The firsties milled about, their eyes getting wider and wider every second. I almost envied their youth and innocence. They’d make their closest friends and greatest rivals at Jude’s ... perhaps even meet their future partners. I allowed my eyes to skim over them, noting which wore tailored uniforms and which had purchased trousers or skirts from the thrift shop. The latter would likely be commoners, commoners who’d either won scholarships or convinced their parents to take out loans to fund their education. It wasn’t a bad bet. A student who completed the first four years of schooling would be in a good place to make an excellent living, even if they never took the final three years or served an apprenticeship. I’d known quite a few “new men” who’d climbed to power, some even winning seats in Magus Court. They deserved every bit of their success.
And I’m supposed to be looking out for talent, I reminded myself. It seemed futile. The firsties were so young - the youngest was probably no older than eleven - it was impossible to tell which of them would be great. I’d just have to watch and wait ... no, Penny would have to watch and wait. I wouldn’t be around long enough to watch the firsties develop. She’ll be the one who picks the next generation of clients.
The sorting finally came to an end. Alana glanced at me, then shrugged. I’d never really liked public speaking, even though Father had made me take rhetoric classes over the summer holidays. Francis had been good at it, of course. He might not be able to put together a complete argument, certainly not a written argument, but he was glib. He could argue with the best of them. It helped, I supposed, that he was popular. People wanted to believe whatever he had to say.
I stepped forward. “Raven Dorm, follow me. Hawk Dorm, follow the Head Girl. Everyone else, remain in the hall until called.”
The Ravens shuffled forward, their eyes downcast. I groaned inwardly, reminded myself that most of them wouldn’t have spent more than a night or two away from home, then commanded them to follow me. They’d been sorted at random, ten total strangers ... all girls. Alana would handle the boys. I cast my eyes over them once again, then beckoned for them to follow. It took several minutes for them to form a proper line.
I tried to see the school as they saw it, as I led them up the stairs. I’d spent years exploring the structure, trying to grasp the underlying logic ... if, indeed, there was any logic. They’d probably get lost, the first time they tried to make their way from the dorms to the breakfast hall. The Magisters would be quite understanding the first few days, then increasingly sarcastic. The poor firsties would have to learn their way around very quickly if they didn’t want to get into trouble. A few nights in detention would convince any sluggards to learn the rules.
They’re so young, I reminded myself. I wondered, suddenly, if this was how my father saw me and my sister. So young, so innocent, so ... I shook my head. I didn’t want to think about it. They’ll learn, in time.
I heard a voice behind me, so weak I could barely make out the words. “Who’s that?”
The girl flushed when I glanced back, cringing as if she expected a blow. I wondered, idly, what sort of horror stories she’d heard from her parents and older siblings. My older relatives had told all sorts of stories, terrifying Isabella and I until Mother had overheard Uncle Remus and pointed out - very sarcastically - that no one would have survived such treatment, with or without magic. If Mother hadn’t made it clear that he was talking nonsense ...
I followed her gaze. She was pointing at a portrait, hanging from a wall. A dark-skinned girl, her lips curved in a mischievous smile that suggested she knew something we didn’t. I could believe it. I knew her story ...
“That’s Caitlyn, the Zero,” another firstie said. “She’s ...”
“It isn’t.” I had to struggle to hide my amusement. “That’s Anna the Artificer.”
I motioned for them to keep walking, leaving the portrait behind. The firstie girl wasn’t that far wrong. Anna the Artificer was one of Cat’s ancestors, a very distant relative. But she hadn’t been a Zero. I didn’t know that much about her - reading between the lines, I was sure she had been a natural-born child - but no one had had any trouble duplicating her work. Cat, on the other hand, was unique. No one else could make Objects of Power.
As far as we know, I reminded myself. Someone could easily have found another Zero and kept their existence to themselves.
We stopped as we reached the entrance to Raven Dorm. “As you enter,” I said, “place your hand against the Raven. The door will recognise you in the future, allowing you to come and go as you please.”
As Penny pleases, I added, silently. Sneaking around may be tradition, but you have to sneak.
The door opened. Penny was standing inside, looking stern. I could practically hear the firsties gulp. Penny looked so strict that I almost quailed. I winced, making a mental note to keep an eye on her. The dorm monitor was supposed to supervise the firsties, true, but she was also supposed to teach them the ways of the school and be the first port of call if they needed help. Penny should have refused the post if she didn’t feel capable of handling it. But then, if she’d refused ... it was pretty certain she’d never be offered another.
I met Penny’s eyes. “Good luck.”
Penny shot me a look that said, very clearly, get out. I made a show of looking around - there didn’t seem to be any real difference between the male and female dorms - and then turned and retreated, leaving the firsties to their fate. They seemed worried as they watched me go, very uncertain of themselves. I didn’t blame them. They were equals now, at least in theory. And they had to learn to get along.
