“Rose,” I prompted.
“But Rose undid the spell,” Bella said. “You don’t know how long it will last.”
“I suppose not,” I mused. I didn't really want to tell Bella everything. I’d proven my theory to my own satisfaction. “Still ...”
“I don’t understand,” Bella added. Her voice turned calculating. “You could have cast the spell yourself.”
I groaned, inwardly. Bella was lazy. She wasn't stupid. She’d seen me cast spells ... or thought she’d seen me cast spells. Why would I need Rose to cast the spells?
“Rose needs the practice,” I said, blandly. “Let’s see what else we can do.”
Rose and Bella obligingly threw spells at each other for the next hour as I tried to figure out a way to measure their power. Freezing someone in place took less power - the original power seemed to last longer - than turning someone into a toad. There was more power involved, I reasoned. The drain had to be a great deal higher without runes or spell geometrics to hold it in place. But the spells still wore off surprisingly quickly.
I glanced at Bella. “When someone turns you into something, and you stay that way until the spell wears off ... do you feel tired?”
“Only once,” Bella said. I knew what she was going to say before she said it. “When that hag turned us into frogs.”
I blanched. Great Aunt Stregheria’s spell hadn’t unravelled. It had merely run out of power.
“I was eating for hours afterwards,” Bella added. “I was so hungry.”
“She’s horrible,” I agreed. She’d known the spell wouldn't last ... she must have known. And yet, she’d left my sisters that way for days. No wonder Dad had been furious. I dreaded to imagine just how long the spell would have lasted if she’d cast it on an adult! “I don’t want to see her again.”
“She’ll probably be back, sooner or later,” Bella predicted, glumly.
I shrugged. “The opals react to magic,” I said. “But they can't tell the difference between different casters.”
“You need to be able to read someone else’s spells,” Bella said. “Dad can do it.”
“Of course.” I smiled. “But I don’t know how to do it.”
The bell rang before Bella could answer. “I’d better get back to the dorm,” she said, picking up her homework. “I’ll see you here tomorrow evening?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll bring my old essays.”
Rose was quiet as we made our way back to the dorm. I glanced at her, then started to think about some of my other ideas. A number of books talked about infusing potion magic into Objects of Power, but - again - the technique had been lost centuries ago. I thought I understood how it had been done, now. Once again, outside magic - active magic - would destabilise the potion and cause an explosion.
And even if there isn't an explosion, I thought, it would render the Object of Power useless.
I found myself considering a handful of ideas. I’d had an uncle who’d had a mental problem, one that had forced him to take a specific potion every week. My mother hadn’t talked about him much. I’d only heard about him from Great Aunt Stregheria, who’d flung his existence in my mother’s face over dinner. Apparently, the side-effects of the potion had eventually addled his mind and killed him. But what if he’d been able to wear something - a bracelet, perhaps - that had all the magic and none of the side-effects? Or ...
“Your sister is nice when she isn't being stuck-up,” Rose said, suddenly. “Does she like you now?”
“I doubt it,” I said. I didn't want to believe otherwise. It would just hurt, all the more, when I found out I was wrong. “She just wants someone to do her homework for her.”
Rose snorted. “Has she tried it before?”
“Back home,” I said. I smiled at the memory. Bella might have gotten away with it if she’d merely copied my work, but she’d taken the sheet with my name at the top. Dad had been laughing too hard to think of a proper punishment. “Dad wasn't fooled.”
“I bet he wasn't,” Rose said. “He struck me as a very smart man.”
I sighed as we walked into the dorm. I loved my father, but growing up in his shadow ... none of us could really live up to him. How could we?
“Caitlyn,” Sandy said. “Come here. I want a word with you.”
I blinked. What had I done?
There was no help for it. I walked over to Sandy’s bed. She was sitting in a comfortable armchair, reading a fifth-year textbook on advanced magical theory. I’d tried looking through one a week or so ago, but I hadn't been able to make heads or tails of it. It would be several years before I was ready to comprehend it, if I lasted that long. Dad might pull me out of school altogether once he learnt what I could do.
“Caitlyn,” Sandy said. She moved her hand in a complicated pattern, setting up a privacy ward. “You are going to fetch food, aren't you?”
I scowled. “Do I have a choice?”
Sandy gave me a sweet smile that didn't fool me for a moment. “It’s important to engage with your dorm mates,” she said. “I understand that you have not had an easy time of it, but ...”
My temper flared. “It strikes me that it must be easier to say those things if you haven't lived it,” I snapped. “I’m an outcast here!”
“You’re developing your magic,” Sandy said. “You’re already well ahead of most of your classmates in theoretical studies.”
I snorted. I could draw out perfect spell diagrams, if I wanted, and plot out enough runes to cast a really complex spell for an encore. That wouldn't stop a ten-year-old from turning me into a frog, if she’d been taught to wield magic. And yet ... my fingers touched the earring, gently. That wasn't true any longer, was it?
