”
“I spent ages working up the courage to kiss Jade,” Alassa said. “It wasn’t easy.”
“It wouldn’t have been,” Emily mused. Alassa had to remain a virgin until her wedding night, even though there was no logical reason for it in a world where contraceptive potions and fatherhood spells were common. If her reputation was tarnished, she would - at the very least - have to face a humiliating physical exam to prove she was still a virgin. “Did you want to go further?”
Alassa colored. “Oh yes,” she said. “Much further.”
Emily shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said, although she wasn’t sure what she was apologizing for. “I need to go find him and apologize.”
“I thought you said you had detention,” Alassa said. “Master Grey is pushing you hard, isn’t he?”
“Yeah,” Emily muttered. She stood, then unhooked the dress and allowed it to fall to the floor. There were a handful of bruises on her body from her last session with Master Grey, all fading slowly into her pale skin. “Let me wash, then I’ll go find Lady Barb.”
“Leave the dress,” Alassa advised. “It can be washed and then you can wear it again, if you like.”
Emily shrugged as she stepped into the bathroom. She wanted to spend longer in the shower, but she knew that Master Grey would have made a point of logging her detention as soon as he returned to his office. Lady Barb wouldn’t be too pleased if she was late, even though she hadn’t been given a specific time. At the very least, she should have gone to the office and requested a time to return to carry out the detention. Her cheeks burned at the injustice of it all as she washed herself down, then used a spell to dry herself. Pulling on a gown, she returned to her bed and found a new set of robes. There was probably no point in donning another dress.
“Good luck,” Alassa said, once Emily was dressed. “And if you do see Caleb, or Frieda, be honest with them.”
“I will,” Emily said. She’d be passing the Second Year bedrooms on her way to Lady Barb’s office. If Frieda was there, she could have a little chat with the younger girl, even though Alassa had advised against it. “Or at least I’ll do my best.”
Alassa eyed her doubtfully, then shrugged. “I know what will cheer you up,” she added. “We’ll have a midnight feast on the battlements again.”
Emily blinked. “Aren’t you supposed to be the Dorm Monitor?”
“I’ll speak to myself very severely afterwards,” Alassa said. She grinned. “Don’t you remember the last time we sneaked out and had a feast?”
Emily rolled her eyes. Whoever had written stories about the joys of midnight feasts in boarding schools had clearly never been to a boarding school, let alone enjoyed a midnight feast. It had been fun, she had to admit, but it had also left her far too tired the following morning. And there was the ever-present risk of being caught and punished for being out of bounds after Lights Out. Maybe it was a tradition, but it wasn’t one she really intended to uphold.
“It’ll be fun,” Alassa wheedled. “And it will do you a power of good.”
“If you like,” Emily said. “I’ll leave you with the task of sorting out the food.”
She stepped out of her room and walked down the corridor, passing through the wards that marked the edge of Fourth Year territory. Whitehall still seemed deserted, although she could hear the sound of someone singing in the distance, a sweet but sad song about a witch who’d fallen in love with a dying man and sacrificed her magic to save his life. Given what she’d learned about some of the forbidden medical spells, Emily had a good idea what she’d done to save her lover. The song ended with them settling down together as man and wife, although Emily doubted it would have worked out so well. She’d only had magic for four years and she wasn’t sure she could live without it any longer.
Madame Razz was standing outside the entrance to the Second Year rooms, berating a young boy Emily didn’t know. His head kept twisting from side to side, as if he was trying to physically avoid the House Mother’s lecture. Emily cleared her throat as Madame Razz dispatched him to see the Warden, then waited until the House Mother deigned to notice her presence. She was known for being alternatively motherly and incredibly strict.
“Emily,” Madame Razz said. “Speak.”
“I would like to see Frieda,” Emily said. It wasn’t common for older students to visit younger ones in their dorms. She’d need the House Mother’s permission to enter if Frieda wasn’t there. “Is that possible?”
Madame Razz close
d her eyes, reaching out with her mind to touch the wards. “Frieda is not currently in her room,” she said. “I suggest you look for her elsewhere.”
Emily sighed, inwardly. The wards should be able to locate Frieda within a split-second, but she knew Madame Razz wouldn’t help her to find the younger girl unless it was a real emergency. Whitehall’s unspoken rules baffled her at times, although she thought she understood. The wards monitored the school too closely for any abuse to pass unnoticed or unreported.
