She stepped back and smiled at me. “Akin.”
“Auntie Sofia,” I said. It was hard to tell what she was thinking. “Thank you for inviting me.”
Auntie Sofia’s smile grew wider. “You didn’t come to see me.” She raised her voice. “Cat!”
I blushed as the rear curtain swung open and Cat made her appearance. The sight of her took my breath away. She’d changed into a long green dress - I couldn’t believe she’d been forging and brewing while wearing an expensive gown - that flattered her figure and brought out her eyes. It showed little bare skin, below the neckline, but it didn’t matter. She wore a single glowing amulet around her neck. Her hair hung in a single long braid ...
“Akin,” Cat said. She glanced at her mother, clearly embarrassed. “It’s good to see you again.”
Auntie Sofia laughed. “The three of you can go have dinner,” she said. “Cat, I’ll want you back here at nine.”
“Yes, Mum.” Cat didn’t show any of the petulance I would have expected from Alana - or Isabella. “I’ll be back by nine.”
She touched her amulet. Her face blurred, just for a second. Anyone who didn’t already know who was under the glamour wouldn’t have a hope of recognising her. Cat was probably fairly safe - I was certain she had quite a few surprises concealed within her rings and necklaces - but it was probably for the best. She was the single most interesting target for kidnappers for hundreds of miles. Who knew what sort of threats would come out of the woodwork if she was walking around openly?
I held out a hand. Cat took it. Her skin felt warm against mine. I wanted ... I wanted to take her in my arms and hold her. But I knew better than to show any trace of that in front of Auntie Sofia. Instead, I led Cat back through the door and out into the field. Rose followed us. I couldn’t see her face, but I knew she was smirking. We probably made a funny sight.
“Mum booked a private room for us at the Grand,” Cat said, as we made our way through the crowds. “I’m afraid she insisted on paying for it.”
“I’ll survive.” I grinned, despite myself. It was good to know that Auntie Sofia approved of our relationship. There were plenty of ways she could have signalled her disapproval without ever crossing the line into open rudeness. “What did she tell the manager?”
“I’m Bella, for the evening,” Cat told me. She winked. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Poor Bella,” I said. “Having to put up with me for the evening.”
Cat laughed and squeezed my hand. I smiled back, enjoying her company. Auntie Sofia had thought of everything. No one would bat an eyelid if I took my future sister-in-law out to dinner, particularly if Rose accompanied us; no one would wonder, at least openly, if I’d taken someone else instead. Cat had to find it a little irritating, but I suspected she understood. She’d already been kidnapped once.
“So,” Cat said. We strode into the hotel, where a bowing manager showed us to our room. “I hear you’re taking the Challenge ...?”
I heard the faint surprise in her tone and winced. Cat wasn’t the sort of person who would be impressed by the Challenge. Neither was I, of course. Francis and Alana might enjoy the thought of being crowned Wizard Regnant, but what did it mean? Really? The winner might reap the rewards for many years to come, but ... he wouldn’t get everything. And the losers would have to live with being losers. I wouldn’t have taken the Challenge if I’d been offered a choice.
“It was Father’s idea,” I said. “Did your father tell Alana to take the Challenge?”
“No.” Cat shook her head. “She’s been talking about it for years.”
“She must have been laying the groundwork ever since she became an upperclassman,” I said, ruefully. “Your sister is very smart.”
“She’s the sort of person you appreciate more when she isn’t picking on you.” Cat winced, expressively. “It’s good she’s finally putting her talents to use, but ...”
I nodded as the waiter entered the room, carrying three menus. We ordered quickly, then sat back in our chairs. Cat produced a tiny Object of Power from somewhere within her dress and placed it on the table. It glowed, an eerie light that sent shivers down my spine. I’d seen it before. No one could spy on us, not now. The most powerful scrying spell I’d managed to produce had been unable to see through the bubble. Even a lip-reader would find it impossible.
“She said you’d been having problems,” Cat said. “Do I want to know the details?”
I frowned. “What did she tell you?”
“Very little,” Cat said. “You know Alana. She prefers to keep as much as possible to herself.”
“For future blackmail,” I commented. “I caught Francis kissing a girl.”
Cat opened her eyebrows in mock surprise. “Really?”
I had to laugh. “A betrothed girl,” I clarified. “He could have landed the entire family in hot water.”
“That could have been bad.” Cat sobered. Her dark eyes met mine. “Do you trust him? I mean, really trust him?”
“Francis?” I was surprised by the question. “He’s my cousin.”
“And she-who-will-not-be-remembered was my great aunt,” Cat reminded me. “Just because someone’s family doesn’t mean they’re a good person.”
I felt a twinge of discomfort. It felt wrong to hear outsiders criticising my family ... I told myself, firmly, that Cat was practically family. And yet, it still felt wrong, as if I was being disloyal even listening to it. The family had to hang together, I’d been told time and time again, or we’d all hang separately. Our internal disagreements had to remain private. In public, we had to present a united front. And yet ...
