(The Zero Enigma Book 6) The Family Pride

by Christopher Nuttall

  “You’re Head Boy.” Alana shot me a wink. Her voice was sardonic. “Congratulations. I’m sure you earned it.”

  “And you’re Head Girl,” I pointed out. “I’m sure you earned it too.”

  “Well, quite.” Alana smiled, revealing a set of very white teeth. “I’m sure we both earned it.”

  I yawned, suddenly. “Are we going to spend the rest of the evening lying to each other about what we earned?”

  “Why not?” Alana managed an elaborate shrug. “It’s what all the important people do.”

  Isabella would probably have agreed, I thought. And she would have taken part too.

  Alana rested her hands on her knees. “Let us be brutally honest. We don’t like each other very much. Your family and mine have been enemies for billions upon billions of years.”

  “A gross exaggeration,” I said.

  “Whatever.” Alana shrugged, again. “That said, on one hand, you are betrothed to my sister and so I have to be nice to you. Or at least polite to you. And, on the other hand, we have a shared responsibility. We have to be polite to each other.”

  “I can do that,” I said. Mother had taught me how to cut someone dead without ever stepping outside the bounds of good taste. “And ...”

  Alana held up a single dark hand. “And, as you must be aware, the alliance between our families is uniting others against it. You and I ... will probably be pressured to do something stupid that will be used to harm our families. It is important that we at least pretend to get along.”

  She smiled. A true smile. For a moment, I could truly believe that Cat and Alana were sisters. “All you have to do, if you care about the alliance, is do everything I say.”

  I snorted, dryly. “I have a better idea. You do everything I say.”

  Alana giggled. “Fat chance. But you see the point? In private, we can disagree as much as we like. But in public, we have to pose a united front. No hexing or undermining where the baddies can see us.”

  “Agreed,” I said. She was right, as much as I hated to admit it. We were allies, forced together by circumstances and familial manoeuvring. “In public, we will be the best of friends.”

  “That won’t be easy,” Alana said. “We’re also rivals. You’re taking the Challenge, are you not? So am I.”

  “Ouch,” I said. I could have kicked myself. That had never crossed my mind ... and it should have done. A girl as ambitious as Alana would take the Challenge. Of course she would take the Challenge. No one, not even her father, could have forbidden it. “So, we’re rivals too?”

  “Yeah.” Alana looked pensive, just for a second. “I can’t join your team and you can’t join mine.”

  “I know,” I said. Neither of us could take a subordinate position. We would be team leaders, or nothing. “I trust you’ll excuse me if I don’t wish you good luck?”

  “I don’t need luck,” Alana said. “And I have plans.”

  She leaned back against the sofa. “We can cooperate, as Head Boy and Head Girl. Have you seen your rooms?”

  I shook my head. “I’ve only just arrived.”

  “The rooms are identical,” Alana said. “You have a large bed and a bathroom ... you can use your room for whatever you like, as long as you don’t disturb me. I won’t rat you out if you don’t rat me out. The main room” - she indicated the office with a wave of her hand - “and the private kitchen are shared. Clean up your mess, keep control of your guests and I won’t complain.”

  “Likewise,” I said. Alana had clearly put some thought into sharing a suite. I wished I’d had the foresight to do the same. “If we’re supposed to use this space as an office, we’ll just have to share it.”

  “Quite.” Alana shrugged. “Pick a desk, any desk. I’ve already chosen my room.”

  “Either one,” I said. “Now, if you don’t mind ...”

  Alana held up a hand. “Are you still carrying the sword?”

  I nodded, shortly. “I take it everywhere.”

  “May I see it?” Alana cocked her head. “I won’t touch.”

  Her eyes opened wide as I reached back and drew the blade from the scabbard. It glowed faintly in my hand. I could feel the sword yearning to be used, demanding to be tested ... I’d discovered, over the years, that it could cut through wards as if they weren’t there and guide my hands as I fenced with blademasters. It was too dangerous to use for practice duels, I’d been told. The sword wanted to win.

  “Impressive,” Alana said. She leaned forward. “How do you carry it? Doesn’t it dig into your back?”

  “It’s barely there,” I said. The scabbard was an Object of Power, a present from Cat. I didn’t pretend to understand how it worked. The sword wasn’t just hidden, it was ... practically intangible until I touched the hilt. I could press my back against the chair and feel nothing, thanks to the magic. And yet, I could never quite forget it was there. “Magic.”

  Alana smiled, but it didn’t quite touch her eyes. “Cat’s work?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “She forged it for me.”

  “You’d better get her something very good for her birthday,” Alana said. I thought I caught a hint of regret in her voice. “And not the formalised gift either.”

  I shrugged. Mother had supervised the formal gift-giving, insisting that - as my betrothed - Cat was not to be subjected to my taste in presents. She’d made me give my betrothed a whole string of birthday gifts, ranging from the faintly absurd to the inappropriate. My private gifts had been much more personal, I thought. Cat clearly felt the same way. Her private gifts had actually been useful.

