Fists of Justice (Schooled in Magic Book 12)

by Christopher Nuttall

  “I know,” Caleb said.

  Emily sat up and looked down at him. Caleb wasn’t the handsomest man in the world – she admitted that freely, if only to herself – but she would have been suspicious of a handsome man. And yet…

  She shook her head. “I captured a nexus point,” she said. “It’s mine.”

  “I heard,” Caleb said. “Everyone – and I mean everyone – was talking about it before we left school. You locked everyone out.”

  Emily smiled. She’d been there – literally – when Whitehall’s nexus point had been tamed, nearly a thousand years in the past. She was the only living person who knew how it had been done, let alone how to repeat the process. Other nexus points had been tapped for power, of course, but no one had managed to duplicate Whitehall’s spells. Heart’s Eye would remain sealed off until she was ready to return.

  “I own it.” She met his eyes. “And I thought it could become our university.”

  Caleb’s eyes flashed with pain. The university had been his brainchild, not Emily’s. He’d been the one to dream of a day when the various masteries were studied together, once students had completed their regular schooling. They’d talked it over, planned how to raise money and recruit teachers, but without a nexus point…

  They had a nexus point, now. But they also had other obligations.

  “Perhaps I can convince Mother to let us work there,” he said. “There’s no reason to think she’s going to die, is there?”

  Emily shook her head. Sienna was a formidable sorceress. She was powerful enough to cope with almost anything, short of a necromancer or a handful of other sorcerers. And she knew how to extend her life. The chances were good, very good, that Sienna would remain alive for decades to come. There was no reason to think she’d be dead within the next ten years.

  “No,” she said. “But it will complicate matters.”

  “In more ways than one,” Caleb said. “We always knew it was going to be tricky.”

  Emily felt a sudden urge to giggle. Tricky. Yes, they’d known it was going to be very tricky. She’d been a baroness – a baroness with real power – while he’d been the second son of a military hero and a powerful sorcerer. He would have made a decent consort for her, just as Jade had made a decent consort for Alassa, because he couldn’t threaten her power. But he was now – potentially, at least – a major player in the magical community. Their marriage would have all sorts of political implications…

  And I can’t even get away from them, she thought, sourly. King Randor might have exiled her, but he hadn’t stripped her of her title. It would have been politically impossible. Maybe we should just change our names and run.

  It was a silly thought. She had no family to leave behind, but Caleb did. He wouldn’t want to abandon them. His parents might be a little overbearing, and his siblings annoying, but he loved his family. And she wouldn’t ask him to give them up for anything, even for her.

  “We’ll get through it somehow,” she promised. “I just don’t know how.”

  She glanced at her watch, then sat up and peered out the window. The sun was steadily setting. Frieda might turn a blind eye if they were late, but Sienna would not be quite as forgiving. She hurried into the shower, cursing under her breath as she realized it was even worse than she’d thought. The water was cold. She washed anyway, then dried her body with a spell. There was no time to share a shower, not now.

  Back at Whitehall, she told herself, firmly. We can shower together there.

  “Make sure your glamour is in place,” Caleb reminded her, as they dressed. “We don’t want to be seen leaving this place.”

  Emily nodded, casting the spell. She wasn’t used to being recognized. Normally, no one connected her with the Necromancer’s Bane. Everyone knew the Necromancer’s Bane was a towering woman of stunning beauty and terrible power. But Emily was an uncommon name, even after she’d made it famous. Anyone who heard Emily would think of the Necromancer’s Bane.

  Caleb dressed, then cast his own glamour. Emily stared at it for a long moment. She knew the spell was in place, but it was still hard to see his real features under the illusion. No one would notice unless they had a reason to look very closely. Her own glamour would attract even less attention. She wouldn’t be the first young woman to hide some imperfection behind a spell.

  “Very masculine,” she said, dryly. “I think you’ve overdone the muscles.”