“I know,” I admitted. “Do you know Francis?”
“I only met him once.” Cat lowered her eyes. “It was one of those gatherings ...”
I nodded in silent understanding. The gatherings were intended to let aristocratic children mingle, meeting the kids who would be their friends, allies, rivals and enemies before they reached an age where they could take part in the constant struggle for power. In practice, they often turned into magic contests, where kids showed off their magic by casting spells on each other. I’d never liked them. Cat had hated them, with reason. She couldn’t hope to defend herself.
“He struck me as cruel,” Cat said, softly. “Someone who was always mean to people below him. He reminded me a lot of Alana, to be honest.”
I leaned forward. “Did he do anything to you?”
Cat shook her head. “But he was ... unpleasant to the staff. I think you should be wary of him. Alana’s bright enough to know to pick her battles. I’m not sure Francis is anything like as smart.”
“He’s Sports Captain,” I protested, torn between the urge to defend Francis and a grim understanding that Cat had a point. “He isn’t a complete idiot.”
Cat shrugged. “The only qualification for being Sports Captain is being able to kick a ball into a net without magic,” she said. “It’s a booby prize.”
I had to laugh. I’d had the same thought myself. It was a booby prize ...
The door opened. The waiter entered, pushing a trolley of food. He placed the dishes on the table, poured the wine - it wasn’t alcoholic, I noted - bowed and left, as silently as he’d come. If he noticed the Object of Power, he gave no sign. I clasped my hands, muttered a short prayer to our ancestors and bowed my head. Cat nodded, curtly. I rather suspected she didn’t take the custom too seriously. I didn’t blame her. She’d thought, for the longest time, that her ancestors had abandoned her.
“Try not to die,” Cat said, between bites of chicken. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“I wish I could promise it,” I said, seriously. I quoted a line from an old story. “But it would hurt my pride to be forsworn as well as dead.”
Rose snorted. “Talk about something more cheerful, why don’t you?”
I looked at Cat, then laughed. “Did you read the joint research paper by Magisters Grayson, Von Rupert and Tallyman?”
&nbs
p; “I read it.” There was an odd little edge to Cat’s voice. “What did you make of it?”
“It’s ... interesting,” I told her. “They believe they can actually generate magic. That ... they can infuse magic into Devices of Power - and spellforms in general - on a far greater scale than anything we’d done before. That ...”
I shook my head slowly. I’d worked hard to keep current with magical theory, but I had to admit that parts of the paper were well above my head. Magister Tallyman hadn’t had time to discuss it with me, when I’d asked. And really, I didn’t have time to press either. I was having a very busy year.
“They think that’s how the Ancients crafted their flying cities,” I continued, after a moment. “There are problems with scaling up Devices of Power to levitate a clipper ship, let alone an entire city, but if they manage to create a source of infinite power ... they could do anything.”
“So they believe,” Cat said. “Given infinite power, they could do anything.”
I eyed her, puzzled. “Do you think it’s possible?”
“In theory, you can do anything,” Cat said. “In practice, there are limits. And I wonder ...”
“We still don’t know what happened to the Thousand-Year Empire.” I remembered the Eternal City - the badly misnamed Eternal City - and shuddered. A thousand years had passed since the Fall and the ruined city was still incredibly dangerous to unwary visitors. We’d been lucky to survive long enough to escape. “Perhaps they had a little accident ...”
“Perhaps.” Cat looked down at her hands. “They’re talking about sending more research teams to the Eternal City. They asked me to accompany them.”
I blinked. “The Magisters?”
“And a handful of others,” Cat said. “They want to figure out what actually happened to the city.”
I shuddered, remembering the ruins ... and the sense of warped and twisted magic wafting through the air. I’d never felt anything like it, not even in the experimental laboratories the family had established in the countryside. Something had gone horrendously wrong, something that had affected the entire empire ... I couldn’t imagine it. What sort of accident would shatter the peace of the world, and send all of the flying cities crashing to the ground, without wiping out the entire empire? The devastation seemed to have been oddly limited. It simply didn’t work that way.
Unless we’re missing something, I mused. But what?
I met her eyes. “Are you planning to go?”
“I don’t know.” Cat seemed oddly reluctant. “I’d like to go - and I should be immune to the tainted magic - but ... I have bad memories of the place.”
“No one is going to make you go,” Rose said. “Are they?”
Cat laughed. “Mum and Dad would prefer me to remain in the Workshop,” she said. “Even after ...”
She glanced at me. I found myself blushing. Again. I forced myself to ask a different question. “How is the Workshop?”
“It’s fantastic,” Cat said. “Although ... it’s quite frustrating, sometimes, to realise just how much I don’t know. I’ve been reinventing a great many concepts from scratch.”
I blinked. “Reinventing?”
