(The Zero Enigma Book 6) The Family Pride

by Christopher Nuttall

  I rubbed my forehead. It was still too early. “I don’t want to know,” I said. “You can tell me later.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The next few weeks passed very slowly.

  The team and I worked hard on our plans, brainstorming constantly in a bid to figure out what we might be facing and how best to counter it. Francis and Louise, surprisingly, made a good team as they practiced their spells, while I worked with Saline. She was definitely odd, I decided, although I still had no idea what was actually wrong. There were times when she was as calm and collected - and there - as the rest of us and times when she seemed to be in her own little world, unwilling or unable to return to reality. And she needed to work her way through the concepts practically from scratch before she could cast any new advanced spells.

  Francis, somewhat to my surprise, hadn’t argued when I told him that Penny would not be joining the team. Instead, he’d proposed two others; Tobias and Harvard. Tobias, a sixth-year with a remarkable talent for potions, had been as friendless as Louise before she’d joined us; Harvard, a fifth-year who was an excellent duellist, was thrilled to be taking part in the Challenge. I had to admit he was good. Francis claimed Harvard would make his way to the Duelling Circle one day. It would have been fun, I admitted, if the looming threat hadn’t overshadowed our lives. We would have to take the Challenge soon ...

  ... And we still didn’t know who was spying on us.

  Someone was spying on us, I was sure. The wards were regularly probed, time and time again. Whoever was poking at our defences was good, very good. We’d set some traps, in hopes of catching the intruder by surprise, and a handful of trackers that should have led us right to them, but nothing had worked. I was honestly starting to wonder if someone had enlisted a little adult help. It was against the rules, but - like so many other things - only against the rules if you got caught.

  “Remember to keep moving,” Harvard instructed us, as we mock-duelled through the corridors. “You don’t need to waste energy on shielding yourself if you can keep from being hit in the first place.”

  I nodded, feeling sweat trickle down my back. I’d always been in fairly good shape, for a young man my age, but Harvard and Francis were both stronger and faster than I. It would have been a great deal worse if Father hadn’t drilled me in the fine arts of duelling and fencing. It had seemed pointless, at the time - swords were barbaric, compared to magic - but I was grateful now. In hindsight, Father might have been trying to prepare me for the Challenge for years. But he could have done a far better job.

  “I did keep moving,” Louise protested. “You zapped me anyway.”

  “Then move faster,” Harvard said. “Concentrate on making yourself as small a target as possible - and always throw something back, even if it’s just a little itching hex. It’ll upset him.”

  “And probably annoy him,” Louise said.

  “He’s trying to get you anyway,” Harvard pointed out. I think he was enjoying the chance to lecture an older student. It wasn’t something that happened very often. “How much more annoyed can he get?”

  He shrugged. “A person who is angry is a person who will make a mistake. You just have to be ready to take advantage of it.”

  “Just as you took advantage of Gavin in the last duel,” Francis said. “You made his pants fall down.”

  “And then he tripped as he tried to get to me,” Harvard said. “Someone who isn’t thinking very clearly will make an easy target, if you’re ready. So watch for the mistake when it comes.”

  Louise nodded, then glanced at Saline. “Isn’t anyone going to unhex her?”

  “She’s supposed to unhex herself,” Harvard said. “I told you to leave her alone.”

  I sighed, inwardly. Saline had absolutely no talent for casting motionless spells. It was odd - she should have mastered the art long before she joined the upper classes - but apparently true. A firstie who froze Saline would have Saline at his mercy ... at least until the hex wore off or someone cancelled it in passing. I’d forced myself to practice, time and time again; I’d forced everyone to practice. Saline was the only one who hadn’t made any progress.

  “Well, we can’t just leave her here.” Louise rested her hands on her hips. “We have lunch in a few minutes.”

  “We can always skip lunch,” Harvard pointed out. “And she won’t get any hungrier while she’s frozen.”

  “I can’t skip lunch.” Tobias’s voice was strongly accented. He spoke as little as possible, if only to conceal his origins. No one would ever mistake him for an aristocrat. Guttersnipe had been one of the kindest words hurled at him before he’d learnt to fight back. “And I have the rest of the potions brewing in the lab. They require some care and attention.”

  “It won’t kill them to stand a little longer,” Francis said. “You don’t need to put so much care and attention into them.”

  “But that’s what will make him a great Potions Master one day,” I said. It wouldn’t be hard to get Tobias an apprenticeship, not if his marks were as good as he claimed. I could convince a couple of family brewers to take him on. They’d have to do something about his manners, but that wouldn’t be hard either. I had the feeling that Tobias would want to leave the gutter in the shade. “He’ll leave the rest of us far behind.”

  Tobias eyed me, as if he expected the compliment to be withdrawn - or turned into mockery - within seconds. I gave him my best encouraging look, which probably wasn’t that strong. I’d given him my word that I’d find him a place, if he passed his exams with flying colours, but I’d be surprised if he truly believed me. Promises were cheap in Water Shallot. Keeping them could be expensive.

