The Princess in the Tower (Schooled in Magic Book 15)

by Christopher Nuttall

  Jade slammed his fist into his palm. “Who cares?”

  “Alassa,” Emily said, quietly. “She would care. If we unleash a civil war...”

  “There’s going to be a civil war anyway,” Jade interrupted. “And...”

  “Not like this,” Emily said, quietly. “This one would turn into a nightmare if there were no legitimate heirs left.”

  She considered the possibilities for a long moment. Alassa was the confirmed heir, but she was imprisoned–and female. Her child wasn’t born, let alone confirmed as being in the line of succession. Duke Traduceus was third in line, by blood, but technically he’d been kicked out of the line of succession after he’d been turned into a puppet by his wife. After that...Alicia’s child was a bastard, while the stories about Baroness Harkness’s adopted son were nothing more than stories. But the nobility might find it convenient to believe the stories...

  They put him on the throne, then administer the kingdom to suit themselves, she thought, grimly. They wouldn’t make the same mistakes–the mistakes that had allowed Alexis III to divide and conquer his enemies–twice. As long as they hang together, they won’t hang separately.

  Jade let out a long breath. “Fuck it,” he said. “I...”

  He turned and stalked towards the door. Emily opened her mouth to call him back, then stopped herself as he opened the door and strode through, closing it loudly behind him. She stared at the closed door, unable to believe what had happened. Jade had just...walked out on them?

  “He needs to burn off some steam,” Cat said, quietly. He checked the wards, making sure they were still intact. “Which will be...unfortunate...for any footpads he happens to encounter.”

  Emily glared at him. “And what if he encounters something more dangerous than mere footpads?”

  Cat shrugged. “He’s got enough sense to teleport out, if he runs into real trouble, and send us a message from a safe distance. We do seem to be able to use minor magics without drawing attention from the king’s sorcerers.”

  “It would be better not to take that for granted,” Emily said. She stood and walked to the window. The light was starting to fade. She could see fishermen and dockyard workers heading to the bars after a long day’s work. “Why...why isn’t he listening?”

  “He feels helpless,” Cat said. She heard him walk up behind her. “He loves his wife, his pregnant wife. And she’s in the Tower and he can’t get to her and it’s gnawing away at his mind.”

  Emily glanced at him. “Is there anything we can do about it?”

  “Devise a plan in a hurry,” Cat said, with brutal frankness. “But I can’t think of anything that might work. Can you?”

  “No,” Emily said. “I...”

  Her mind raced. They could use batteries to muster the force to knock down the wards, she thought, yet they’d still have to deal with the guards. She hadn’t noticed if the soldiers who’d challenged them had been wearing antimagic armor or not, but she was pretty sure that at least some of the guards inside the building would have charmed armor. And even if they did manage to raise an army, storming the Tower would be a bloody nightmare. The defenders had so many advantages that they could hold out even if they were outnumbered ten to one.

  And no one could fail to miss the fighting, she thought. Randor would dispatch reinforcements at once.

  “We need to get into the Tower,” she said. It would be a great deal easier to dismantle the wards from the inside. “But how?”

  “Good question,” Cat said. “I suppose we could dress up as women again.”

  Emily snorted, rudely. The guards wouldn’t let just anyone into the Tower, even if they looked harmless. Trained professionals would know better than to believe that someone who didn’t carry a weapon was harmless. Besides, she was fairly sure the Tower’s staff lived in the building. They wouldn’t be allowed to go in and out on a whim.

  She turned away from the window as something nagged at the back of her mind. Something she’d seen, something she’d done...but what? The sheer brutal simplicity of the ward network was a strength, in and of itself; there were no weaknesses, no points that could be used to pry the entire network apart until it collapsed. Even a necromancer would have trouble mustering the power to batter it down. Her fingers played with the snake-bracelet on her wrist. It was quite possible that the wards wouldn’t let a familiar enter the Tower...