  “It should make it harder for people to get in the way,” Caleb said, flexing illusionary muscles. “And even if someone does realize that they’re illusions, they might not look any further.”

  He held out a hand. “Shall we go?”

  Emily took one final look around the room, making sure they hadn’t left anything behind, then followed him down the cramped staircase. The owner hadn’t asked any questions, much to her relief. He’d just told them the rates, and pointed to the stairs. The lobby was deserted as they walked through; they left the key on the desk. Outside, the temple singers chanted loudly, calling the faithful to prayer…

  And yet, she could feel the tension in the air. Something was going to blow. And soon.

  “We’d better hurry,” she said, as more and more people spilled onto the streets. “Frieda will be waiting for us.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “YOU HAVE MAIL,” SIENNA SAID TARTLY, as Emily followed Caleb into the living room. “And two people who came to find you, both of whom left visiting cards.”

  “The secret’s out,” Caleb teased. “They know who you are.”

  Emily winced. So much for remaining un recognized.

  Sienna snorted. “I ordered a third man to leave after he wanted to stay here and wait for you,” she said, passing Emily a small collection of envelopes. “He wouldn’t take no for an answer until after I turned him into a frog and kicked him out the front door. He’ll turn back. Eventually.”

  Emily swallowed as she checked the letters for unpleasant surprises, then glanced at the visiting cards. They were from two men, both completely unknown to her. They’d both invited her to dinner, offering to let her choose the time and place. She passed them to Frieda and then opened the first envelope. Three pages of greetings and salutations – and a great deal of flattery – boiled down to a third dinner invitation. She rolled her eyes at the way the writer sang her praises to the skies, then opened the next envelope. This writer, at least, was more concise. He talked about an investment opportunity she might be interested in, if she cared to visit his office. The name at the bottom belonged to yet another stranger.

  “I’m surprised they weren’t lurking outside the house,” Frieda said, reading the visiting cards. “They clearly want to talk to you.”

  “The sorcerers on the street would have used them for target practice, if they’d stuck around,” Sienna said, briskly. She looked up as her two daughters entered the room. “If you don’t want to keep those letters, drop them into the fire.”

  Emily glanced through the remaining letters, one by one. Three of them were just as flattering as the first, while the others talked about opportunities without going into detail. They reminded her of the proposals she’d read at Cockatrice, although she’d made a point of clearly expecting a reasoned argument when the writers finally got to see her or her representative. She wasn’t going to hand out loans as if money grew on trees.

  “They’re investment opportunities,” she said. She wondered if Vesperian had considered sending a paper letter too. “And none of them are very detailed.”

  “Vesperian merely got his oar in first, then,” Caleb said.

  Karan looked up. “Vesperian?”

  “He tried to talk Emily into giving him a loan,” Caleb said. “It didn’t work.”

  “And a good thing too,” Sienna said, glowering at her daughter. “Vesperian was a schemer before the New Learning, and he’s still a schemer after the New Learning. Nothing has really changed.”

  “It’s a great opportunity,” Karan said, wistfully. “I
could earn money…”

  “No, you couldn’t,” Emily said, sharply. “He’s heading for a fall.”

  Sienna gave her a cold look. “And you know this how…?”

  “He wouldn’t show me the books,” Emily said. “And that means he has something to hide.”

  “Something so big it couldn’t be concealed in the paperwork,” Sienna agreed. She looked approving, just for a second. “Do you have any actual proof?”

  Emily shook her head. “I think he’s overextended himself. He’s buying up material, driving prices up…but he has very little to show for it. Taking the railway to Swanhaven alone might be a step too far.”

  “And the second set of notes are coming due soon.” Sienna shook her head. “I knew he was trouble.”

  Caleb blinked. “You know him?”

