(The Zero Enigma Book 6) The Family Pride

by Christopher Nuttall

  “Got it,” Alana said. “On three ... one, two, three!”

  Our minds plunged into the Device of Power, into the wards running through the castle. They were weird, designed to torment people who entered the castle rather than simply keep them out. A chill ran down my spine as I realised just how old the castle had to be ... the original lords and masters of the Post-Fall world had granted themselves total control over their mansions, with the right to do whatever they liked to anyone who entered, but that had fallen out of fashion long ago. I saw why, now. A person with such tight control of the wards could do anything, from peep into a maid’s bedroom to ensure that nothing happened without his permission. It wouldn’t do anything for mutual trust and respect ...

  My mind expanded further. I could see the constructs now, closing in on us ... and the other teams. Ayesha and Zeya McDonald were still going, but they were trapped; I felt a flicker of sadistic glee as I reached through the wards, freezing them in place. Hamish Bolingbroke was already petrified, yet the rest of his team were still going. I froze them too, effortlessly, before turning my attention to the constructs. It was easy to stop them in their tracks.

  I heard Louise scream. My mind jerked out of the wards before I could stop myself. A construct had caught her, an instant before I stopped them. Louise’s face was caught in timeless agony ... I shuddered, then turned to face Alana. She was holding her hand up, ready to cast a spell. I braced myself, ready to counter her spell. I doubted she’d give me time to grab the sword.

  “Wait.” I held up a hand. “Can we talk first?”

  Alana stared at me, as if I’d started speaking in tongues. “What?”

  “We can combine into a single team,” I said, hastily. Never mind there were only two of us left, as far as I knew. “We can share the victory.”

  “We can’t share the title,” Alana pointed out. But she wasn’t trying to hex me. I suspected she wasn’t sure of victory, if we started fighting. She was tired ... I was tired too, but I had the sword. If I grabbed it before she could stop me, I would win. “Or do you think otherwise ...?”

  “If we’re both on the same team, as co-leaders, we would share the prize,” I said. I had the feeling we’d misunderstood the Challenge, right from the start. “Right?”

  “Right,” Alana said, slowly. She touched her armband. “Green, perhaps?”

  “Why not?” I changed my colour. She changed hers. “It’s over.”

  I raised my voice. “It’s over!”

  Someone clapped, behind me. “Really?”

  I jumped, spinning around. The Castellan stood there, looking bored. I couldn’t understand how he’d reached us so quickly. Had he been there all along? Or ... had he just been sitting on the battlements, watching and waiting for a single team to emerge victorious? He and his staff had designed the wards. He wouldn’t have any trouble hiding within them if he wanted to conceal his presence.

  “Yes, really.” I met his eyes. “The Challenge is over. And we’ve won.”

  “Not quite.” The Castellan looked back at me, evenly. “Convince me.”

  “We’re on the same team now,” Alana said. “We can’t fight now.”

  The Castellan lifted an eyebrow. “Really? I seem to recall that Francis was on your team, Akin.”

  “I know.” I felt my cheeks heat. “But we’ve won.”

  “Maybe.” The Castellan studied me, thoughtfully. “Convince me. Please.”

  I took a moment to marshal my thoughts. “Francis was right. On the surface, the Challenge was a little disappointing. Capture a castle. Eliminate the other teams. He said it was just another version of Capture the Flag and he was right. There’s nothing special about it. It certainly isn’t a mirror of House Politics.”

  The Castellan didn’t sound offended. “Indeed?”

  “But that wasn’t the Challenge, was it?” I leaned forward. “The real Challenge was to put together a team, to learn how to work together to compete. And we did it. We both put together teams, we survived ... fractures ... within the teams and, when the crunch came, we worked together against an overwhelming outside threat. That’s the mirror of House Politics, isn’t it? We had to learn to work together, not fight it out.”

  And Francis misunderstood completely, I thought. I knew, now, that he wouldn’t have been able to win. His treachery alone would have been enough to disqualify him. He didn’t really know what he was doing.

  The Castellan smiled. “Congratulations, Akin. You win.”

  I blinked. “Sir ... Alana and I won.”

  “But it was you who put the pieces together.” The Castellan nodded to himself. “It was you who worked out the true nature of the contest. And it is that, Akin, which makes you Wizard Regnant.”

  “We should share it,” I protested. I didn’t dare look at Alana. “I would have failed if she hadn’t worked with me. She made the choice to claim victory jointly ...”

  “That wasn’t your choice to make,” the Castellan said. “Do you understand what you are throwing away? If I told you that only one of you could be Wizard Regnant, would you give it to her?”

  If, I thought. I looked down at my hands. Father would be furious, beyond words, if I simply gave up the title. I’d worked hard for it. But ... I didn’t want it to come at such a price. I wasn’t Francis. I wasn’t going to betray my future sister-in-law for a title I didn’t really want. Besides ... who knew? When the rubble settles, maybe no one will care who won the contest.

  “We can share the title,” I said. “I won’t take it for myself.”