  “I don’t know,” she said. Perhaps they should try to make contact with Alicia. Or someone who might be inclined to help. But if the person they contacted went straight to the king...they’d be exposed. “I...what do we do?”

  “About Jade?” Cat shrugged. “He’ll be back, in time. And hopefully he’ll be in a better mood.”

  Emily nodded, slowly. Even if they wanted to search for Jade, they had no idea where he’d gone. She felt a twinge of envy for Alassa, mingled with a hint of bitterness...Jade loved her, completely and totally, but...she hadn’t had a relationship that was so intense. Caleb hadn’t trusted her completely, had he? Maybe it was just her. She hadn’t been too worried about him when she’d been stranded in the past, unsure even if she’d be able to return to her own time. But then, to him, she’d been gone for seconds. He hadn’t even realized she’d been away for months.

  Cat opened a bag and produced a handful of ration bars. “We may as well eat,” he said, passing one to her. “I don’t think he’ll be back in time for us to go eat outside.”

  “Not without a chaperone,” Emily agreed, wryly. “Do you think...do you think this is only the beginning? That Randor will find more and more ways to control lives?”

  “Probably,” Cat said. He seemed to understand what she meant. “A man who feels that he should be in control, and that he is losing control, will fight desperately to regain it. And Randor has been losing control for a long time.”

  “Yeah,” Emily said. “And how much of that is my fault?”

  Cat pointed a finger at her. “Don’t go blaming yourself for anything,” he said, firmly. “There are plenty of other people who will be happy to do that for you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  EMILY WASN’T SURE PRECISELY WHEN SHE’D gone to sleep. She’d chatted with Cat about everything from his family to her future plans for an apprenticeship and Heart’s Eye, but...she wasn’t sure when she’d gone to sleep. Cat hadn’t woken her to take a watch, either. The wards should have kept them safe, but she knew better than to take them for granted. God alone know how many wardcrafters were serving the king.

  Jade was sitting by the wall when she awoke, staring at nothing. Emily tensed, realizing–dully–she had no idea when he’d returned. The wards weren’t smart enough to tell if Jade had been hit with a compulsion spell or otherwise wasn’t in his right mind, although he didn’t look as if he was under an external influence. It wasn’t particularly reassuring. There were plenty of ways to influence–and warp–an unwilling subject without making it obvious.

  “Emily,” Jade said. He looked pensive. “I...I’m sorry.”

  “Think nothing of it,” Emily said, swinging her legs over the side and standing. “What time is it?”

  “Nearly breakfast time,” Jade said. He nodded towards the other bed. “Cat’s still snoring.”

  Emily eyed the hump under the sheets for a long moment. She’d had roommates who snored, in the past, but none of them had sounded quite so loud. Cat was snoring so loudly that she couldn’t help wondering if he were faking it, although she couldn’t imagine why he’d want to bother. Cat was hardly the sort of person to shy away from confrontation. And every other time they’d shared a room, she’d been so tired or distracted that she hadn’t noticed the snores.

  And Caleb didn’t snore, she reminded herself. They hadn’t shared many nights, but she’d grown used to his presence. He was very quiet in bed.

  “I’ve arranged another meeting with Master Abrams and Mouse,” Jade said, once Emily had splashed water on her face. “We’ll be meeting him after breakfast.”

  Em
ily shrugged, using a spell to clean herself. It felt uncomfortable, even though she knew it worked. She wanted a proper bath, or at least a shower, but she doubted she’d be able to find one. The inn probably didn’t even have a metal tub! The bathhouses might still be open–she didn’t think Randor would have closed them down, even though they were good places to share gossip–but most of them didn’t admit women. The ones that did were only open to upper-class women, some of whom might know her by sight.

  “I was wondering about the problem,” Jade said, looking away as she took off her nightgown and pulled on her dress. “We could dig a tunnel under the walls, then blow a hole in them with gunpowder.”