“I will,” she said. “If you happen to see her, please will you let her know I was looking for her?”
“I suppose,” Madame Razz grumbled. “But I am not your messenger girl.”
Emily nodded in thanks, then hurried down the corridor, past a small group of students who appeared to be staring at the floor. She wondered if someone had managed to shrink themselves into near-invisibility or something, then dismissed the thought. Anything really dangerous would have been caught by the wards. She kept a sharp eye out for Caleb as she walked, but saw no sign of him. For all she knew, he and Frieda were both walking outside the school...
She stopped outside Lady Barb’s office and knocked on the open door. Lady Barb was tending to a handful of girls, all of whom had bloody noses. Emily stared at them in disbelief. How could nine girls all have the same identical injury? Had they all walked into a wall at the same time? Or been pushed?
Lady Barb turned and looked at her. “Emily. Why are you here?”
“I have detention,” Emily confessed. At least she’d have a chance to talk to Lady Barb afterwards. “Master Grey sent me here.”
“Again,” Lady Barb said, disapprovingly.
“Yes,” Emily said.
“Well, you can help me heal these people,” Lady Barb said, after a long moment. She waved a hand towards a pale-skinned girl who couldn’t be any older than Frieda. “Consider it a practical test of your abilities.”
Emily swallowed, and went to work.
Chapter Twenty-One
“TELL ME SOMETHING,” LADY BARB SAID, once the last of the girls had been healed and dispatched to her bedroom. “How many girls are there in Second Year?”
Emily thought about it. Whitehall normally had around fifty girls and seventy boys per year, but there had been a recruiting shortfall after Shadye’s attack, when she’d been in her First Year. She had the impression, from Frieda, that there weren’t actually that many girls in her year...
“Around thirty,” she guessed.
“Thirty-nine,” Lady Barb said. “And thirty-seven of them have the same injury.”
Emily blinked. “All, but two? How?”
“A very good question,” Lady Barb said. “They all say they ran into a wall.”
That couldn’t be right, Emily was sure. The younger students did go running through the building, and it was at least reasonably possible that one or two might accidentally run into a wall, but how could all of them, save two, make the same stupid mistake? Even if the school had been reconfiguring itself at the time, it wouldn’t have produced the same injury...
“They’re lying,” she said. “They must be lying. Someone beat them up or cursed them or...”
“They’re all telling the truth,” Lady Barb said. “I checked. They all swear they ran into walls and they’re all telling the truth.”
“I don’t believe it,” Emily said. “Did someone tamper with their memories?”
“Not according to the wards,” Lady Barb said. “No one has used anything more dangerous than a mild compulsion charm over the past couple of weeks, at least outside class. I don’t think there was anything strong enough to cause such a lasting effect in one person, let alone thirty-seven. It makes no sense.”
Emily considered it. “Who was spared and why?”
“Frieda and Tomas,” Lady Barb said. “And there doesn’t seem to be any reason why they were spared.”
She gave Emily a sharp look. “Have you noticed any odd behavior recently?”
“Imaiqah was chewing her fingernails,” Emily said, after a moment’s thought. “I don’t recall anything else.”
“Might be nothing,” Lady Barb said. She shook her head, then sat down at the desk. “And now we’ve healed the wounded, perhaps you could explain to me how you managed to earn another detention on a weekend?”
Emily swallowed, and started to explain.
“I shall be having words with Caleb,” Lady Barb said, when she’d finished. “Or, rather, I shall be having words with the Grandmaster, who will have words with Caleb.”
“But...” Emily caught herself, then pressed on. “He didn’t...”
“You are meant to be doing a joint project with him,” Lady Barb said, coldly. “I don’t believe you will find it any easier with this hanging over you.”
Emily winced. She’d honestly never considered the possibility of having to work with a former boyfriend. It had never happened before; even Jade, when he’d asked her to marry him, had been on the verge of leaving Whitehall. Caleb...she wasn’t sure what he was, here and now, but it wouldn’t be easy to work with him if matters remained unresolved between them. God alone knew what he thought of her.
“It wasn’t fair of him to spring this on you,” Lady Barb continued. “I believe the Grandmaster will be unhappy.”