Poor kids, I thought.
I headed back downstairs, collected the second group of girls and led them to their dorms. This group seemed a little livelier, probably because they’d had a chance to chat while waiting. I smiled at some of their jokes, glancing back to see the first friendships being formed. I hoped they’d last, once school settled down. There was no way to avoid dorm room politics, even if you came from the bluest of blue blood. If someone wound up at the bottom, permanently, their life would not be worth living. I’d never really enjoyed the endless struggle for prominence.
But you never really had to play, either, I reminded myself. Your family was so high and mighty that you never had to worry about being on the bottom.
I put the thought aside as I returned, once again, to the Great Hall. There were four groups of female students this time, forty in all. I took the remaining two to their dorms, introduced them briefly to the dorm monitors and then met Alana at the bottom of the stairs. She looked tired, even though it was the middle of the day. I didn’t blame her. The girls had been quiet, but the boys might have been rowdier. They might also have been more inclined to challenge a Head Girl’s authority.
Alana laughed, softly, as she saw me. “Were we ever that young?”
“Of course not,” I lied. “I sprang into being at the tender age of sixteen.”
We shared a brief laugh. I didn’t really miss my days as a lowerclassman, although I missed Cat. We’d had so much fun together, developing our forging skills. No one else came close to either of us, not even Francis or Rose. They’d both need years of additional instruction before they caught up with me. Trying to catch up with Cat was hopeless.
Alana leaned against the wall. “There was one young boy who reminded me of my cousin,” she said. “Can you believe he actually tried to cast a spell on me?”
I couldn’t. “Really?”
“An itching spell.” Alana snickered, rudely. “Quite a nice little cast too. He’s going to be a prankster in future, you mark my words.”
“Oh.” I disliked pranksters. They thought their pranks were funny. Their sycophants generally agreed. Their victims, on the other hand, weren’t laughing. “Did you set him straight?”
“Five hundred lines,” Alana said, with heavy satisfaction. “And detention on the weekend, which I will have to supervise.”
“How uncommonly generous of you,” I
said, dryly. “I’m surprised you didn’t give him something worse.”
“It’s his first day.” Alana shrugged. “And I made it clear that he could expect worse if he went around hexing upperclassmen.”
I nodded. Upperclassmen were not permitted to start a hexing war with lowerclassmen, but they were permitted to finish one. Any lowerclassman who hexed an upperclassman had better be ready for the hexing of his life, followed by lines and detentions. Alana had been remarkably merciful. I wondered if she’d seen something of herself in the little brat. She’d been willing to throw hexes around freely as a firstie too.
“The girls behaved themselves,” I said. “A handful looked unhappy to be at school, away from their parents ...”
“They’ll get over it, if they don’t want their dormmates making fun of them,” Alana commented. “And they’ll see their parents soon enough, at half-term.”
“If they can afford to go home,” I countered. I’d never given it any thought, at least until I’d met Rose. “A poorer student might have to stay at school over the holidays.”
“How unfortunate.” Alana shrugged. “Better to live here than go back to a hovel.”
I opened my mouth to point out that commoners didn’t always live in hovels, then decided it was pointless. Alana knew Rose too. If she hadn’t drawn the right conclusions by now, she probably wouldn’t draw them at all. Instead, I glanced at my watch. It was nearly dinnertime and felt like bedtime. I didn’t have any official duties until the weekend. Perhaps I could get away with skipping dinner and going straight to bed.
The door opened. Francis walked in, looking depressingly cheerful.
“Akin,” he called. He glanced at Alana, then managed a deep bow. “My Lady!”
Alana looked unimpressed. “What do you want?”
“Well, I have a list, if you’re interested.” Francis grinned, broadly. “But I actually came to borrow my cousin.”
“My sympathies,” Alana said, to me. “Good luck.”
“And I was wondering if you’d like to go to town this weekend,” Francis added. “I’ll show you a time you will never forget.”
“I have no doubt of it,” Alana said, her tone leaving no doubt that she didn’t mean it in a good way. “I have detention this weekend.”
Francis opened his eyes, wide. “Detention? What did a girl like you do to deserve detention?”
Alana held up a hand. I saw a hex dancing around her fingertips before she thought better of it. I wasn’t sure who’d win, if they started hexing each other, but it didn’t matter. The Magisters would be unimpressed. Alana and Francis could be stripped of their posts at will, if they misbehaved. They hadn’t even been Head Girl and Sports Captain for a week!
“I can give you lines, you know,” Alana growled. “And I will, if you insist on being stupid.”
She turned and strode off. Francis made rude gestures at her back as she stepped through the door, closing it behind her. I sighed in exasperation. One day, Francis was going to get himself in very real trouble. I had no idea what Uncle Joaquin would say, if Alana had walked out with Francis, but I doubted it would be anything good. Francis was hardly a suitable partner for an Heir Primus.
