The Grandmaster gave her a sharp look. “The Princess took pains to make it clear to her parents that Mistress Irene was not responsible for what happened.” He nodded towards the next bed, where Alassa’s blonde tresses dangled down the side of the bed. “Not that I would have held her completely responsible in any case. We had no reason to assume that anyone would be stupid enough to kidnap one of our children.”
Emily finished her water and looked around, hoping to see a jug.
The Grandmaster snapped his fingers and the glass refilled, automatically.
“She has been given a stern warning, but I feel that there is no need to continue,” the Grandmaster added. “I am the Master of Whitehall. My opinion is paramount.”
He looked at her thoughtfully. “The real question is simple. Which of you–Alassa or yourself–was the real target?”
“I don’t know,” Emily said. She hesitated, then asked the question that had been nagging at her since the kidnapping. “Is Malefic a necromancer?”
“Unlikely,” the Grandmaster said. “The sheer level of power within a necromancer’s wards should have alerted any other sorcerer nearby. And then he had to take commissions from stupid people and a necromancer would probably have lost control once or twice while dealing with them. But he is, very definitely, a Dark Wizard.”
His eyes narrowed. “And stupid magicians don’t tend to live very long, but what he did to you was stupid. Unless there was something else involved that we’re not seeing.”
Emily listened as he spoke. He seemed astonishingly verbose, but as he continued it dawned on her that he was trying to reassure her. A Dark Wizard was bad; a necromancer would be far worse.
“Malefic simply had too much at risk for too little gain,” the Grandmaster said. “He had to know that Whitehall would hunt for you, and that he was no match for a combat sorcerer. And then Alassa’s parents would tear the city apart looking for her. The insane plot involved kidnapping the two children who would be sure to provoke a very powerful response, so why even try? What made him think that he could kidnap you and survive?”
“It was too easy to escape,” Emily said, after a moment. “Maybe we weren’t intended to remain kidnapped for long.”
“But that raises other issues,” the Grandmaster pointed out. “Did he want to embarrass the City Fathers, or alarm Alassa’s parents, or even provoke a response from your patron? Or is there something here that we’re not seeing?”
Emily frowned. “Maybe we were a diversion,” she said, carefully. “Did something else happen while we were kidnapped?”
“Interesting thought,” the Grandmaster said. “Nothing happened that we know about, but with necromancers involved we can never know for sure.”
“My head is spinning,” Emily complained. “What’s going to happen now?”
The Grandmaster shrugged. “We’re going to have to take another look at the security precautions for trips outside the wards. I’m afraid that we will have to do something to make it safer, or else restrict the number of children who can go on them.”
He shook his head. “The best thing you can do is learn more magic as quickly as possible. You do have enemies out there, some of whom are insane enough to believe that they can breach these walls–or desperate enough to ignore the odds. People you have never met are arguing for your assassination. I suggest that you study harder. Politics is casting a long shadow over this whole affair.”
The Grandmaster picked up his book, turned to go, and then hesitated. “I have granted you permission to read certain books from the Black Archive,” he said. “It would be most preferable if you never mentioned that to anyone else. The Librarian has the list and will prepare them for you upon request.”
Emily stared after him in puzzlement. What was all that about?
She closed her eyes again and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, only to be awoken by Kyla. The Healer was carrying a pair of potion gourds. She passed one to Alassa and the other one to Emily. Feeling faintly absurd, Emily placed the gourd to her lips and drank the clear liquid inside. She felt it as it washed through her body, flushing out the remains of the magic-draining potion.
Emily felt alive with power. Magic crackled through her body, reminding her of how helpless she’d felt without it. But who knew who might try to kidnap her and force her to drink a potion again?
“You should not use magic just yet,” Kyla reminded them. “It will be a day or two before you can go back to classes properly.”
Alassa stared at Emily, who nodded back. “Thank you,” Alassa said. “What can we do here?”
“I suggest that you stay in bed, read books and eat sweets,” Kyla said. She dropped a box of boiled sweets on Emily’s bed. “You’re both very low on energy right now, so suck these every time you feel hungry or thirsty. If you want to give the librarian a list of books, I’m sure he will send them up for you. I can also give you board games if you feel the urge for something a little more active.”
Emily scowled. The library at Whitehall was far more interesting than any she’d seen back home, but it was also primitive. There was no computer catalogue of books, no automated system that could recommend books on similar subjects, only a librarian who was down in the library, unwilling or unable to come to the infirmary. It struck her, suddenly, that there were books in her bedroom that wouldn’t be returned on time. She had no idea what the penalty was for not returning books before their due date, but she doubted that it would be pleasant. Perhaps she could ask her roommates to return them ... No, that wouldn’t be possible. She’d taken the precaution of hiding them in her cupboard, which had been sealed with a locking charm she’d pulled out of one of the books.
“Stay in bed,” Kyla said, as she left. “I’ll have a proper meal sent up in an hour or so. By then, you should be ready to eat.”
The two girls were now alone in the ward “You saved my life,” Alassa said flatly. Even though she’d obviously also slept, Alassa still seemed too stunned to really think about everything that had happened. “My parents wish to thank you personally.”
