Study in Slaughter (Schooled in Magic)

by Christopher Nuttall

  “I’m not sure,” Emily said, slowly. She stepped towards the desk, staring down at the notepad and books she’d been looking at while they had been confined to their rooms. They were definitely in the wrong order. “Someone has been peeking at my stuff.”

  Alassa blinked. “Did you use a protective ward?”

  “...Yes,” Emily said. There were books and notes she didn’t want anyone looking at, even though she’d destroyed her concepts for a magical battery. “But they’ve still been moved.”

  She checked the ward...and sucked in her breath when she realized that it was still there. It just hadn’t been effective. Maybe she was imagining things...but she was sure that her books had been elsewhere. Someone had sat down at her desk, read her notes and then...what? Who?

  Master Tor? She asked herself. It was possible. She’d never realized that he had access to their rooms until he’d come bursting in to stop her from meddling with pocket dimensions. And he had searched her desk, she assumed, as well as everything else. No wonder the Gorgon had been so angry. The thought of someone pawing through her possessions was terrifying.

  “Strengthen the wards,” Alassa advised. “Maybe add a booby-trap or two; no one would question you using an anti-theft jinx, or even a curse.”

  Emily nodded and started to cast the spells, placing one on the desk, the chair and the floor underneath the desk. A second set of spells should alert her if anyone tried to break into her trunk, although she honestly wasn’t sure if Master Tor had managed to search it himself. Yodel did very good work...she wondered, briefly, what had happened to him, then dismissed the thought. He could go to Zangaria and Bryon would help him find a place in Cockatrice. It was, she suspected, what he’d wanted all along.

  “Done,” she said, finally. “We’d better go for lunch. It’s going to be a hard afternoon.”

  “And a hard evening,” Alassa said. “Unless you want to go for a snowball fight instead of watching the practice.”

  Emily sighed, inwardly, as she recognized the rebuke. “I’ll watch,” she said. “And I’ll throw balls too.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  THE REST OF THE WEEK, MUCH to Emily’s annoyance, proved no less surreal than the day after Travis had been murdered. Half of the students were still flinching away from her, while the other half were staring at her adoringly. It was disconcerting, so much so that she spent most of her time outside class in a private library room, where she could read and work without being constantly stared at. By the time the weekend rolled around, she was glad of the break.

  Lady Barb had told her, in confidence, that the staff had found absolutely no trace of a necromancer within Whitehall, something that puzzled them as much as it confused Emily. Had there ever been a real necromancer? Or had someone finally managed to make necromancy workable? Emily kept thinking of the potential Lady Barb had seen in her planned batteries and shuddering. Had someone stolen the idea from her and made it work, now that the Warden was gone? Or had they started using a trunk like hers to store the magic?

  She’d done her best to keep her eye on Master Tor—just in case Alassa happened to be right—but he did nothing, apart from casting dark glowers in her direction whenever she was in class. He didn’t even call on her to answer some of the fiendishly difficult questions he posed to the class, or invite her to serve on the debate team. In fact, he seemed determined to ignore her as much as possible, although he didn’t appear to be deliberately marking her down. But it was hard to be sure.

  And nothing she’d done had allowed her to identify the person who’d looked at her notes.

  Emily had added a dozen more spells, including some that were designed to trap the intruder and transfigure him or her into something harmless. And yet she was sure that her desk had been raided a second time, while she’d been in class. No toads had been hopping around her room when she’d returned, no one had been trapped and immobilized in front of her desk...it was a mystery. Whoever was studying her notes was a very skilled magician.

  But how could she identify him?

  “Remember to stay here this time,” Alassa said, as they walked into the arena. “You don’t want to miss this game.”

  Emily sighed, but nodded in agreement. The crowd of students were already gathering, even though some of them looked rather less than happy to see her. Down on the field, Cat and a handful of his teammates were getting in some final moments of practice. Two of them had been close friends with Travis and rather looked as though they had a score to settle. Emily was silently glad that she wasn’t playing. No one had tried to hex her into next week—or the next life—but she’d been aware of cold glances from the upper years. They didn’t seem inclined to believe she wasn’t to blame.

  “Good,” Alassa said, pushing her into a seat. “And, just to be sure...”

  There was a brief flare of magic and Emily found herself stuck to the seat. “Hey!”

  Alassa giggled. “Don’t run off now,” she said, mischievously. “And don’t read your book during the game.”

