Trial By Fire (Schooled in Magic Book 7)

by Christopher Nuttall

  And he might even be on his way here by now, Emily thought. It would have been nice to talk to him, but she knew he’d be more worried about Alassa than herself. And he should be, she was sure. They were in love. And what will he think about the duel?

  Thinking about it made her feel sick, but she had no choice. She wrote a quick message on the parchment, outlining everything that had happened, concluding by telling him that she was going to the library. Lady Aliya had banned all chat parchments from the library, even though they would probably be helpful; she wouldn’t make an exception for Emily, even though Emily knew Jade would have questions and demands as soon as he read her message and realized the true horror that had been unleashed in Whitehall. Leaving the parchment on the desk, Emily strode from the room and down the corridor. The school felt different, almost unwelcoming. Now that she knew it was there, she could practically feel the demon nesting within the school’s wards.

  They must have warned the remaining students to protect themselves. Emily thought, as she stepped through the door and out into the main corridor. There was no one in sight, not even a tutor on patrol. They might even have started sending them home.

  She pushed the thought aside as she walked through a twisting maze of corridors and upstairs to the library. It was closed, but Lady Aliya had never bothered to remove Emily from the list of student assistants who were granted access at all times. She stepped through the door, cast a light globe into the air and walked over to the small section of books on honor and etiquette. There would be something on the Code Duello there, she was sure. It wasn’t uncommon, she’d learned from her history books, for people in the Allied Lands to settle issues by combat, rather than a formal trial. The gods, it was believed, granted the victory to the true innocent party.

  Which is fucking silly, she thought, bitterly. The victor would be the one who was better trained and more experienced, not the one who just happened to be innocent.

  She found a couple of thin books, took them both and settled down at the nearest desk to skim-read. Unusually for books on etiquette, the first one merely concentrated on the facts; the second one discussed a series of incidents that had been recorded over the ages, ranging from deliberate challenges to ones that had been issued in response to intolerable insults or threats. It was quite possible, Emily read with growing horror, for a challenge to be issued by accident...or for someone to use a challenge as a trick to bury their guilt. An accusation of madness, or necromancy, could be forgotten if the accused killed the accuser.

  And she had issued a challenge, if Master Grey chose to take it that way. And he had.

  She swallowed, feeling a cold lump of despair in her stomach, and read through the fine print, searching for loopholes. There weren’t many. A challenge could be retracted if new evidence surfaced - if the accused swore an oath, perhaps - but that hardly applied to her. A handful of case studies showed the former challenged issuing a challenge of his own, once his innocence had actually been proven. Why not? He’d just been accused of something that would overshadow the rest of his life, despite being innocent. Emily could hardly blame him for wanting a little revenge.

  There didn’t seem to be any other ways to escape the duel - or the stigma of having issued a challenge, then fleeing the consequences. If she fled for her life, Master Grey could claim everything she owned; Cockatrice, Markus’s bank...maybe King Randor would object to him claiming the Barony, but it would no longer be hers. And no one would ever take her seriously again. She would be outcast, isolated from the entire world; hell, she could be killed on sight and her killer would suffer no punishment. It was brutal, it was barbaric...and it was pointed right at her. Master Grey might even be praying for her to flee. He would inherit everything she owned and destroy her reputation without suffering any backlash from killing a student.

  But I killed two necromancers, Emily thought, sourly. They might see him as the brave one, the one who could have evaded the challenge with ease. Not me.

  She blinked tears away, angrily. Master Grey should have ignored what she’d said, or set the terms so he could teach her a lesson, not kill her outright. But in hindsight it was clear that Lady Barb was right. He’d never liked her, he’d never trusted her...and he’d certainly deduced that her reputation was vastly overblown. He’d set out to create a situation where he could kill her without repercussion and he’d succeeded, magnificently. And the hell of it was that he might have a point. Emily had killed two necromancers, figured out the true nature of the Mimics, shattered Mountaintop, rebuked two powerful families and turned the Allied Lands upside down, all in less than four years. To him, she had to seem more like a child of chaos than destiny.