Emily flushed. “I saved my own life too. I don’t know which of us was the target.”
“Maybe it was a necromantic plot to capture both of us,” Alassa said. “I don’t know of anyone else who would come up with a plan that required both targets to be together and then expect it to succeed.”
“Maybe,” Emily said. She tried to sit up, felt dizzy and laid back down again. “But if you hadn’t clubbed that bandit halfway to death, we would both still be prisoners.”
“That’s true,” Alassa agreed. Her face twitched into a brilliant smile. “I guess I saved your life too.”
Emily laughed, although she was still wondering just what had really happened. If the attack had been aimed at her ... Was it possible that Void had organized it all? Maybe he’d thought that it would serve as a test, or a harsh lesson for her in life outside Whitehall’s walls. The City Guard could have been primed to rescue them once they’d already completed their escape. And Void might simply have dismissed the sorcerer once he’d done his part of the task...
... Or Shadye might have expected Malefic to do better and not bothered to supervise him too closely ...
She shook her head angrily. “I guess you did,” she agreed, pushing her thoughts aside. “I think you’d better start learning as fast as you can.”
“My father said that to me,” Alassa admitted. Her face fell. “He was not happy to hear about my progress before you came to this school.”
Emily studied her, wondering what that meant. Had her father, the King, wanted his daughter to become a better magician, or a better person? But was a nice person able to keep a firm grip on a throne?
“He said that I should keep studying with you,” Alassa added after a moment. “And he expects me to pass my next Basic Charms exam.”
“I think I’m expected to pass too,” Emily said. She managed to sit up and started poking through the cabinet beside the bed. It hel
d a kingmaker board and something that looked like a Snakes and Ladders game, although it ran in circles rather than squares. “When exactly are we going to be taking the exam?”
“When Professor Lombardi feels that we are ready for it,” Alassa said. Her voice lowered. “I had to confess to my father that I cheated on the previous tests. He was not happy.”
“A king cannot afford to fool himself, or he will be unable to rule,” Emily said. Her parents probably wouldn’t have cared if she had cheated or not; she’d keep moving through the school system anyway. But here ... here, she wanted to succeed. “What did he say about it?”
“He said that if I didn’t pass the next exam with a Child of Destiny helping me, he’d have to start looking for other options,” Alassa said. “What if...what if he puts my mother aside and finds another wife? One who can still give him children?”
Emily blinked in surprise. Every time she thought she was used to how different her new world was to Earth, something else appeared to shock her. “I think you can best preserve yourself against that by working hard and learning as much as you can,” she said. But Mary hadn’t been saved when Henry VIII had wanted a boy-child. And the boy hadn’t lived long enough to make a proper mark on history. “And I will teach you.”
Emily hesitated. “And you had better teach me more about this world,” she added. “I won’t know what to do if I were introduced to your parents.”
“I hate those lessons on courtly etiquette,” Alassa said. She grimaced. “Do you know that the difference between social acceptance and social disgrace can be measured by what pair of knives and forks you use, or where you put your glass after taking a sip of wine? And don’t even think about the princes from other countries–all second sons–who keep bringing you wild animals because they’ve heard you love hunting ...”
She grinned, suddenly. “But you’re a Child of Destiny. They’ll expect you to be a little strange. And then they will hang on your every word like it will change the world.”
Emily rolled her eyes. “I see what you mean,” she said, as the curtain rattled. A moment later, Imaiqah poked her head through and smiled at Emily. “Hey!”
“I was so worried,” Imaiqah said, as she let the curtain fall down behind her. “I thought ... I thought that the worst had happened.”
“I told my parents you helped save my life,” Alassa said, seriously. Both of the other girls stared at her. “I think that they’ll agree that you deserve some reward.”
“Just be friendly,” Emily said. She motioned for Imaiqah to push over a small table, allowing her to start setting up the game board. “You could learn a great deal from each other.”
“Sergeant Harkin said he was going to send you some books,” Imaiqah said as she found a seat. “Something about you not wasting your time in bed.”
“That’s ... good of him,” Emily said. Most of the books on the reading list for Martial Magic assumed that the reader knew something about military affairs. Emily had to confess that some of the information made absolutely no sense to her at all. “What happened when you got back to Whitehall?”
“They said nothing until you got back,” Imaiqah said. She looked over at Alassa. “There were all kinds of rumors.”
“There always are,” Alassa said. She picked up the dice and rolled a three. “Just ignore them. That’s what I do.”
Chapter Thirty
KYLA DIDN’T LET THEM LEAVE THE infirmary for three days, by which time Imaiqah and Alassa had become friends, of a sort. Emily could see the social barriers between them, barriers that magic alone would never be able to break down completely, but at least they were trying. It helped that they both wanted to remain on good terms with Emily, although for different reasons, and that none of Alassa’s cronies had come to visit her. They couldn’t have made their feelings clearer if they’d taken out advertisements in newspapers.