“That girl has a stick up her ... backside,” Francis said. He gave me a jocular wink. “They’re the best, you know.”
“No,” I said. I didn’t want to hear it. “I have to work with her ...”
“I could do a lot more with her,” Francis said. “And if I were ...”
“Shut up,” I said. I was too tired for banter. “What do you want?”
“I’ve just been addressing the sports teams,” Francis said. “We lost a bunch of players last term. A third graduated, you know. The rest decided that schoolwork was more important, the traitors.”
“How terrible,” I said. “To think that their futures are more important than kicking a ball around a muddy field.”
“I’ll have you know that the field isn’t muddy,” Francis protested. “It’s covered in grass!”
I shrugged, unconcerned. “What do the sports teams have to do with me?”
“Well, no one would expect you to play football,” Francis said. “They might as well expect Blair to play football.”
“How lucky for me,” I said, sarcastically. Blair wasn’t a bad sort, but he was quite alarmingly fat. I didn’t know why he hadn’t brewed or bought himself a slimming potion and drank it. “What do you want with me?”
“Well, it turns out that the Head Boy has to write a note, requesting additional resources for the sports team,” Francis said. “You have to countersign it, at the very least.”
I blinked. “I do?”
“Yeah.” Francis smiled. “You’re not going to say no, are you?”
“You should have asked Alana,” I pointed out. No one would trust my opinion on sporting matters. Did the teams need new equipment? I didn’t know. Nor did I care. “Preferably before you tried to ask her out.”
Francis snorted. “Ah, you know her. She’d refuse to sign anything I put before her.”
“She does have a working brain,” I said. “And she likes sports too.”
“It’s important,” Francis insisted. “I have to have teams lined up before the end of the month or we won’t be able to join the leagues ...”
“How terrible,” I said. “I ...”
“It is terrible,” Francis said. “We’d be laughingstocks.”
“Jude’s is a school of magic, not a school of sports,” I said. “No one judges us by the quality of our sporting teams.”
“Yes, they do.” Francis leaned forward. “Our players cast spells to help them play, remember. The spells they devise often have practical uses. Remember Wilberforce? He got a charms apprenticeship because of the sporting spells he invented.”
That was true, I supposed. It had never really impressed me - one could invent spells without playing sports - but I could see the appeal. And sports did have a greater impact on the school than most people realised. It probably wouldn’t hurt if I played a role, no matter how minor, in procuring supplies for the teams. It might even work to my advantage.
“Give me the list.” I met his eyes. “And be reasonable. They’re not going to shell out a million crowns for sporting equipment.”
“I’m only asking for half a million crowns.” Francis grinned at my shocked face. “I kid, I kid. A hundred thousand crowns.”
“And if they give you a hundred thousand crowns, in cash or credit, I’ll run naked through the school,” I said. Francis would be lucky to get a thousand crowns. “Put forward a reasonable request and I’ll countersign it. Put forward something that makes us both look like utter idiots and I’ll use it for toilet paper.”
“Maybe if I submit two requests,” Francis mused. “One for you and one for Her Mightiness, the Head Girl. The Castellan might not notice ...”
“He would,” I predicted. The Castellan’s secretary, a sour-faced prune who’d been horrible to Cat during her early months at school, was renowned for never missing anything. She’d spot the trick instantly and report it to her superior. “And then the three of us would look like idiots.”
Francis smirked. “We don’t already look like idiots?”
“You’re the one kicking a ball around the field,” I said. “You tell me.”
“Hah,” Francis said. “So ... any thoughts on who we should ask to join us?”
“Not yet,” I said, yawning. I wanted dinner and bed. I’d settle for bed. “But I’m working on it.”
“Better hurry,” Francis advised. “All the good students are already taken.”
Chapter Nine
Francis, I was starting to realise as I followed my peers into Magister Niven’s classroom, had had a point. Indeed, he might have been more correct than he’d realized. There were forty students in my year and nearly all of them were spoken for, one way or the other. Not everyone was taking part in the Challenge - unsurprisingly - but even the ones who weren’t still had conn
ections that make it difficult, if not impossible, for them to take my side. And even asking them was a severe breach of etiquette.
I sat next to Francis and watched as Magister Niven strode to the front of the room. He was dressed in an outfit that had been fashionable hundreds of years ago, but now made him a laughingstock ... or would, if we didn’t know him so well. Magister Niven delighted in forcing us to question assumptions - his first class had been called Questioning Assumptions - and we knew very little about him. I honestly wasn’t even sure if he was male or female. I assumed he was a man, but ... I didn’t know. He wore male clothing one day and female clothing the next. It was impossible to say anything for certain.
Cat loved him. I found him annoying.
Francis nudged me. “He looks like a giant fruit trifle.”
(The Zero Enigma Book 6) The Family Pride Page 9