  “Unless they hear us digging,” Emily pointed out. Sergeant Harkin had been fond of telling horror stories of digging–he’d called it mining–and counter-digging, of desperate skirmishes fought underground as one side tried to undermine the castle and the other tried to shore up the defenses. He’d made it sound nightmarish. “And we might not be able to get under the wards.”

  She gritted her teeth as she wrapped her hair in the scarf, careful to make sure that no strands were showing. There was no requirement to keep her hair under wraps, certainly not when she wasn’t married, but it made her look like a modest girl from a traditional family. She didn’t understand how married women could wear scarves all the time, much less children who hadn’t grown into womanhood yet. Her hair itched under the cloth. Maybe they cut their hair short, deliberately. It wasn’t something she wanted to do.

  “We really need to know what the wards will react to,” she said. “Would they notice if we hollowed out a cave and stuffed it full of gunpowder?”

  “They might,” Jade said. “But it depends on the design.”

  “And we need to know if a gunpowder blast will get through the wards,” Emily added, after a moment. Some wards would be completely ineffectual against bullets and blasts, while others would stop them in their tracks. “And we’d have to be careful we didn’t accidentally bring down the entire building.”

  She eyed him for a moment. “Did you sense her, when you went to the Tower?”

  Jade looked surprised, just for a second. “How did you know I went?”

  “I know you,” Emily said. She didn’t want to tell him that it was a predictable thing to do–or that the mere fact he’d returned to the inn was a tacit admission that he’d found no way into the Tower. Jade wouldn’t be deterred, as long as there was even the slightest chance of success. “Did you sense her?”

  “No,” Jade said. His face darkened. “The wards made sure of that, Emily. It was like looking into a blinding light. I don’t think we could hope to scry the defenses.”

  “We’ll think of something,” Emily said, as reassuringly as she could. “And then we’ll get her out of there.”

  Cat rolled over and sat up, looking unsurprised to see Jade. Emily guessed he’d stayed awake, even after she’d gone to bed. He’d probably been more worried than he cared to admit. Most of the men she’d met would sooner have their teeth pulled out by what passed for dentists in the Nameless World–she had a feeling they moonlighted as torturers–than admit weakness to another man. She hoped they weren’t going to argue. She wasn’t in the mood.

  “We need food,” Cat said, standing. “Some food will make us feel a lot better.”

  Emily looked away, feeling her cheeks redden. Cat had slept in his underpants. She tried not to think about the nasty scars, remnants of his training, covering his chest. The tattoos didn’t protect him from everything. She didn’t know why he hadn’t healed himself completely, but she could guess. Men liked a few scars to show they’d been in fights. It was a way of telling other men they were formidable.

  She headed for the door as soon as Cat was ready, careful to check the wards before stepping outside. They didn’t look to have been detected, as far as she could tell, but a very careful magician might not have left any sign he’d noticed them. He’d be more likely to sneak back and send in the army. Her fingers itched, unpleasantly, as she walked through the wards and into the mouldy corridor. Lady Barb had always been scathing when she’d talked about spying magicians. Emily was starting to understand why.

  Outside, the streets were surprisingly quiet. They stuck to the pavements, trying to remain unnoticed as they made their way to a different diner. It was a bigger establishment, with a number of filled tables, but she couldn’t help noticing that the menu was practically identical to the last diner’s menu. There were no fancy restaurants in the docklands. Emily wasn’t sure if it was just conservatism or a grim awareness that most folk who lived near the docks didn’t have the money for even something as simple as pizza or burgers. Or it could be a subtle way of separating themselves from the nobility.

  “I think we may have located a couple of reliable information brokers too,” Jade added, after a moment. “But approaching them will be dangerous.”

  Emily nodded. Lady Barb had given her chapter and verse on information brokers, pointing out they were very much a double-edged sword. On one hand, they were almost always reliable. It was very rare for them to try to mislead a customer. Their reputations were the only thing separating them from gossipmongers. But, on the other hand, if they realized who Jade was–or Emily–they might pass that information on to their other clients. Emily would have been astonished if the Black Daggers weren’t keeping a close eye on the brokers. The king’s counterintelligence agents wouldn’t miss a trick.