  And she honestly didn’t know what to do.

  She glared down at the slim tome lying open in front of her. Fight the duel...and lose, unless she found a way to win. Or run, leaving a shattered reputation behind. Or...

  There won’t be much room for tricks, she thought. He won’t give me any room to play games.

  She gritted her teeth. The rules for a duel to the death were quite simple. Each of the challengers would enter the arena, carrying only a wand or a staff - she recalled from her first duel that they were allowed to wear clothes, although the book wasn’t specific - and nothing else. Hell, Master Grey could set the rules to exclude both wands and staffs if he felt like it. She couldn’t take a battery into the arena and, even if she did, she wasn’t sure what she could do with it. It would be simple enough to repeat her trick of casting super-powered anti-magic wards, only Master Grey wouldn’t be impressed. He was bigger, stronger and faster than her; she knew that all too well. He’d just march over to her and beat her to death.

  And he has over two decades more experience than me, she thought, in despair. I can’t match him in tossing spells around the room...

  She looked up, sharply, as she heard someone open the door and enter the library. It didn’t sound like Lady Aliya...she peered into the gloom beyond the light globe, letting out a sigh of relief as she recognized Caleb. His face was very pale, but looked relieved the moment he saw Emily. She felt oddly pleased to see him, combined with a primal urge to just duck under the table and hide. Caleb...was a reminder of better times she’d thrown away.

  “Emily,” Caleb said. There was a low urgency to his voice that worried her. “Is it true?”

  Of course the whole school knows, Emily thought, sourly. It was meant to be a secret, after all, so naturally everyone knows.

  “Yeah,” she said, too tired to come up with any clever responses. Not that Caleb would be fooled by anything she might say, after all. The books open in front of her wouldn’t be necessary for anything else. “It’s probably true.”

  Caleb sat down facing her and reached out to take one of her hands. “Emily...he’ll kill you.”

  “Probably,” Emily said. She looked back down at the books, refusing to meet his eyes. “I suppose he told everyone?”

  “The rumor went flying around the school last night,” Caleb said. “I don’t know how it started.”

  “Master Grey probably bragged about it,” Emily said, sourly.

  She puzzled over it for a long moment. It wouldn’t make him look good, if he had, but he might well believe he wasn’t going to come out looking good no matter who won. Maybe he’d had a private chat with Sergeant Miles, after making sure they could be overheard. Or maybe he hadn’t meant to share the news and it had slipped out by accident. He’d need to ask someone to serve as his second. Sergeant Miles? She hoped he’d refused, if he’d been asked. It would have strained his relationship with Lady Barb...

  Brilliant, Emily thought. She couldn’t help feeling guilty. They were happy together.

  “He’ll kill you,” Caleb repeated. “Unless you have a way to beat him...”

  Emily shook her head slowly. Everything she had was either incredibly destructive - there was no way she could convince Master Grey to let her define the arena circle as anything large enough to contain a nuc
lear blast - or useless. She knew a handful of killing spells, thanks to Martial Magic, but Master Grey would not only know them too, he would have used them in combat. Unless...she thought through her list of concepts, the list she hadn’t dared use in Whitehall or Mountaintop. There were some that might catch Master Grey by surprise...

  Assuming I have the time to use them, she thought. She’d seen Master Grey duel, back before they’d gone to the Cairngorms. He’d beaten his opponent quickly and ruthlessly, ending the match with a kill. He won’t give me time to be clever.

  “Then run,” Caleb urged. “I’ll come with you.”

  Emily looked up at him, seeing naked horror and despair all over his face. “What will your parents think of that?”

  “I don’t care,” Caleb said. “I just want you to live.”

  “You’ll be disowned,” Emily said. Anyone who helped an outcast became outcast themselves, she knew. It was written in the books in front of her. An outcast had no friends, no family, if only for fear it might rub off. “Your parents will say you’re no longer their son.”

