Francis tapped on my door, an hour before the banquet. “Guess what I got?”
“An offer of marriage from Sonia Graceland?” It was mean-spirited, but I couldn’t resist. The poor girl had been on the marriage market for so long that her odds of making a good match were low. I’d heard too many of my relatives gossiping about her. Sonia could pass for forty-three, apparently, with the light behind her. “Or something more serious?”
“I made Sports Captain,” Francis said. He waved a letter under my nose. “Read it and weep!”
“Those poor sporty fools,” I said. “Sports Captain, huh? How many people do you think Uncle Davys bribed to get you that slot?”
Francis coloured. “I earned it myself.”
“Oh, dear,” I said. “They really must be scraping the bottom of the barrel.”
“You know perfectly well I earned it,” Francis snapped. “Besides, who else could they pick?”
I shrugged. Francis might be right. He was captain of two different teams - football and dodgeball - and ... well, I had to admit he’d led both teams to victory. They wouldn’t have tolerated an incompetent in his place, whatever his connections. I could easily see Francis being appointed Sports Captain purely on merit. I just didn’t believe it.
“Good luck,” I said. “Is it true the Sports Captain gets ritually debagged if his team loses?”
Francis snapped his fingers. Sparks darted in all directions. “I’ll make anyone who tries very sorry.”
I slammed my trunk closed, placed a couple of locking charms on the latch and pushed it into place for the manservants to collect, later in the day. Mother might insist on checking - she still talked to me as though I was a little boy, even though I was nearly an adult - but I had no doubt she could unlock and replace the charms for herself, if she wanted. Besides, I hadn’t put anything too personal in the trunk. That was reserved for my carryall.
“Don’t forget to pack your supplies for the Challenge,” Francis said. “You could bring anything you wanted.”
“A guaranteed win would be nice,” I said, dryly. The dinner bell rang, summoning us to the dining hall. “But I don’t know how to pack that.”
I checked my appearance in the mirror, making sure I looked as presentable as possible, then headed to the door. If there was one advantage to the banquet being held at such short notice, it was that I wasn’t expected to don my finest clothes. Only family would see me. I could let my hair down, if only metaphorically. The thought made me snort. If Penny or Cat let their hair down in public, before they were declared adults, it would be a major scandal.
Francis fell into place beside me as we walked down the stairs. “Any thoughts on strategy yet?”
“None.” I sighed. “I don’t even know what we have to do.”
“Win.” Francis elbowed me. “That’s all you have to do.”
I snorted, rudely. Francis was entirely correct, but ... I put the thought aside as we walked into the dining room. It was a very light gathering for a family banquet. Only forty-seven adults and nineteen children, ranging from five to seventeen. I was surprised when Mother pointed to a seat at the adult table, right next to my parents and Uncle Davys. I was being considered an adult? Even discovering that Francis had a chair right next to mine wasn’t enough to dull my delight. I’d been too old for the children’s table for years.
“Penny looks green with envy,” Francis said, in a whisper that was designed to carry. “She’s still trapped with the toddlers.”
Uncle Davys gave him a sharp look that would have quelled me in an instant. Francis puffed up, looking ready to argue with his father in public. I nudged him, quickly. If Francis spoilt the banquet, Mother would be furious. Uncle Davys might have to banish his son from the mansion. Forget treason and betrayal. Ruining a family banquet was unforgivable. My eyes found the empty chair, on the other side of the table; I sighed, feeling a pang of bitter regret. Isabella should be sitting there ... I wondered, grimly, where she was. She wouldn’t have received my letter yet.
Father called the banqueters to order and then made a short speech, praising me for being appointed Head Boy. I did my best to look modest, convinced that everyone in the room knew I hadn’t earned the post. Beside me, Francis waved cheerfully when his name was mentioned. I tried not to roll my eyes. Sports Captain wasn’t a minor position - it wasn’t as if he’d been appointed ink monitor - but it wasn’t a gateway to greater things. Unless ... perhaps Francis could make it a gateway. He certainly had the wit to succeed.
The crowd drank to my health, then started to eat. Mother - perhaps wisely - had ordered that neither Francis nor I were to be offered alcohol, even though we were being treated as adults. I didn’t really blame her. The wine was strong and ... I didn’t want to make a fool of myself in public. My one encounter with alcohol had been enough to convince me that I had no head for wine. Father had promised he’d teach me how to be a wine snob, when I left school, but I wasn’t looking forward to it. I’d sooner talk about forging, if I had to make pointless conversation with strangers. At least I might be able to make intelligent conversation.
Auntie Danni caught my eye as we moved on to the second course. “So, when do you think you’ll be an adult?”
I flushed. I knew what she meant. When would Cat and I be getting married? I looked down at the table, trying not to show my embarrassment. I’d be declared an adult soon, perhaps as soon as I left school. Cat ... I wondered, suddenly, when she’d be declared an adult. It wouldn’t be long for her, either. Both sets of parents were running out of excuses to delay matters.
“I don’t know,” I said. “It depends on my parents.”