  “We’ve met,” Sienna said. Her lips thinned. “His father was a fisherman, a very conservative fellow. Vesperian went into business on his own, building newer and better boats. Some worked, some didn’t; he had an eye for opportunity, but no real sense of just how far he could go. He married well, coming into money; his wife’s dower allowed him to purchase more boats, then design a few newer ones. He was one of the first people to see the potential of the New Learning…I’ll give him that much.”

  She shrugged. “I remember him arguing that the railway line would bring in a colossal profit. The guilds were reluctant, but they couldn’t stop him once he’d secured the first set of investors. The guildmasters were getting a lot of pressure from their lower ranks, too. So he built the first railway, and then started offering to allow anyone to invest in it.”

  “My friends are investors,” Karan said. “They’re proud to invest!”

  “They’ll lose their money,” Emily predicted. “You’ll have the last laugh.”

  She looked at Sienna. “What should I do with these letters?”

  Sienna shrugged, again. “Are you asking a future mother-in-law, or an impartial Mediator?”

  Emily had to smile, despite the pang Sienna’s words caused. “Whichever one is more useful.”

  “They’d both be useful,” Sienna said. “As your mother-in-law, I would advise you to chuck the whole lot on the fire and go wash your hands afterwards. But as an impartial Mediator, I’d tell you to write each of them a polite refusal, whistle for a lad to deliver them, and then chuck them on the fire.”

  “And then go wash your hands,” Marian said.

  “But this could get you a lot of money,” Karan protested. “Should you not hear them out, at least?”

  Emily looked back at the letters. They didn’t improve on second reading. None were specific, none went into details. She assumed they planned to make their pitches in person, when she would find it harder to refuse. But she had to assume they were talking about the railway. If they were investors, they might be interested in selling her their notes before time ran out.

  They must be scenting trouble now, she thought. If the man on the street is aware that something is about to go wrong…

  “You’ll have time to go, if you wish, over the next two days,” Sienna said. She shot Caleb a glance. “Did Caleb tell you what is going to happen?”

  Emily shook her head. “No.”

  Sienna looked irked. “Casper’s coffin has been placed in the Temple of War. It is where all the brave heroes are buried, after their funerals. The funeral itself will be held in two days, during the Fire Festival. There will be a wake and two days of formal mourning after we consign his body to the flames, then we will bid him farewell for the final time.”

  “I understand,” Emily said.

  She tried, hard, to keep her face completely expressionless. Did Sienna know there was no body? Surely she must know that her son had been disintegrated. General Pollack would have told her. And yet…Sienna was treating the coffin as if it held an intact corpse. Emily didn’t want to ask. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  “Caleb will be formally confirmed as Heir after the mourning period is over,” Sienna continued. She sounded as if she was chewing on a lemon. “Once the ceremony is over, the three of you--” she glanced at Frieda “--can return to Whitehall and resume your lessons. I’m sure your teachers expect you to do well.”

  “I’ll be spending most of the summer catching up,” Emily predicted, gloomily.

  “It won’t be the end of the world,” Sienna said. “Having to repeat the entire year would be worse.”

  Emily had to smile, although she was sure that killing a necromancer – a third necromancer – would count as a suitable excuse. It wasn’t as if she’d spent half the year partying in her bedroom, or anything else that might convince the tutors there was no point in allowing her to retake the year. But then, Gordian was the Grandmaster. Perhaps she should be worried after all.

  “I suppose,” she said.

  “Caleb will spend the next two days with me, learning what he needs to know before his formal confirmation.” Sienna’s gaze was suddenly so sharp that Emily knew she knew what Emily and Caleb had been doing. “I trust that Frieda and yourself will have no difficulty staying out of trouble?”

  “I should probably go back to the bank,” Emily said. “And then we can explore the city.”

  She was torn between an odd mixture of relief and regret. She would have loved to spend more time with Caleb, but she also needed time to digest what he’d told her and decide what it meant for their future.

  All of a sudden, she understood Imaiqah very well. She’d never let herself get attached to any of her boyfriends. It had made it easier for her to let go.