  “It isn’t like I ever fit in anyway,” Caleb said, softly. “Croce will take my place as the second son and he’ll do my father proud, damn him.”

  Emily squeezed his hand, gently. “I can’t let you do that,” she said. “You’ll be alone...”

  “I’ll be with you,” Caleb said. He blushed, suddenly. “I...”

  Emily blushed too. Did Caleb really understand what he was offering? She’d had to fend for herself from a very early age, while Caleb...had had decent parents, even if he had never quite fit in with them. Being alone, being outcast, might destroy him. But then, he was a skilled magician. It was possible he’d find somewhere reasonably comfortable to live even as an outcast. Emily...wouldn’t have so many options.

  Caleb swallowed. “I have something to confess,” he said. “It’s...it’s important.”

  “Oh,” Emily said, feeling her blood run cold. Had he changed his mind? Or had he kept something hidden from her? Her imagination provided too many possibilities, each worse than the last. “What?”

  “Last summer, I fell in love with you,” Caleb said, hesitantly. He had to be afraid she would run again. “I...I asked my parents for permission to start a Courtship.”

  Emily blinked in surprise. Imaiqah had made her look up the rules in Second Year, after Jade had proposed to her, and a Courtship was serious. Asking a girl out on a date was one thing - students at Whitehall could spend their free time together, if they wished - but a Courtship, which involved the families, was a clear statement of intent. Caleb had told his parents he wanted to marry Emily.

  “That must have been an...an interesting discussion,” she said.

  “It was,” Caleb said. His blush deepened. “They were insistent I aim for a long Courtship, if that was my choice.”

  Emily forced herself to think. Courtship required the happy couple to spend time together, to learn if they were compatible, but it also involved both families. At some point, she suspected, the couple would be pressured into marrying, even if they had discovered they weren’t truly compatible. The families would have invested too much time and pride into the Courtship. And, in this case, Caleb’s father would have faced the prospect of opening negotiations with a Lone Power. She was mildly surprised he hadn’t shot the idea down, right from the start.

  And then she looked up at Caleb as it hit her. “You wanted to court me?”

  “I chickened out,” Caleb confessed. “I should have written to you, formally, or approached you as soon as we were in school. Instead...I was terrified of taking that first step.”

  Emily found it hard to blame him. Boys were...odd...about approaching girls; Jade had said nothing to her until the very last day of term, even though he must have decided to propose to her months before. Imaiqah had dozens of stories; she’d even advised Emily that the simplest way to get a man was to run, but not run very fast. Make them work to catch you, she’d advised. Emily hadn’t been too impressed at the time.

  And Caleb? If he’d chickened out completely, his father would have been less than amused about the whole thing.

  “You made it,” she said, finally. Suddenly, the sketches she’d seen of her in his notebook made a great deal of sense. “You did manage to ask me out.”

  “I wanted it to be more,” Caleb said, hesitatingly. “You were...impressive, right from the start.”

  And then I ran, Emily thought. Caleb must have been very confused. He must have panicked.

  She pushed her embarrassment aside and tried to think. It was hard not to feel flattered and worried at the same time. A Courtship...it would have implications for her future, even if it failed. And at some point Caleb’s father would have to approach Void, who would say...what? Emily had asked him to ignore all the letters he’d received asking for her hand in marriage. What would he say if Emily asked him to open negotiations instead?

  He may not be my father, she thought, but he is my Guardian of record...

  It was an odd thought. She’d never had a father looking out for her interests...and, indeed, she found it somewhat insulting. She was nineteen! It wasn’t as if she’d grown up in a world where she required her father’s permission to marry, or knew her parents would arrange her marriage for her and push her into it, even if she objected. God knew she wasn’t a child of the Nameless World...

  ...But, at the same time, the thought of someone looking out for her was welcome.