  “Then we take extreme care,” she said. “Or we do it through an agent of our own.”

  “There aren’t many we can trust,” Jade said. “Mouse is trustworthy, I suppose, but...she has her limits.”

  Cat lifted his eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

  “I wasn’t gentle,” Jade said. “I used truth spells, Cat; I practically probed her mind until it melted into mush. She’s not concealing anything from us.”

  Emily blanched. “Is she alright?”

  “I think so,” Jade said. “I had to be sure.”

  “Hah,” Emily muttered.

  She felt sick. She knew her friends, she loved her friends...but, every so often, one of them would do something that reminded her they’d been raised on a very different world. Mouse might well have been seriously hurt–or traumatized–by having her mind probed by a magician. Jade should have known better. He would have known better, if Mouse had been a girl of consequence. But no one cared about a lowborn maid.

  The food arrived. She ate fast, eating to cover her silence. She didn’t want to talk to Jade, not now. She understood his feelings, she understood the cruel necessity, but...it still made her feel sick. Mouse had every reason to be angry at the three of them now, binding or no binding. Emily wouldn’t care to bet that the binding would remain firmly in place. A smart person might be able to find a way to evade it.

  “Let’s go,” Jade said, once they’d eaten. “They’re not that far away.”

  Emily followed, trying to keep her churning thoughts under control. She would have to do something to make it up to Mouse, later. Or Jade would have to do something. It was his fault. Mouse had no magic, but that didn’t mean she was useless. Emily could find her a place in Cockatrice, if Alassa didn’t want to promote her into Lady Lye’s post. Mouse was inexperienced, but she was loyal. Or she had been loyal. Mistreatment could drive anyone to the dark side.

  Mouse opened the door when they knocked, looking none the worse for wear. Emily eyed her, worriedly, but saw nothing to indicate that she might be suffering from any mental trauma. She hoped Mouse wouldn’t develop any problems, not when the Nameless World had a taboo about treating mental illness. Mouse was lowborn. She’d be lucky if she was allocated a spot in a madman’s prison. It was far more likely she’d be driven out of the city and left to starve. A poor family couldn’t afford to keep a madwoman in the attic.

  I’ll talk to her later, Emily thought, glowering at Jade’s back. And if we can find something for her, something that will make up for it, we wi
ll.

  “There is one piece of good news,” Master Abrams said. “I managed to get in touch with the Levellers...or what’s left of them.”

  Jade leaned forward. “And...?”

  “They’re skittish, even though I have done work for them in the past,” Master Abrams said, slowly. “Their leader is...apparently...agreeable to a meeting, but they insist it has to be on their terms. They were reluctant to agree to anything until I mentioned you, Lady Emily.”

  Emily swallowed a curse. Master Abrams did know who she was, then. Jade and Alassa didn’t have that many friends who happened to be sorceresses. She had assumed he’d figure it out, sooner or later, but she’d never expected him to use her name in talks with the underground. And yet...it might have been useful. There were people in the underground who respected her, even if they didn’t like or trust Jade. She just wished she’d spent more time getting to know them.

  “Their terms,” Cat repeated. “And what are their terms?”

  “They give us a location, shortly before the meeting itself,” Master Abrams said. “And we go straight there.”

  “It’s a trap,” Cat said, flatly. “A meeting place we have no time to check out, a meeting with someone we don’t even know...it’s a trap.”

  “They’re bound to be nervous too,” Jade pointed out. “We could be luring them into a trap.”

  “That’s what you want to believe,” Cat said. He tapped the table, sharply. “Master Abrams, are you sure you know who you’re talking to?”

  “I have done...work...for them in the past,” Master Abrams said. “I’m sure of my contacts.”

  “But are they sure of who’s above them?” Cat stood and started to pace. “If I was trying to break an organization like the Levellers, I’d put one of my people in a leadership position and let that person escape when the purge started. And then that person can covertly feel out the survivors and line them up for the chop too.”