  I nodded to him, then snapped my fingers at Saline. She crumpled to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Louise glared daggers at Harvard - he’d been the one to hex Saline - and ran forward, helping her friend to her feet. Saline rubbed her arms and legs vigorously. Harvard’s spell hadn’t so much frozen her as locked her muscles in place. She was going to have almighty aches and pains for the rest of the day. I made a mental note to speak to him about it. There was a line between intensive training and naked cruelty.

  “It didn’t work,” Saline said. She tottered on her feet, as if she was going to fall over again. Her face was a picture of helplessness. “I just couldn’t free myself.”

  “You need to work on it,” Harvard said, firmly. “Right now, anyone can sneak up and hex you in the back.”

  “Yeah,” Francis said. “And you also have to keep low too.”

  Louise gave me a sharp look. “Do we really have to go through all this?”

  “Yes.” Surprisingly, it was Tobias who answered. “To the Darkness with the rules. The other teams will stop at nothing to stop us.”

  “And someone has been watching us,” Francis reminded us. “We don’t even know who.”

  “We should be trying to spy on them,” Harvard said. “We know where they’re hiding.”

  “We think we know where they’re hiding,” I countered. “And what do we have to hide?”

  Francis looked disbelieving. “Everything! Our base, our supplies, our tactics ...”

  “There’s nothing here that’s particularly important or unique,” I pointed out.

  “The sword is unique,” Francis said, dryly.

  “And if they watch our practices, what then?” I met his eyes. “Are they going to be afraid of us ... or are they going to wet themselves laughing?”

  “Don’t be so sure.” Harvard studied his hands. “Just knowing that Saline cannot cast motionless spells would be a big advantage, in the wrong hands. Or knowing that Louise is slower on the draw than the rest of us ... yes, someone could take advantage of that. And Francis has a tendency to act without thinking and over-commit himself ...”

  “Go hex yourself,” Francis said, rudely. “I’m still Sports Captain.”

  “Until the end of the year,” Harvard countered. “And you’re not Duelling Champ, remember?”

/>   I winced. Alana was Duelling Champ, at least amongst the final-year students. They wouldn’t let her duel now, not when she might lose to a mere sixth-year ... I wondered, slowly, if Alana, Harvard and the other duellists held private contests of their own. They would never be entered in the official record - no one would ever take formal notice of them - but the duellists themselves would know. I could easily see Alana taking part in underground duels. She wasn’t the sort of person to back down from a challenge.

  Or a Challenge, I reminded myself. I had no doubt her team was functioning as smoothly as ... as an Object of Power. Alana had known she would be taking the Challenge for months, unlike me. She could have organised her team and planned her tactics well before the rest of us knew we were entering. It was technically against the rules, but no one would say anything to her about it. They’d have to prove she did it first.

  I held up a hand before Harvard and Francis could start hexing each other. “We do have a lot to work on,” I said. “But we are making progress, aren’t we?”

  “Yes.” Louise eyed me. “But you have a promise to keep.”

  “I will.” My stomach rumbled, loudly. “I think we’d better go for lunch.”

  Francis nudged me as we cleared the room and reset the wards. “You should take her to the next dance,” he said. “It would give her some practical experience.”

  I shook my head. “People will talk.”

  “They’ll understand if you go as friends,” Francis said. “I’ll bash anyone who says otherwise.”

  “No,” I said. In theory, it was a good idea; in practice, it would open a whole can of scorpions. “I’m betrothed. I can’t take anyone to the dance.”

  “I’m sure Cat will understand,” Francis said. “It isn’t as if you’re married.”

  I gave him a sharp look. “I have a responsibility to uphold the betrothal.”

  “Yeah.” Francis looked back at me, evenly. “But is it also an excuse to avoid your social obligations?”

  I nodded as we walked through the door, closing and warding it behind us. Francis was right. I hated social dances - I hated the pointless chatter, the requirement to dance with every potential partner, the simple fact that everything I did would be fodder for the gossipmongers - and being betrothed did give me an excuse not to attend. I couldn’t attend without Cat and she had as little interest in going as I did. Besides, if she was able to go, everyone would be watching us anyway. They’d draw all sorts of conclusions from the way I held her on the dance floor.

  We rejoined the others and walked back to the upper levels. Francis left us as soon as we passed through the door, claiming he had someone he wanted to see. I guessed he had a girlfriend, someone he wanted to keep quiet about for the moment. Or a boyfriend. I found it hard to believe - Francis had gone through a year when he’d been unable to keep himself from staring at every girl who crossed our path - but it was possible. He had good reason to keep any relationship quiet. People would talk.

  And he’s not betrothed, I reminded myself. I felt an odd twinge of jealously. He can date whoever he likes without causing problems for the family.