  She cleared her throat. “I am not wholly familiar with the rules of Courtship,” she said, truthfully. “How long do we have before our...before our fathers have to talk?”

  Caleb looked relieved. “Normally, two years after...after we start talking,” he said. “I think it would be starting from today, when I told you I was courting you.”

  After you checked your parents weren’t adamantly opposed to the match, Emily thought, ruefully. Given her reputation, she couldn’t help wondering how tempted his parents had been to forbid him to even think about courting her. What would you have done if they’d said no?

  “I don’t know what will happen,” she admitted. “My life might be about to come to an end.”

  “Kill him now,” Caleb urged. “Poison the bastard.”

  Emily stared at him - she had forgotten that Caleb had spent two years at Stronghold, where he’d been taught there was nothing more important than winning - then shook her head.

  “He’ll be watching for tricks,” she said. Master Grey had reminded her, several times, to always check her food and drink before taking even the tiniest bite. He’d even sprinkled a handful of potions on her food to make sure she kept it in mind. “And if he did die ahead of time, everyone would point the finger at me anyway.”

  “Come with me, then,” Caleb said. “Emily...”

  “Not yet,” Emily said. “I have until the end of the school year, after all. Something may happen. The horse may learn to sing.”

  Caleb blinked. “Pardon?”

  “Old story,” Emily said. She recited as much of it as she could from memory, and smiled tiredly. “Something might happen.”

  “I see,” Caleb said. He hesitated, before he leaned across the table to kiss her. “Emily...”

  Emily kissed him back, feeling conflicted. She liked Caleb, but a Courtship? It could trap her as easily as it could trap him. And...

  She jumped and spun around as someone cleared their throat, loudly. Lady Barb was standing behind her.

  “I need to talk to you,” Lady Barb said, curtly. She glanced at Caleb. “You; out.”

  “I’ll see you later,” Caleb said. “Be safe.”

  “Out,” Lady Barb ordered. “Now.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “HE’S TRYING TO COURT ME,” Emily said, as soon as Caleb left the library. “He even asked his parents.”

  “And that might have come to a crashing halt,” Lady Barb said, sharply. She glanced past Emily and looked at the books on the table. “Have you
found any loopholes?”

  “None,” Emily admitted. If Lady Barb hadn’t been able to suggest any, she knew it was unlikely she’d be able to find a loophole for herself. “He seems to have me in check.”

  “He does,” Lady Barb confirmed. “The Grandmaster may find something, but I’m not hopeful.”

  She scowled at Emily, then shrugged. “Be that as it may, I have spoken to Mountaintop’s authorities,” she added. “They have agreed to allow you to visit to check their books.”

  Emily rose, smoothing down her robes. “Thank you,” she said. Maybe she’d find something useful in the ancient tomes. “When do we leave?”

  “Now,” Lady Barb said. “Get changed into something that doesn’t remind everyone of Whitehall, then meet me in the Entrance Hall in thirty minutes. And don’t tell anyone where you’re going, if anyone asks.”

  Emily nodded, hurried back to her room and changed rapidly into her walking trousers and shirt, throwing a cloak over her shoulders. Mountaintop could be bitterly cold and it was better to wear something warm, rather than waste magic warming herself. She picked up a notebook, checked the chat parchment - Jade had apparently decided to head directly to Whitehall, rather than stay away - and walked back down to the Entrance Hall. Lady Barb was already there, wearing a long fur coat over her shirt and trousers. She didn’t look pleased when Emily arrived, even though she was sure she hadn’t taken more than twenty minutes to change her clothes.

  “Come,” she ordered.

  Emily followed her, feeling the wards slowly fading away as they walked over the grass, away from the school. There was no portal linking Whitehall and Mountaintop together; they’d have to teleport, once they were safely away from the wards. Lady Barb kept walking until they were well clear of the wards, then grabbed Emily’s arm. Emily winced, but hastily prepared herself for the jump. Teleporting wasn’t quite as bad as stepping through a portal, not for her, but it was quite bad enough.