I heard the same question, time and time again, as the banquet wore on. I’d known the adults engaged in a lot of pointless chatter, but I’d never really grasped that the pointless chatter could hide conversational attacks and verbal manipulations. I felt naked and unprotected, convinced that whatever I said would wind up being used against me. I honestly didn’t know why my father put up with it. Or why Isabella wanted it. My life would be so much easier if I served an apprenticeship, then set up shop as a forger. A skilled forger - and I knew, without false modesty, that I was a skilled forger - could make a very good living.
It was almost a relief when the banquet finally came to an end. Penny, Francis and I were sent upstairs to shower and change into our travelling clothes, while the adults headed into the smoking room for after-dinner drinks and conversations. Father had told me that a great many decisions were made in smoke-filled rooms, between movers and shakers of both genders; now, I believed it. A banquet wasn’t just an excuse for a good time. Father and his peers would use the banquet as a cover for private chats and deal-making.
I showered, changed, picked up my carryall and knocked on Francis’s door. “You decent?”
“No, but come in anyway,” Francis called. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah.” I pushed open the door and stepped inside. Francis’s rooms were smaller than mine, but not by much. “You?”
“Ready,” Francis said. He snorted. “We could just walk to school, you know.”
I nodded. It wouldn’t be that long a walk, even if night was starting to fall. We wouldn’t be in any danger, but ... tradition was tradition, not to be gainsaid by mere mortals. We were to drive to school in a carriage, wearing travelling clothes rather than school uniforms ... I rolled my eyes. The cloak I wore over my suit felt uncomfortably warm. I muttered a spell to cool myself as Francis led the way downstairs. Our trunks were already in the carriage.
Penny met us at the bottom of the stairs, wearing a long cloak over a dark blue outfit. She didn’t look pleased, but kept whatever was bothering her to herself. I nodded to her and led the way out the door. The carriage was already waiting in the driveway, a pair of manservants standing beside it. They opened the door as we approached, pulling down a tiny staircase to allow Penny to board without damaging her dress. I felt a flicker of sympathy. Her dresses had made it hard
for her to take part in our childhood games.
The carriage rattled into life as soon as we took our seats. I leaned back in my chair, silently willing the other two to remain silent while we drove to school. The others, for a wonder, kept their mouths shut. They probably felt the same mixture of anticipation and fear that I did. The carriage rumbled over the bridge to South Shallot - I wanted to peer down at the boats on the river - and headed onwards. Outside, I heard people shouting and cheering. Shallot was the city that never slept.
“I want to be on the netball team,” Penny said, suddenly. “You can do that for me, can’t you?”
Francis smiled. “What’s it worth?”
Penny coloured. “Francis!”
“Be nice,” I said, reprovingly. As Sports Captain, Francis had the final say on who played in competition matches. “You want the best players on your teams, don’t you?”
“Ah, but is she the best?” Francis smirked. “If she fumbles a ball ...”
I pushed back the curtain and stuck my head out the window as Francis and Penny argued. Jude’s was just coming into view, a cluster of buildings that had long-since been merged into one giant structure. Jude’s had been expanding for years, according to the histories; one day, I thought, it would eventually absorb the whole city. And yet, I knew there were entire sections that had been abandoned, boarded up and eventually allowed to fall into disuse. I’d spent many happy hours exploring them with my friends.
The wards tingled as the carriage passed through the gate and headed up towards the main entrance. The walls were low, but were topped with steel spikes and charmed devices to present a challenge to any student who wanted to sneak out for a night on the town. It was traditional for upperclassmen to make their way through the wards, even students who had the right to come and go as they pleased. Francis had even boasted of giving a porter a black eye. I suspected he was telling the truth. Tradition also dictated that a student who managed to escape the porters was allowed to go free.
“And we’re back,” Francis said. The carriage rattled to a halt. “You know what the students from Roanoke said about Jude’s?”
I didn’t, but I could guess. I’d seen Roanoke - and a couple of other schools - and they’d been magnificent, towering buildings with more grandeur than a Great House. Jude’s, by contrast, looked more than a little ramshackle, as if the school had no real pride in itself. But I wouldn’t have traded Jude’s for anywhere. There was something about the slapdash nature of the building that appealed to me. I wasn’t sure what. A slapdash approach to forgery - or any branch of magic, really - was asking for serious injury or death.
A porter came up to us as we disembarked and looked at Penny. “You are ...?”
“Penelope Rubén,” Penny said. “I’m ...”
“In fifth-year,” the porter said. “Proceed at once to your dorm and remain there until breakfast.”
Penny flushed angrily, but the porter ignored her. “You two are to make your way to the seventh-year suites,” he said, turning to me and Francis. “Your trunks will be sent along in due course.”
“And mine?” Penny didn’t react well to being dismissed. “What about ...?”
“You’re still here?” The porter gave her a sharp look. “One demerit for not following orders and one demerit for being cheeky.”