“Please will you let me talk to him first?” Emily pleaded. It wasn’t right for Caleb to be punished because of her problems. “I don’t think it will get in our way.”
Lady Barb arched her eyebrows. “And just how many relationships have you had?”
Emily flushed. “You’re dating Sergeant Miles...”
“We’re not actually in the same job,” Lady Barb said, cutting her off. “More to the point” - she started to tick points off on her fingers - “we are both older than you, more mature than you, and considerably more honest with one another. How easy do you think it would be to work together if you happened to be lovers?”
“We could do it,” Emily said.
“I’m sure you could,” Lady Barb said, sarcastically. “Why did you run?”
“I liked the kiss,” Emily confessed. “And the feelings were so strong I ran from them.”
“Because they made you feel vulnerable,” Lady Barb said. She smiled, rather tiredly. “I think you need to learn to cope with your feelings, rather than suppress them or run from them.”
“It isn’t easy,” Emily muttered.
“Very little worth doing is easy,” Lady Barb countered. She rested her elbows on the table and leaned forward, placing her fingertips together. “I will delay speaking to the Grandmaster if - if - you speak to Caleb today and sort yourself out. If you don’t, I will have no option but to report the new problem and let him handle it.”
Emily swallowed. “You want me to face up to the problem,” she said. “But...”
Lady Barb met her eyes. “But what?”
“Nothing,” Emily said, rubbing her forehead. It felt as if she’d been awake for days, rather than hours. “I’ll speak to him.”
“Good,” Lady Barb said. She closed her eyes for a long moment, reaching out and querying the wards. “You’ll find him in the workroom, thankfully. He’s alone.”
She held up a hand before Emily could rise. “I think we’ll count your work here as your detention,” she said. “However...”
There was a long pause. “There’s something that needs to be said,” she warned, “and said clearly. You cannot keep running from your problems.”
“I know,” Emily said.
“The Grandmaster - and I - are very concerned about just what will happen when you come of age,” Lady Barb continued. “We and--” - her lips thinned in silent disapproval “--Void have spent a great deal of time running interference for you. We have done this, at least in part, because you are both a stranger to our world and underage, at least by magical standards. It cannot last indefinitely. Once you pass Fourth Year, you will be considered fully adult. It will no longer be possible to protect you from s
ome of the less savory elements of our world.”
Emily opened her mouth, although she was unsure what to say. “I...”
“You are, quite probably, the most sought-after person in the Allied Lands,” Lady Barb warned. “If Whitehall wasn’t so strongly defended, if the Grandmaster didn’t have so many magicians who owed him a favor, if...if your supposed father wasn’t so powerful, if...it’s quite possible you would have been assassinated by now. Or kidnapped by someone less inclined to worry about retaliation if they kill you, accidentally or otherwise.”
“I know,” Emily said.
“Then learn,” Lady Barb snapped. “You are good, brilliant even, at sticking up for others. I dare say the reason Frieda is crushing on you is because you are the first person ever to give a damn for her. You stuck up for Alassa, you stuck up for Imaiqah, you even stuck up for Melissa when I’d bet good money you were tempted to hurl her into the dragon’s mouth. But you’re very bad at sticking up for yourself.”
Emily felt her breath catch in her throat. “I...”
“You have to learn to toughen up,” Lady Barb said. “Because, next year, everything will be different.”
“That’s why Master Grey is here,” Emily said. It wasn’t a question. “He was hired to put me through the wringer.”
“Yes,” Lady Barb said, flatly.
Emily stared down at her hands. She wanted to deny it, she wanted to throw Lady Barb’s words back at her, but she knew she could not. The courage that had propelled her into an early confrontation with Alassa, and the Iron Duchess, and so many others had been driven by a concern for others, not herself. Why would anyone show concern for her?
“You need to be pushed into deep waters,” Lady Barb said. She sounded sympathetic, but there was no give in her tone at all. “Sink or swim. Player or pawn.”
“I’m sorry,” Emily said.
“Don’t be sorry,” Lady Barb said. “Fix it.”
Lady Barb cleared her throat. “I expect you to report back to me tomorrow with full details of what passes between you and Caleb,” she added. “If you don’t visit me by midmorning, I will have to speak to the Grandmaster. That will not end well for either of you.”
Trial By Fire (Schooled in Magic Book 7) Page 20