  “Very good,” Sienna said.

  General Pollack entered, followed by Croce. “There was a fight down at the docks,” he said, as he undid his cloak and passed it to Karan. “I’m not sure what caused the original explosion, but it was turning into a riot when I left.”

  Sienna sniffed. “Too many drunkards in one place.”

  “No doubt.” General Pollack sat, heavily. “Going to the council was a complete waste of time. They were too busy discussing Justice to talk about a dead necromancer.”

  “Justice has been seen again,” Marian said. “No one died this time, but they saw him…”

  “Drunk,” Sienna snapped. “Or maybe they saw an illusion.”

  “It was no illusion,” Marian insisted. Her eyes were wide with passion. “Mother, they weren’t lying.”

  Sienna looked unimpressed. “Any halfway competent sorcerer could cast a glamour and mingle it with a few hexes to create a godly image,” she said. “And as long as they didn’t get caught, they’d get away with it.”

  “People died,” Marian said. “They were turned to stone!”

  “Which is a common spell,” Sienna said. “You’ll be turning your classmates into stone next year.”

  “I wouldn’t kill them,” Marian protested.

  Sienna gave her youngest daughter a sharp look. “Let’s consider it for a moment,” she said, slowly. “Justice – the god – is prowling the streets, looking for sinners. There’s no shortage of sinners in this city. I don’t let you go down to Fishing Plaice after dark because it is not a safe place for a young girl, magic or no magic. A half-drunk sailor would probably have his way with you whether you wanted it or not.”

  Her gaze hardened. “A city filled with sinners. And yet, only five people are petrified and killed. Five people, three of whom were industrialists; two of whom were connected to industrialists. Why isn’t Justice going after the real bastards?”

  “He is,” Marian insisted.

  “There’s a man in a cell who’s going to be taken to the castle and tossed off the Watchful Rock tomorrow afternoon,” Sienna said. “He kidnapped, raped and murdered seven young girls, the oldest of whom was nine years old. And he was only caught because he made a mistake and drew the guards to him. There were grown men vomiting in horror because of the stories he told, when they poured truth potions down his throat.”

  Her voice grew stronger. “Why di
dn’t Justice kill him?”

  “We caught him,” Marian stammered. Her face was pale. “Didn’t we?”

  “He claimed his first victim two years ago,” Sienna snapped. “And he was only caught last week! If this…god…is a real god, why didn’t he kill him, instead of leaving him alive to kill six more girls? Children! The bastard killed children! Tossing him from the rock is more mercy than the bastard deserves!”

  She turned and stalked into the dining room. “Come. We have dinner to eat before bedtime.”

  Emily glanced at Caleb, then followed the others into the dining room. Marian looked subdued, taking her seat and staring at the empty plate as if she didn’t want to meet her mother’s eyes. Emily didn’t blame her, even though she suspected that Sienna was right. If a real god was stalking the streets, why would he leave a real sinner alone? Or, perhaps, go after more sinners. What counted as a sin? Or…

  She looked up at Sienna. “The victims…were they all connected to Vesperian?”

  Sienna frowned. “They could be,” she said. “A couple of them would definitely have been tapped for supplies. But the younger two victims had barely reached their majorities. They wouldn’t have any direct connection to him.”

  “They might have been investors,” Karan suggested, as she started ladling out the food. “If my friends can buy notes, why not them?”

  “They wouldn’t have been major investors.” Sienna sounded confident. “No parent ever born would allow their child enough ready money to be a major investor.”

  “Maybe Vesperian has hired an assassin,” Caleb speculated. “Perhaps the targets were all investors who wanted their money back.”

  Emily nodded. “If they were owed money, what would happen to it?”

  Sienna frowned. “It would go to their heirs, I assume,” she said. “The notes would be treated as just another piece of property. There might be a clause in the original contracts specifying that repayment only had to be made to the original investor, but I can’t see any competent lawyer allowing that to pass.”