“Learning to spend time with people you don’t like is an important part of life,” Sandy told me. I was surprised she didn't give me lines for cheek. “I expect you to cheer loudly whenever someone scores a goal.”
I met her eyes. “Why?”
Sandy opened her mouth, but I spoke over her. “Raven Dorm does not have a netball team,” I said. “The only thing special about this team ...”
“... Is that one of your dorm mates is on the team,” Sandy said. “And you will show support for her.”
I scowled. “Oh I will, will I?”
“Yes, you will,” Sandy said. She crossed her arms under her breasts. “I’m not asking you to like Isabella. Nor am I asking her to like you. But I am asking you to support her, just as I would ask her to support you.”
“We would both be happier,” I said, “if we were on opposite sides of the school.”
“You’ll meet plenty of people you don’t like as you grow older,” Sandy said. “Like I said, dealing with them is an important part of life.”
Dad had said the same thing, I recalled. But had he really spent his schooldays with Carioca Rubén?
Probably, I thought, as I headed for bed. And they still hate each other.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Saturday came too soon.
It wasn't something I’d expected to feel, not really. Rose and I had charged enough stirrers - and gemstones - for me to fake my way through Friday’s lessons, while spending half my time trying to determine who now had access to Lab Thirteen. I had experiments I wanted to try, but I doubted Robin would agree to supervise me a second time. And Saturday morning, spent in the workroom, would have been fun, if I hadn't needed to make a great many magical tools in a hurry. I was surprised, really, that Akin asked no questions. He had to know I was working on my own projects too.
I ate my evening dinner with Rose, feeling like I’d been condemned. Sandy hadn't spoken to me since Thursday night, but Ayesha and Zeya stayed close to us, chatting happily about famous netball players throughout the ages. I found it hard to believe that anyone really cared about netball players, yet it was easier just to let them blather on. At least football players were assured of good careers, if they managed to get into one of the international teams. And they’d be safer, too, tha
n jousters in tournaments. I wanted to sneak off to the library, but I had a feeling it would be futile. Sandy would have no trouble finding me.
“Waste of an evening,” I muttered to Rose, as we trailed Ayesha and Zeya down to the courtyard. “We could be learning new spells.”
Rose shrugged. “It might be fun.”
The netball court was larger than I had expected, based on my mother’s descriptions. A large field, surrounded by powerful wards; a dozen rows of seats, only around a third filled ... it was mainly girls, I noted. There were only a handful of boys, sitting at the back and trying not to be noticed. They didn't seem very interested - one was even reading a book. I guessed they’d come to support their girlfriends.
“Have a seat,” Zeya said, as the players loped into the court. I couldn't help rolling my eyes when I saw them. The shirts and shorts they wore would have been considered indecent anywhere outside the school. “That’s Isabella in the green, just in case you don’t recognise her.”
I rolled my eyes. Isabella might have her long hair tied into a bun, but she was still recognisable. She was easily the youngest player in the court. I found myself torn between admiring her nerve - some of the red players looked tough - and hoping she’d be knocked out of the match. Perhaps, if she fell flat on her face, she’d be kicked out of the greens.
The sports mistress blew a whistle. She looked tougher than anyone else on the field, wearing a white shirt covered in black runes. They would need to be re-stitched regularly, but as long as she was wearing the shirt it would be difficult for anyone to hex her. I found it hard to believe that anyone would have the nerve, yet accidents did happen. Dad had joked about tournaments that had ended with the referee being accidentally turned into something unpleasant.
Rose leaned forward, then winked at me. “Which side are we meant to be cheering for again?”
“The ones in green,” Zeya said.
“The ones in red,” Rose said. “Got you.”
“No, the ones in green,” Zeya said.
“The reds?” I asked. “I thought we were meant to be cheering for the greens.”
“No, the greens,” Zeya insisted.
“You said red,” I said. “We heard you, didn't we?”
“Yep,” Rose agreed. “You want us cheering for the reds.”
Luckily for Zeya’s sanity, the sports mistress blew her whistle again and terminated the discussion. We sat back and watched as the ball was hurled into the court, some of the bigger girls darting forward to snatch it while the smaller girls hung back. The victor spun around and passed the ball to another player, who lost it to a third player. A second later, someone hexed that player in the back, but the ball flew onwards just in time. Isabella caught it and tossed it onwards.
Rose glanced at me. “How does this work?”
I shrugged. I’d never bothered to look up the rules. Zeya, luckily, was happy to explain.
“The aim is to score a goal by getting the ball through the hoops,” she said. One of the players threw the ball, bouncing it off the wards and missing the goal by a bare centimetre or two. “However, none of them can actually hold the ball for longer than ten seconds. Anyone who does gets shocked badly. The moment you have the ball, you either have to shoot for the goal or pass it to another player.”
I glanced at her. “And the hexes?”