Emily privately considered it a relief that none of the cronies had come to visit, although she kept her thoughts to herself since Alassa was obviously upset. Without them, Alassa would have a chance to be a better person–and besides, Emily didn’t want a gaggle of inbred idiots giggling at them while they tried to recover from their experience. One day, maybe Alassa would want to talk about it, but for the moment she said nothing. At least she’d drawn the right lesson from the experience.
It felt odd to relax after spending so long studying, but she had no choice. Emily spent the time playing games, reading the Sergeant’s collection of books and jotting down ideas for Imaiqah’s father. Lying in bed had given her time to try to work out the basic details for a printing press, ideas that she hoped a skilled craftsman could take and turn into something practical. If it had been possible to produce one back in Earth’s distant past, it should be possible to produce one here. The real trick would be doing it without magic. Emily wasn’t entirely sure how magic interacted with society, but she suspected that it was one of the factors preventing modern technology from developing.
There was also a list of other ideas that might–or might not–prove workable, once she outlined them for anyone interested. She had seriously considered sending a message to Void to ask if they could steal some textbooks from her old world, or perhaps a single copy of The Way Things Work. There were so many things she knew would be useful, but she couldn’t even begin to work out how they went together. Emily suspected that she wouldn’t think of others until Imaiqah’s father–or someone else–gave her a problem to solve, whereupon she would try to see how her old society coped with it. She’d picked up more than she’d thought over the years.
But there are limits, she thought as they walked down the stairs to the dining hall. I couldn’t design them a working computer without using magic.
She was used to people staring at her by now, but as they entered the dining hall almost everyone turned to look at them. God alone knew what rumors they’d heard about the kidnap attempt, or what might have happened if the kidnappers had succeeded in transporting them out of the city. Emily hadn’t seen anything to contradict her suspicion that the kidnappers had captured them and then deliberately allowed them to escape, apart from the fact that the younger bandit had been surprised to see them when he’d tried to stop them leaving. But he might not have expected them to leave so quickly. Or it might have been the sorcerer who’d deliberately dangled a way to escape under their eyes, before he’d killed his companions.
Eyes still followed them as they picked up plates of food and took them to their table to eat. It was a relief to eat something delicious after the infirmary’s food, which was bland and almost completely tasteless, even though they had been warned to be careful on the first day. They would only have two classes, followed by three free periods they could use to study. Alassa had already asked Emily to do more work on Basic Charms, but she had told Alassa that she needed to check books in the library first. The Grandmaster had told her that specific books had been put aside for her to read. At least Kyla had written her an excuse note for the overdue books.
The day passed surprisingly quickly, once she’d dropped back into the flow of regular classes and caught up on what she’d missed. Basic Charms hadn’t seemed to move too far ahead, but Professor Thande informed her that she would have to do some additional work on the weekend. There were potions that she was meant to master that she’d missed while she’d been in the infirmary. Emily bit down the temptation to point out that it hadn’t been her idea to be kidnapped, or to spend three days in bed, knowing that it would do no good. Whitehall seemed to prefer practical work to theory.
It was almost seventeen bells when she finally managed to visit the library.
There was a different librarian on duty when she walked through the door, a tall elegant woman with long brown hair that dangled almost to the floor. “The Grandmaster has authorized you to have access to select books from the Black Archive,” she said, before Emily could say a word. She’d clearly recognized Emily from the dining hall. “Are you familiar with the
reading rooms?”
Emily shook her head.
The new librarian led her to a concealed door within the wards and opened it, revealing a small room with a desk, a chair and nothing else. “The books will be brought to you,” she explained. “You are forbidden to take them out of the room, to copy anything down or invite anyone to join you in the reading room. If you break those rules, the security charms will hold you until the librarians investigate. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” Emily said.
The librarian tapped the wall and it opened to reveal a small pile of books. “Here you are,” she said, and placed the books on the table. “Put the books back in the alcove before you leave the room for any reason. Once you’re finished, let me know and I’ll return them to the Black Archive.”
Emily watched the librarian go, closing the door behind her, then turned her attention to the first book in the pile. Whoever had named it had a sense of humor; they’d called it The Little Black Book. It was small, made from a material that Emily didn’t recognize, but smelled rather like an inkpad from back home. The material used to make the inner pages wasn’t parchment, but something else. Even touching it made Emily feel queasy.
She glanced at the next few books in the pile and frowned. A Compendium of Curses, followed by Dark Magic and Malice, The Naming of Things and The Story of Russell the Bold. The last one seemed out of place until Emily glanced through it, eventually realizing that she was looking at a story–fictional or not–that also seemed to be an instructional manual. And then the final book–Necromantic Nightmares–caught her eye and she shivered. It claimed to be nothing less than a primer on how to become a necromancer.
The book felt evil in her hand as she picked it up, staring down at the neat golden letters on the front cover. Perhaps she was imagining it, but it was very hard to open the book to the first page, almost as if her fingers refused to move properly. Someone–either the original writer or the librarian who had catalogued it–might have charmed the book to make it hard to read. She opened the first page and recoiled as she saw the brownish letters drawn–almost painted–on the strange leathery material. The unknown writer had written the book in blood!
Schooled in Magic Page 29