  Emily sighed. She could counter the charm, but doing so would reveal that she could work magic outside classes. And who knew who might be watching? On the other hand, she could simply ask someone to release her...she shook her head, tiredly. She owed it to her friends to stay and watch, even if the game did take hours.

  “I won’t,” she said, noticing several students glancing at her, then carefully sitting somewhere else. She was alone in the midst of the crowded arena. “And good luck.”

  “Cat will need the luck,” Alassa said. There was no way to tell if her attitude was confidence or mindless bravado. “And we’ll be looking for you.”

  Emily watched her go, then sat back and pulled the book out of her pocket. It outlined magical booby traps, including some that she’d seen in Blackhall, and the best ways to counter them. Aloha had urged her to read up on how to split the task of tricking a protective ward by working with someone else, suspecting that they would be tested on the topic soon. It looked awfully complex, but doable.

  I’ll have to hold up my own end, she thought, cursing her limited experience. She’d asked Professor Lombardi for extra lessons to help her catch up, but the Charms Professor had flatly refused. Mastering the basics was more important, he’d said, than trying to skip ahead and failing to grasp some of the essentials. Lady Barb, when she’d asked, had agreed and told her that she might just have to repeat the second year of Martial Magic.

  “You should consider yourself lucky,” she’d added. “Those who go straight into apprenticeships often have it much harder.”

  The whistle blew as both teams jogged into the arena. Emily sighed and carefully returned the book to her pocket, mentally cataloguing some of the spells she would want to practice with afterwards. Perhaps Aloha would help, if only to ensure that she got a passing grade herself. There was no way to avoid the prospect of Emily holding Aloha back from passing the course herself.

  Cat looked...grimmer than before, Emily saw, as he shook hands with Alassa. He would have known Travis...had they been friends? It was hard to imagine anyone being friends with him, but if he’d had a girlfriend perhaps he’d had proper friends too. Martial Magic did tend to focus on pushing people together, if only by giving them tests that could only be accomplished by working together. But Travis had been a jerk...

  He might have only been a jerk to you, Emily reminded herself, firmly. Perhaps he was nicer to his girlfriend.

  The whistle blew for the second time and balls started to spill into the arena, their colors rapidly flickering between red, yellow and green. Emily saw Alassa’s team preparing themselves, sneakily gathering balls in places where they could be picked up; Cat’s team seemed less inclined to hurry. But then, they knew that picking up the balls ahead of time—or when they were the wrong color—could be disastrous. And then the whistle blew for the third time and the game began.

  Emily leaned forward in horror as the pattern became clear. Cat—or at least some of h
is players—wanted blood. They were pushing themselves forward, ignoring chances to score for chances to take out Alassa’s players, either by throwing them into the penalty box or pushing them right out of the arena. She’d known that injuries were common in Ken, but she’d never realized how quickly they could mount up when one side was determined to cause as many as possible. They even threw a handful of jinxes and hexes when the referee wasn’t looking.

  She stared in horror as Alassa slammed against one of the invisible walls, then was hit by a ball that sent her into the penalty box. Cat’s team had to have planned their game carefully, she realized; they were concentrating on scattering the Upstarts and playing on their weaknesses. Alassa’s team simply didn’t have the experience they needed to remain calm as the game degenerated into savagery.

  The referee blew his whistle again as a hex was thrown too blatantly, sending one of Cat’s players out of the arena. Emily couldn’t help joining in the jeering and finger-pointing as the player made his way out of the field, where he was corralled by a grim-faced Sergeant Miles and dragged off towards the armory. She hoped, as she looked back at the arena, that he would have a tough time sitting down for the next few days. Nearly a third of Alassa’s team was down...or injured.

  “Not always a good idea to play,” Melissa’s voice said. She sat down next to Emily and smiled, rather unpleasantly. “Or to choose the wrong friends.”

  “Get lost,” Emily ordered, shortly.

  “But...ah, they blame you for Travis’s death,” Melissa said. “I think I know better. You’re not a killer.”

  Emily turned her head, looking down towards where Alassa’s tunic was stained with blood from her nose. She was surprised that her friend hadn’t backed out gracefully, but it wasn’t really like Alassa to simply give up. Instead, she caught a ball and threw it back with stunning force, blasting one of Cat’s players right out of the arena. The ball had to have been boosted by a spell, Emily saw, but the referee didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he just turned a blind eye.