  “I’ll try,” I said. “Has she complained?”

  “No.” Alana smiled. “But I’ll let you know if she does.”

  There was a knock on the door. I stood and opened it. A pair of porters were waiting outside, with our trunks. A familiar face stood behind them. I smiled and stepped to one side to allow them to enter. I hadn’t seen much of Rose over the summer, but she hadn’t changed much. Her long red hair, tied in a neat braid, hung down over a white dress that managed to be both simple and elegant. Cat’s mother had done wonders for Rose’s sense of style.

  “Akin,” Rose said. She glanced at Alana. “And Alana ...”

  “Ah, the chaperone,” Alana said. “Cat’s not here, I’m afraid.”

  Rose blushed. I looked away, in the hope that neither of the girls would see me blushing too. Rose had been our chaperone, but she’d been a very understanding chaperone, always willing to look away at the right times. Not that Cat and I had done very much, of course. A handful of kisses ... it wasn’t really that bad. Was it?

  “It’s good to see you again,” Rose said, as the porters placed the trunks in our room and departed without a word. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I missed you too,” I said, honestly. I liked Rose, if only because she didn’t have a secret agenda. Everyone else I knew had ambitions, even the younger kids. Rose just wanted to be a Healer. And she’d make it, too. Patronage from both our families would see that she had all the opportunities in the world. “What were you doing all summer?”

  “Studying with us,” Alana said. She motioned for Rose to sit next to her. “And learning all sorts of interesting spells.”

  “Lady Aguirre is a good teacher.” Rose sat, as far from Alana as she could while sharing the same sofa. “And she told me all sorts of things.”

  “Including some spells that are normally kept within the family,” Alana said. “I was quite surprised.”

  I wasn’t. Rose was Cat’s best friend, as well as a client of two families. Cat’s mother had excellent reason to teach Rose a handful of spells, even if they were supposed to remain in the family. Rose was practically part of the family. I wondered, idly, what my own mother had taught Rose. I’d seen them chatting together, when Rose had visited the mansion. It was a shame she couldn’t stay with us.

  “They were very interesting spells,” Rose said. She crossed her legs. “I also heard something from Lord Aguirre,
something that ... are you taking the Challenge?”

  “So it seems,” I said, dryly. Rose knew about the Challenge? I was surprised. She’d never struck me as particularly sporty. She certainly hadn’t wasted her time playing netball when she’d been a lowerclassman. “I wasn’t given a choice.”

  “It is very important,” Alana pointed out. “And that is why I will be Wizard Regnant.”

  “Says you,” I said, without heat. “What happens if you lose?”

  “I won’t lose,” Alana said.

  Rose cleared her throat. “I understand you have to form a team,” she said. “Cat ... Cat suggested I should join.”

  I blinked in surprise. Cat had never liked sports either, although - in her case - she couldn’t play properly. She’d be unable to hex the other players - or keep herself from being hexed, right from the start. She could produce Objects of Power to even the odds, but ... I had a feeling they’d be confiscated. There were rules against using Objects and Devices of Power on the playing fields. I’d never seen the point, personally. The players had few qualms about bending the rules in order to win.

  “She did?” I knew I sounded stupid. “I ...”

  “She did,” Rose confirmed. “And I think I could take part ...”

  “You can’t.” Alana was trying to sound regretful, but she wasn’t succeeding. “You can’t take part in the contest.”

  Rose gave her a sharp look. “Why not?”

  I echoed her. “Why not?”

  Alana met my eyes. “Rose is a client of both houses,” she said. “By competing against me, she is taking sides against my house ... mortally offending one of her patrons. And you know what that will do for her reputation.”

  Rose looked from Alana to me and back again. “That’s not true ...”

  “It is,” Alana said. “Akin?”

  I forced myself to think. Father had drummed it into my head, time and time again, that patrons and clients had certain responsibilities to each other. A patron was supposed to assist his client, in exchange for support and obedience. A patron and a client could break up, amiably enough, and no one would think less of either of them, but outright betrayal ... I cursed under my breath, using a word Mother would have slapped me for even knowing, let alone saying in front of two young ladies. Alana was right. Rose couldn’t join my team. She couldn’t join either team. It would be seen as a betrayal.

  Uncle Joaquin might be fine with it, I thought. Rose could certainly ask his permission to play on my team. But even if he said yes, it would destroy her reputation as a reliable client ...

  “It’s true,” I said, slowly. “You can’t join my team. Any team.”

  “Even mine,” Alana said. This time, she actually sounded regretful. “You’ll just have to sit on the sidelines and cheer loudly.”

  “If they let us cheer,” Rose said. “You know there’s no actual description of the Challenge itself? Nothing written down, as far as I can tell.”

  I nodded. “Just a handful of vague hints,” I agreed. “Nothing actually useful.”