Penny glared at him, then turned and marched to the entrance. I tried not to laugh. Penny was an upperclassman now, but there was still a strict social hierarchy. She was probably the lowest-ranking student right now, at least until the lowerclassmen arrived tomorrow. And yet ... I shook my head, hoisted my carryall over my shoulder and headed towards the entrance myself. Behind me, I heard the porter barking orders to his staff. They’d move the trunks - Penny’s too - to the dorms before we had a chance to miss them.
“Ah, poor Penny,” Francis said. “I knew her.”
“She isn’t going to be killed,” I pointed out. Two demerits on the first day were bad, but I’d had worse. I was sure Penny had had worse too. “She’ll get over it.”
Jude’s felt ... odd as we made our way up the chairs. The corridors felt empty, even though I could hear faint sounds in the distance. The majority of the upperclassmen had either already arrived or would join us tomorrow, accompanying their siblings amongst the lowerclassmen. I hoped they’d remember to keep their distance once they reached school. Upperclassmen and lowerclassmen didn’t socialise, even if they were siblings. It was social death to be seen with someone significantly younger. Last year, I’d had to pretend I didn’t know Penny when she’d been given detention.
Another porter met us at the top of the stairs. “The Head Boy and Head Girl share the princely suite,” he said, pointing to a gold-edged door at the near end of the corridor. “The Sports Captain gets a room of his own.”
“Hard luck,” Francis said, cheerfully. He leaned closer to whisper. “Do you share the same ...”
“Shut up,” I hissed. I didn’t know if the porter could give demerits to us and I didn’t want to find out the hard way. And I really didn’t want rumours getting around. “You ...”
The porter cleared his throat. “You’re expected to report for breakfast at nine o’clock tomorrow, then attend upon the Castellan in his outer office at eleven.”
“Nine o’clock,” Francis said. “They’re letting us sleep in.”
“Just you wait,” I muttered. Upperclassmen had to set their own alarm spells. “We’ll be getting up at seven the rest of the year.”
The porter shrugged, then motioned for us to walk past him. I felt the wards crackling as I led the way down the corridor, strong enough to make it clear that this was upperclassmen territory, yet too weak to actually keep lowerclassmen out. It made sense, I supposed. The Head Boy’s suite was also his office, his place of work. A lowerclassman might have to visit without an invitation. I wasn’t allowed, I guessed, to bar the outer door.
Francis stopped in front of his door and glanced at me. “See you tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Sure.”
I hurried down the corridor and stopped outside the Head Boy’s suite. A handful of charms rested on top of the wood, ranging from a basic locking charm to a complex spell designed to prevent scrying. I puzzled over it for a moment, then decided there would probably be students who’d want to spy on the Head Boy. They’d get into awful trouble if they were caught - a boy had been expelled for trying to scry the female changing room - but I knew that probably wouldn’t stop them. The students were ambitious. They wouldn’t have come to Jude’s if they weren’t.
The door opened when I pressed my hand against the wood, the charms retreating back into the aether. I pushed the door wide open and surveyed the room. It was strange, an odd mixture of homey and official. Two large wooden desks were placed against the wall, with solid wooden chairs; a pair of sofas had been placed in one corner ... it reminded me of my father’s office. And yet, it was mine. Mine and ...
Alana was sitting on one of the sofas. “Well, hello,” she said. Her voice was very calm. “Come on in.”
Chapter Six
I felt my heart begin to pound. “Hello.”
Alana sat upright, crossing her long legs. “Close the door and come on in,” she said, a deadpan expression on her face. “We have to chat.”
I pushed the door closed behind me, then placed my carryall against the wall. I liked Cat - I missed Cat - but I’d always been wary of her sister. Alana had grown up a lot, in the years since the House War, yet she remained sharp-tongued, devilishly clever and magically powerful, always willing to avenge slights with hexes and even borderline curses. Cat had told me enough about her childhood to ensure that I never wanted to turn my back on her sister. And yet ... now we had to share a suite?
“I suppose we do,” I said. The Head Boy and Girl were exempt from society’s rules about fraternisation, as long as they were careful. I was lucky she was my prospective sister-in-law. “What do we have to talk about?”
I sat do
wn on the sofa and studied her for a long moment. Alana was tall for a girl, with very dark skin and long dark hair bound up in a single loose braid that looked as if it were threatening to come undone at any moment. She was pushing the edges of acceptability, for a girl of her age, but I doubted anyone would say anything. She was her family’s Heir Primus, after all, and I would be very surprised if her hair did come down in public. Alana was more than skilled enough to make sure it remained firmly in place.
She and Cat - and Bella, the third triplet - were fraternal siblings, but ... they didn’t really look alike. Alana’s face was sharper, her eyes were darker ... I thought. They lacked the warmth of Cat’s eyes. And her black dress was just a little too tight, too daring. Cat had never worn anything like it, even when - particularly when - we’d been chaperoned. Alana was definitely pushing the limits as far as they would go. I wondered, absently, what her parents had said about it.
(The Zero Enigma Book 6) The Family Pride Page 6