“The Ancients left quite a few things out of their textbooks,” Cat said. “Things they considered no-brainers, I imagine, but to us ... we have to figure them out before we can proceed. I think a number of designs were supposed to be jointly forged, by two or three people like me ... and, of course, I can’t do them on my own. And then a bunch of really weird stuff turned up. There’s ... something ... that seems to be doing something, but I can’t figure out what.”
She frowned. “It’s actually quite disturbing, to be honest. I keep thinking I should discard it.”
“Perhaps you should,” Rose said. “If it’s bothering you ...”
“I want to know what it is.” Cat chuckled, rather humourlessly. “It’s very weird. I can’t even describe it properly. And all my investigations keep producing wildly absurd results.”
She met my eyes. “Come see it, over the summer. See what you make of it.”
“I will,” I promised. “Are you having fun?”
“It would be nice to have another pair of hands,” Cat admitted. “I’ve been trying to find ways to ... limit ... the damage caused by magic, during the forging, but so far I haven’t been able to devise something reliable. Another Zero, even an untrained Zero, would be very helpful.”
I felt an odd flicker of ... something. If there was another Zero, if he worked closely with Cat ... I felt a twinge of jealously, even though I knew I was being silly. There was no other Zero, male or female. And yet ... I missed being able to work with Cat. I’d envy anyone who had the freedom to spend time with her, experimenting with forging and potions as they delved into the mysteries of the Ancients ...
“It would be,” I said, finally.
Cat shot me a look, as if she knew what I’d been thinking. I wondered, suddenly, what she thought of me staying at school. I was surrounded by girls, all the time ... did she wonder if I’d break my word? Did she ...? It would have been so much easier if she’d stayed at Jude’s, but it would have been pointless. Cat was so much happier, and more effective, in the Workshop.
We chatted for hours as we finished our dinner and put the plates to one side. I told her about Louise and Saline, neither of whom Cat knew very well; she told me about her experiments with Objects and Devices of Power. I had the oddest sense there was something she wasn’t telling me, although I had no idea what it was. If she was afraid to discuss it here, even with an Object of Power protecting us from listening ears, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. A family secret? Or something more fundamental?
The clock chimed, once. “It’s nearly nine.” Rose stood, brushing down her dress. “I think I have to take you home now.”
Cat stood, looking pained. I didn’t blame her. She was seventeen, nearly eighteen, and yet ... she had to be back at nine, a childish time. Isabella - and Francis - would have been horrified if they’d been told they had to be back any earlier than eleven. But then, Cat was uniquely vulnerable. I stood too, feeling a twinge of pity mingled with admiration. Cat had turned her disadvantages into a strength.
“Gosh, this is an interesting painting,” Rose announced. She turned away from us. “The colours, the lights, the colours ...”
Cat and I leaned forward and kissed. Her lips felt warm and soft and right. I felt my heart begin to race as I embraced her, my arms slipping down her back. She kissed me back, her eyes shining ... I wanted to do more, so much more. I understood, more than I cared to admit, why Francis had gone so far with Lindsey. It was easy to forget propriety - and common sense - when a girl was in my arms, her lips touching mine ...
Rose raised her voice. “I’m running out of arty-farty babble,” she said. “And I’m turning ...”
Cat drew back. I let go of her, reluctantly. Rose was only doing her job. Anyone else would have been far less permissive. The thought of being chaperoned by our parents - or our aunties - was horrific. And yet ...
“I’ll see you soon,” Cat whispered. She picked up her Object of Power. “And thank you for coming.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” I told her. I stole a quick kiss. “And thank you too.”
Rose cleared her throat, loudly. “Shall we go?”
I held out my hand. Cat took it. “Sure. Why not?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I’d intended to go straight back to school, as soon as I returned from Riverside, and spend the rest of the half-term training, but Father had other ideas. The moment I reached the mansion, I was plunged into an endless series of social engagements, from polite chats with relatives I barely knew to formal introductions to Shallot’s movers and shakers. Father put me through my paces, testing my knowledge and ruthlessly correcting me whenever I got the wrong answer. He even let me cast a couple of votes when we attended Magus Court.
It was almost a relief to return to school, when the
holiday finally came to an end, and resume my normal life. I’d been terrified that someone would notice the box Isabella had given me, even though I’d slapped enough concealment and obscurification charms on it to hide a small army. Indeed, it was quite possible - I’d remembered, too late - that doing too much to conceal something might alert any watching eyes to the simple fact I had something I thought worth concealing. I had no idea what Father would make of the Object of Power, if he found it. He’d certainly ask a few sharp questions about where I’d found it. And I really didn’t want to tell him the truth.
There had been no time to find Louise and Saline when I returned to school. I’d written to them - and the rest of the team - to inform them that Francis had been reinstated, on probation, but they hadn’t bothered to reply. I wasn’t sure if that was a good sign, or a bad sign, or ... they might simply not have received the letters. Louise and Saline both had families within the city. They could have gone home, rather than remaining in an empty school. I wouldn’t have blamed them if they had.
(The Zero Enigma Book 6) The Family Pride Page 27