  Alana stood. “Perhaps they want us to be ready for anything,” she said. “Or maybe they just want to test our skill at improvising.”

  “Or maybe they just make the rules up as they go along,” I said. I’d played that game as a child, although I’d quickly grown bored of it. “We might get told, an hour before we start, that all of our plans and preparations were worse than useless.”

  “Maybe.” Alana sounded disturbed. “But that doesn’t make sense, does it?”

  “Why not?” Rose grinned. It made her look stunning. “You can’t expect the world to play by the rules, can you? The rules can be rewritten. On the spot, if necessary.”

  “Then there would be no point to the Challenge,” Alana insisted. “How could we prove ourselves as ... well, anything ... if the rules change at will? We might as well get onto the field to play netball, then get told we’re going to play football instead.”

  Francis would be pleased, I thought. He always said netball was a game for girls.

  But I took her point. The Challenge would be pointless if it didn’t map onto the patron-client game we’d be expected to play as adults. It was a test of one’s ability to build a team, to make alliances and work out the best way to make use of one’s teammates ... I felt a flash of regret that Rose couldn’t join me. She might lack family connections - blood connections, at least - but she had a hard core of common sense. Francis and Penny and many others I knew lacked it. Francis was more interested in playing games than preparing himself for the future.

  “We’ll see,” I said. “The Castellan wants to see us tomorrow, doesn’t he?”

  “Yeah,” Alana said. “He’ll tell us what he wants us to know.”

  And leave us to figure out the rest for ourselves, I thought.

  “I’m sorry,” Rose said, looking at me. “I thought it could help ...”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said. I thought, briefly, about writing to Uncle Joaquin anyway, then dismissed the idea. Whatever he said, whatever he did ... it wouldn’t matter. Rose would be blighted anyway. “But thanks for offering.”

  “I’m sorry too,” Alana said.

  “I bet you are,” Rose snapped.

  She stood, smoothing down her dress. “It’s late,” she said. “And we have to be up early tomorrow.”

  “Not that early,” Alana objected. “We’re getting a late breakfast.”

  “And then we have to study,” Rose pointed out. “Our real classes start on Tuesday, remember?”

  “I won’t forget,” I assured her. “And I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Rose left the room, closing the door behind her. I watched her go, then turned to look at Alana. She was looking half-amused, half-apologetic. I wondered, sourly, if she’d really set out to do Rose a favour ... or simply throw sand in my gears. It could easily be both. She’d managed to maintain a level of plausible deniability ... I would have been impressed, if it hadn’t been aimed at me. Uncle Joaquin’s successor was devious, cunning ... she’d pulled off a coup and even I had to thank her for it.

  “Bedtime,” I said, firmly. “See you tomorrow?”

  “Of course,” Alana said. “Take a look around before you go to bed.”

  I peered into the kitchen and smiled. There was a kettle, a stove, a food preserver ... I couldn’t cook anything more complex than scrambled eggs and toast, but I wasn’t much of a cook anyway. A collection of jars held everything from tea leaves and coffee grains to sugar and cereal. I nodded to myself, then picked up my carryall and stepped into my bedroom. It was huge, easily large enough for two or three people. The bed alone was massive.

  And the bathroom could easily have come from home, I thought. I had a bath, as well as a shower and a washbasin. A mirror hung on the wall, charmed to show my reflection from any angle. They’re treating us well ...

  I sobered. The room came with a price, one I had to pay. I was Head Boy - and I had to be a good Head Boy. If I failed, if I screwed up, my family would be shamed. Father would be furious. And how could I blame him?

  Anything for the family, I reminded myself, as I undressed and clambered into bed. It was soft and warm, certainly when compared to my old dorm mattresses.

  Anything at all.

  Chapter Seven

  “So.” Francis sidled up to me as I loaded my plate with bacon and eggs. “Did you have a good night?”

  “It was a comfortable mattress,” I assured him. I knew what he meant, but I wasn’t going to rise to the bait. “And I would have overslept, if I hadn’t set an alarm spell.”

  “You know what I mean,” Francis said. “Did you have fun?”

  “We’re in separate bedrooms,” I said, tiredly. If Alana overheard him, Francis was going to have a miserable year. “And you should know better than to suggest otherwise.”

  Francis snickered. “Just a joke,” he said. He took a plate for himself, then followed me to the table. “You should see the humour in it.” />
  I rubbed my eyes. “I’m sure I could see the humour in turning you into a frog, if I tried. Or an earthworm.”

  “I’m sure you could too,” Francis said. He looked around the room. “I’m sure there are more than a dozen of us, you know?”

  “They’re still in bed,” I hazarded. I’d set my alarm, but others - who normally relied on parents or maids to wake them - might have forgotten. Or perhaps they just didn’t feel like eating. They were going to bitterly regret that, later in the day. “Does it matter?”

  “You never know,” Francis said. “The ones who get up early might be the ones to beat.”