  “Nor will I.” Alana crossed her arms under her breasts. “If we can’t share, then ... forget it.”

  I blinked in surprise. Really?

  The Castellan looked from me to her and back again before cracking a smile. “Very well,” he said. “Hail, Akin Rubén. Hail, Alana Aguirre. Wizards Regnant, from now until the end of time.”

  Or until someone wins the next Challenge, I thought.

  Alana had a different concern. “What about the others?”

  “They will be freed.” The Castellan gave her a half-smile. “You two will, of course, have to explain what happened. They won’t have been aware of anything, since they were frozen ...”

  His eyes met mine. “I’m sorry about your cousin,” he said. “Even after ...”

  I nodded, too tired to feel much of anything. I’d come to terms with Francis’s death later, after I’d tied up the loose ends. “Sir, I need to go back to the mansion. Please ... can you let me go ahead of the news?”

  “As you wish.” The Castellan nodded. He didn’t ask what I intended to do, for which I was grateful. Perhaps he assumed I wanted to tell Uncle Davys myself. Or perhaps give my father the good news. “And what about Harvard?”

  “Give him medical attention, then ... leave him.” I shook my head. I didn’t have time to worry about Harvard, not now. “I’ll speak to him later.”

  Alana grinned as the Castellan hurried away. “You’re giving Harvard a chance to run.”

  “That would solve a number of problems,” I said, as I turned towards the stairwell. If Harvard fled ... I wouldn’t have to worry about him later. He could cross the border into Garstang and ... well, who cared? He wouldn’t be bothering me any longer. “Will you deal with the team? Both teams?”

  “I suppose.” Alana didn’t look pleased. It wouldn’t be easy to explain what had happened ... and why. There would be people on both teams who’d feel cheated by the outcome. “But tell me ... what are you going to do?”

  I felt my heart clench. “I have to go back home,” I said. The suspicions I’d had, earlier, had hardened into certainties. I picked up the sword and studied the blade, reading the motto woven into the metal. “I have an uncle to kill.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.” I could feel the sword’s anticipation as I sheathed it. “Anything, for the family.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  It was getting dark by the time the carriage rattled throu
gh the gates and stopped in front of the main entrance.

  I stood, brushing down my tattered uniform as I scrambled out of the carriage. I hadn’t bothered to get a shower, let alone change into something fresh. The broadsheet boys were already hawking the news, their shouts filling the air as night slowly fell over the city. Something had already leaked. And, if it had reached the broadsheets, it had also reached the Great Houses. They all had sources within the school.

  The housekeeper stared at me in surprise. “Master Akin. Your clothes ...”

  “Never mind.” I cursed myself, a second too late, for snapping at her. “I’ll change in a moment.”

  She looked shocked, as if I’d hit her. I promised myself that I’d do something to make it up to her as I reached out and touched the wards. They welcomed me - and the sword - home. I thanked them, silently, then asked a simple question. The wards answered, at once. I breathed a sigh of relief. Clearly, not all the news had leaked. I took off my muddy shoes and hurried up the stairs. There was still time to reach the library before the remainder of the news reached the mansion.

  I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The wards crackled around me - they didn’t like my muddy clothes - but made no attempt to push me out. Good. I wasn’t in the mood to let them. I was quite prepared to draw the sword and cut my way into the library if necessary. The outer chamber was empty, a pile of books resting on the table; I glanced at them, wondered idly who was studying advanced alchemy, and strode into the reading room. Uncle Malachi was sitting on a chair, reading a broadsheet. He looked so affable that I almost thought twice. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe ...

  He looked up at me. His eyes went wide. I saw, just for a second, a flash of guilt and horror behind his eyes and I knew I was right. And yet, I was conflicted. Uncle Malachi was a kindly old man, a man who’d advised me as a child ... a man who’d raised Penny, a girl who grovelled to her superiors while belittling and bullying her inferiors. In hindsight, I should have wondered more about how a seemingly kind old man had managed to raise a daughter like Penny. It said a great deal about him that he’d never even tried to check her behaviour as she grew up.

  “Akin,” Uncle Malachi said. “What can I do ...”

  I cut him off. “You did it.”

  Uncle Malachi’s face became a mask. “Did what?”

  “You turned Francis against me,” I said. I reached for the sword and drew it as I stood facing him. The blade hummed in my hand, demanding blood. “You convinced him to turn on me.”

  “Indeed?” Uncle Malachi’s face was still expressionless, but his eyes never left the sword. “And what makes you say that?”

  He’s not denying it, I thought. It would be dangerous to try to lie to me, when I was holding the sword, but ... I knew, with a sick certainty, that I was right. He’d be outraged if he was innocent.

  “You asked how I could be so naïve, back when Father told me I’d be taking the Challenge,” I said. “And Francis used the same words.”

  Uncle Malachi paled. “Akin ...”

  “Francis is dead.” I took a little pleasure from the look of shock that crossed his face. “He knocked me down, tied me up, cast mind-control spells on the girls and ... and it wasn’t enough to save him. He fell from a very great height and ... he died. You sent him to his death. Why?”