  I pushed the thought aside as we entered the dining room and headed towards the upper tables. They were suspiciously empty - I guessed most of the upperclassmen had gone into the city for lunch - and we had no trouble finding good seats. The lower tables were crammed, as usual. I saw Penny instructing her charges on the proper way to eat in good company, her face cold and hard. The firsties appeared to be listening raptly. I hoped it wasn’t because they were scared.

  Louise nudged me. “Were we ever so young?”

  “It’s hard to believe,” I said, as I ladled food onto my plate. “But ... you know, it’s been a long time.”

  “A very long time,” Louise said. “Why do they have to learn better manners?”

  “I suppose it depends.” I considered the answer for a long moment. “Auntie Gladys used to say that manners were a sign of good breeding, that knowing what fork to use was a sign that someone was a gentleman. If you used the pudding spoon to eat soup, or the soup spoon to eat pudding, it was a sign you were no gentleman. And if you used your fingers ... oh, that was a sign you were born in the gutter.”

  “It sounds silly,” Louise said.

  “It is, a little,” I confirmed. “We were never allowed to use our fingers in polite company, even on picnics. We had to eat our sandwiches with knives and forks.”

  Louise giggled.

  “Mother, on the other hand, said that good manners allowed people to get along, even when they disagreed with each other,” I continued. “It was alright to call someone an idiot as long as you did it in a socially acceptable manner. And if you spoke nicely to people, instead of demanding they did whatever you wanted, they’d be happier with you. It’s never easy to tell who’ll bear a lifetime grudge for your bad manners until you find a knife buried in your back.”

  “A real knife?” Louise sounded concerned. “Or ... or what?”

  I glanced from side to side, then leaned closer to her. “Pretend you insult someone, here and now. They show no reaction, but they remember. Years later, you want a favour from them ... and they tell you to go stick your head in a bubbling cauldron. Whatever you’re doing is ruined because you insulted someone, so long ago that you might not even remember what you did.”

  “You make it sound charming,” Louise said. She sounded as if she wanted to panic, her eyes flickering to her knife and fork. “Really.”

  “Father always insisted that we should think of the long term,” I said. “And you never know who’ll wind up on top, with power over you.”

  Louise looked at her hands. “It doesn’t seem fair, somehow.”

  “You never know,” I said. “One day, you might have the power.”

  Francis joined us just as we finished our dinners, grinning from ear to ear. He looked perfectly normal, but someone would notice ... I was sure someone would. And then they’d keep an eye on him until they found out who he was dating. I wondered if I should ask him, before the truth came out. There weren’t many students that Francis could date without having really bad repercussions.

  “Don’t forget to eat something,” I told him. “We’ll be doing more spellcasting after lunch.”

  “I haven’t forgotten,” Francis said. He took a potion vial from his belt, uncorked the lid and drank it, grimacing at the taste. “Judy agreed to take over my duties for the afternoon.”

  Louise coughed. “Judy?”

  “She’ll be Sports Captain next year, unless someone pays out thousands of crowns in bribes,” Francis said. “She’s almost as good as me.”

  “Oh,” Louise said. “Is she as big headed as you?”

  I elbowed her, gently. She flushed, perhaps remembering our conversation.

  “Of course not.” Francis took no offense. “My ego has a gold medal for being big. So does ...”

  “Oh, stop bragging,” I said.

  “I was going to say I also have the silver and the bronze.” Francis winked at me. “That’s how big my ego is.”

  “They couldn’t fit anyone else on the stand,” Harvard said, as he stood. “Shall we go back down?”

  “Yeah.” I stood too, picking up my tray. “Shall we?”

  The school felt quieter as we made our way back downstairs. I wasn’t too surprised. The lowerclassmen would be studying or playing sports, while the upperclassmen would be out of the grounds - and perhaps out of bounds - or training for the Challenge themselves. We saw no one, once we entered the lower levels. I was almost disappointed. It hadn’t taken me that long to start exploring the school when I’d been a lowerclassman, and ...

  I stopped. Something was wrong.

  “Wait,” Francis said, sharply. “What’s missing?”

  “The wards,” I said. “We should have crossed the wardline by now.”

  I lifted my hand, nearly reaching for the sword before I stopped myself. The wardline wouldn’t have stopped us - we were
all keyed into it - but we should have sensed it. And it was gone. I glanced at Francis, then motioned for the girls and Tobias to remain behind as the rest of us scouted forward. The inner wardline was gone, too. So were the trap spells that should have stopped any intruder in their path. And the door was hanging open.

  Francis breathed a word he wasn’t supposed to know as we peered through the door. The room had been devastated. The desks and chairs had been smashed into flinders, the cupboards had been pulled from the walls and thrown to the ground; I cursed out loud, bitterly, as I saw the shattered potions vials. The different brews had mixed together, creating a serious problem ... they’d all have to be neutralised before they exploded or ... or something ...

  I swallowed hard. I knew the rules. I knew that sabotage was perfectly legal. But ... it was still hard to take. They’d wrecked a great deal of work, for what? I silently thanked the Ancients that I’d left most of the completed Devices of Power in the Workroom. They’d probably be untouched.