“You’re not allowed to turn someone into a frog or anything else that might get squashed,” Zeya said. “Other than that ... anything goes.”
“Ouch,” Rose muttered.
I nodded in agreement. The older students were exchanging hexes at a terrifying rate. Most of them were skilled enough to break spells, even without moving their arms. I saw a dozen students get hexed, free themselves and then get hexed again. Isabella caught the ball and dribbled it down the court, only to be caught by a leg-binding hex and fall flat on her face. I couldn't help feeling a flicker of sympathy for her as her older teammates grabbed the ball and ran on with it, leaving her to free herself. But I had to admit that she was brave enough to pick herself up and keep going.
A loud gong echoed though the room. “Goal,” the sports mistress bellowed. “One-nil!”
Rose was grinning with excitement when the game finally came to an end. I had to admit I had found it exciting too, although I knew I couldn't play. The players had hexed each other so badly that nine girls had lined up in front of the sports mistress, waiting for her to remove the hexes. One of them had somehow wound up with her hand melted into her skull ... I would have laughed, if I hadn't known it was deadly dangerous. She could have been seriously hurt.
And Isabella ...? She was grinning from ear to ear as she waved at us.
“That was fun,” Rose admitted. “Cat?”
I shrugged. “I can't afford to waste all my time on sports,” I said. It was true, but part of me would have loved to be down on the courtyard. Isabella was being congratulated by several of the other players. Students who would normally have disdained to learn a firstie’s name were treating her like a queen. “But maybe we’ll come again.”
“You had your chance to try out,” Zeya said. “You can try again next year.”
Rose smiled. “You could.”
I shook my head. I had a feeling jewellery wasn't allowed in the court. None of the other players had been wearing anything, not even a watch. And without my earrings - and anything else I could design - I would be vulnerable. My sisters had taught me how to dodge hexes, but a single hit would be enough to bring me down. I certainly couldn't break the spell without help.
“You go, if you want,” I said. Would I have to go watch? Probably ... friends did that for friends, didn't they? “I can come watch.”
Her smile widened as Zeya led us down to the court. Isabella was standing there, drinking from a bottle of water and grinning widely. Her face was streaked with sweat. I hoped she was going to take a shower before the feast ... the thought reminded me of what we had to do, after Lights Out.
“Thank you for watching,” she said. For once, she sounded polite. “What did you think?”
“You did very well,” I said. Her eyes opened wide in surprise. “I was expecting you to be booted out in the first five minutes.”
She shrugged. “It’s all a matter of learning to dodge,” she said. Her eyes hardened. “And mastering the spells needed to counter the hexes.”
I groaned, inwardly. It was easy to read the hidden message. She still suspected I couldn't do magic.
“We’ll see you upstairs,” Zeya said. “Come quickly.”
I would have enjoyed the next couple of hours if I hadn't been fretting about sneaking down to the kitchens. Sandy turned a blind eye to us sitting in the middle of the room and playing a modified - and incredibly complicated - version of snakes and ladders. Henrietta had invented the rules, apparently. Midway through, we started arguing over other improvements that could be added to the game. It rapidly started to look far too complex for me.
“Well,” Isabella said, finally. She held out a piece of paper. “Here’s the shopping list. Good luck.”
I glanced at the clock. It was midnight. Everyone should be fast asleep, save for whoever had night duty in the gatehouse. Unless, of course, someone else was planning to raid the kitchens. Perhaps the red team was having its own midnight feast. Or ...
Rose nodded to me. “Let’s go.”
I pocketed the list, then led the way to the door. Isabella waved, cheerfully, as we opened it and peered outside. It was dark, save for a single light at the far end of the corridor. We slipped outside, closing the door behind us, then stopped. I dug into my pouch and produced two pairs of modified spectacles. Night-vision spells were complicated, but I didn't need them to see in the dark. All I needed was a few hours in a workshop.
“It looks odd,” Rose whispered.
I slipped my own spectacles over my nose, then nodded in agreement. The school looked ... fuzzy, as if the corridors were illuminated by an eerie grey light. I had a feeling th
at the protective wards were interfering, very slightly, with the spell. Rose looked weird in the semi-darkness too, her body illuminated by eldritch light. I dug through my pocket and found the other charms, then passed two of them to her. Her form blurred a little more, even though I knew she was there. It wasn't an invisibility cloak - I doubted I could make one of those without a great deal more practice - but it should hide her from a casual glance. Mine did the same, with a couple of minor modifications. Someone would have to be looking for us if they wanted to see us.
Which might happen, if we do something to draw their attention, I thought. We have to be careful.
I gave her a reassuring smile, then pulled my magic sensor out of my pocket and led the way down the corridor. Going the long way around would add some time to our journey, but it would limit the number of places that could be effectively warded. Rose carried her own sensor, checking the side-corridors. There might be something just waiting for us in the shadows.
The Zero Blessing Page 33