  My thoughts ran in circles. Uncle Malachi had to be the person who’d encouraged Francis to take the plunge. Uncle Davys knew better, not after ... after whatever had happened between him and his brother. And yet, why? Uncle Malachi didn’t benefit, as far as I could tell. Or did he? If Francis became Heir Primus ... I shook my head. Francis would have had a lot of hard questions to answer before he was anointed Heir Primus. I didn’t think he’d be able to come up with satisfactory answers. And he’d never wanted to be Heir Primus. He’d told me that and ... and I still thought it was true. He could have done a great deal more to unseat me if he’d wanted the job for himself.

  Uncle Malachi’s face went very hard. “Don’t speak of things you don’t understand, boy.”

  I glared at him. “My father gave you everything. A wife, a place in the family, a position of power ...”

  His face flushed. “Shows how little you know, boy.”

  I stared, unable to reconcile the person I was seeing - now - with the kindly old uncle I’d loved. Uncle Malachi was ... what was he? This sneering person wasn’t my uncle. I wondered, just for a second, if he really wasn’t my uncle. It wasn’t impossible to fool the house wards, just very difficult. Someone could have taken his place and ... I shook my head, mentally. It would be impossible to keep the deception going for very long. Too many people knew Uncle Malachi for an imposter to take his place indefinitely.

  “Explain it to me,” I ordered. I pointed the sword at him and watched as he flinched, pressing his back into the chair. “Why?”

  “I did everything for your father,” Uncle Malachi hissed. “Everything. And what was my reward?”

  I blinked. “You’re part of the family ...”

  “Hardly.” Uncle Malachi snorted. “You think Petal cares that much for me? The match was arranged and ... she didn’t want me. She made her opinion quite clear, on our wedding night ... oh, have I shocked you? Poor little boy.”

  I flushed. “You had a daughter.”

  “Our duty,” Uncle Malachi shrugged. “And afterwards ... she went off to the estate, leaving the daughter with me.”

  “And you did such a good job of raising her.” I sneered. “I caught her bullying firsties, Uncle. Common-born kids who couldn’t defend themselves, kids who couldn’t fight back ... funny how she didn’t pick on any aristocrats.”

  “Quite.” Uncle Malachi glared at me. “You want to know the truth? Can you handle the truth?”

  He went on before I could think of an answer. “You know where I was born? Water Shallot! The very edge of Water Shallot, true, but Water Shallot nonetheless. Daddy was a merchant, permanently in debt to the loan sharks ... no loans from the bank for us! I grew up without two pennies to rub together. If I hadn’t won a scholarship, I would never have gone to Jude’s. My father couldn’t have afforded it.”

  I stared at him. “You grew up in Water Shallot?”

  Uncle Malachi kept speaking, ignoring me. “I went to school and I met kids who’d never been hungry, kids who were protected and cosseted by society ... kids like your father and uncle. They were the best of friends back then, allies even though they were expected to be rivals. I ... attached myself to them. I did everything: I fetched and carried, helped with their homework, snuck food and drink out of the dining hall after hours, clapped and laughed when they bullied other kids ... I even purchased alcohol and brought it into the school. I did everything, no matter how humiliating, because I wanted ... I wanted them to find me indispensable. I wanted them to take me with them when they left school.”

  He glared at the floor. “Oh, there were people who hated me, of course. They called me an arse-licker and all sorts of other names, but ... I told myself it didn’t matter. I would have done anything, if it kept me from having to go back to Water Shallot. I studied hard, I learnt how to comport myself in society and pretend that I’d never even heard of Water Shallot. I certainly had no interest in slumming, no interest in dropping hints about roguish dealings in the rough side of town. They never let me forget, of course. Your father treated me like dirt, even when I was serving him. You know what he used to call me?”

  I remembered. “Piglet.”

  “Oh, how we laughed.” Uncle Malachi shook his head. “And their reward? A wife who doesn’t love me, a place in society that can be yanked away at any moment and ... and what? I have nothing.”

  “I loved you,” I said, flatly. I met his eyes, daring him to look away. “And you set Francis up against me?”

  Uncle Malachi laughed, humourlessly. “Your father has enemies, boy. People in the family who think he shouldn’t be lording it over them. People who look at your betrothal and think he’s selling th
e family out to its enemies. People who hate him because of what he did to them, when he was a child. And when it dawned on me that he had enemies ... oh, it was easy to offer them my services. What loyalty did I owe your father?”

  “He lifted you out of the gutter,” I said. “Didn’t he?”

  “Your father was a bullying bastard!” The flash of anger on his face surprised me. “And when he had no one else to bully, he bullied me. I spent half my time finding new victims for him because when I didn’t it was me who got stuck to the ceiling or turned into a frog or forced to humiliate myself for his amusement. And his uncle was even worse. Do you know how easy it was to push him into betraying his brother, just for a title he didn’t really want?”