  “I think you got lucky with Shadye,” Melissa added. “Or something else happened and they let you take the credit.”

  “And where,” Emily demanded, turning to face her, “were you while Shadye was tearing the school apart?”

  Melissa shrugged. Emily guessed that she, like Alassa, had been pulled out of the school before Shadye started his attack. Only a handful of the first-years had been allowed to remain behind, including Emily. Everyone else had been evacuated.

  “Oh,” Melissa said, airily. “That had to hurt.”

  Emily followed her gaze...and winced. Imaiqah had just been fouled by an older player who’d jumped right into her. She was on the ground, gasping in pain...seconds later, there was a bright flash of light and the older player became a toad. The referee barked orders, halting the game, and levitated Imaiqah out of the arena. Moments later, the toad and the player who’d cast the transfiguration spell were dragged out as well.

  “IF YOU DON’T PLAY DECENTLY, YOU WILL BOTH BE BARRED FROM PLAYING FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIVES,” the referee thundered, projecting his voice so it echoed around the arena. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?”

  “One shouldn’t play in the games unless one is prepared to win,” Melissa observed, watching the two Captains. Judging by their remarkably similar expressions, they would have preferred threats of public floggings or other humiliations to being barred from playing forever. “And...my, are there no risks one should not take?”

  “Shut up,” Emily snapped. “Shut up or...”

  “Or what?” Melissa asked. Her voice became mocking. “You’ll work magic?”

  Emily prepared a spell, ready to use it in front of the entire arena...but the referee blew his whistle again, distracting everyone. The second round seemed to be cleaner than the first; Emily glanced over at where Imaiqah was being tended by Lady Barb, trying to decide if she should go there. Before she could make up her mind, Imaiqah stood and headed to the stands.

  “Something smelly this way comes,” Melissa hissed. “Be seeing you.”

  She walked off. Emily hesitated, then cast a complicated repulsion charm at her back. It wouldn’t be immediately obvious, but Melissa would find herself very unpopular in a few minutes until she realized the charm was there and removed it. No doubt she’d hoped to earn kudos for sitting next to an alleged murderess—or the Necromancer’s Bane.

  Imaiqah joined her a moment later and sat down. “Lady Barb said I shouldn’t play for a few days,” she said, disappointed. “What did Melissa have to say to you?”

  “Nothing good,” Emily muttered. “Are you sure you want to keep playing?”

  “Yes,” Imaiqah said, cheerfully. “Have you noticed that we’re winning?”

  Emily had to laugh. It was true; Cat’s team had passed up hundreds of chances to score in favor of trying to evict Alassa’s players from the field. Now they were nearly a hundred points behind their rivals—and trying to catch up desperately. Alassa, realizing the problem, directed her players to guard the hoops and concentrate on taking out Cat’s players. She had the advantage, now that the referee was keeping an eye on the players, and all she had to do was capitalize on it.

  It was nearly an hour before the game finally came to an end. Cat’s team did better than Emily had expected, but they were down several players and two of their traitors revealed themselves at the worst possible moment. In the end, Alassa’s team won by twenty points. Emily joined in the cheering as the remaining team members took a lap of honor, then waltzed off towards the showers. Cat’s team were loudly booed.

  “Come on,” Imaiqah said, jumping to her feet. “Let’s go see them.”

  “You’ll have to undo the sticking charm,” Emily said. She flushed at Imaiqah’s expression. “Alassa stuck me to the seat.”

  Imaiqah snorted. “I thought she was joking,” she said, as she cast the cancelling spell. “You did manage to hurt her badly, you know.”

  “I know,” Emily admitted, bitterly.

  The team was laughing and joking as they came out of the changing rooms, even though several of them had been injured and continued to play. Alassa’s nose looked slightly out of shape, marring her perfect features, but she refused to accept any more immediate medical treatment. Instead, she insisted on leading the team out of the arena and out onto the snow-covered field. The servants had already set up a pavilion where the cooks were roasting whole sheep and cows, sending wonderful smells wafting through the air.

  Cat caught hold of Alassa’s shoulder and swung her around. “I’m sorry, all right,” he said, quickly. “I lost control and...”

  Alassa stepped forward and kneed him in the groin. “Apology accepted,” she said sweetly, as Cat collapsed to his knees. The other boys backed away hastily. “And we won.”

  “Report to my office after the feast,” Lady Barb ordered. There was the faint hint of a smile on her face, but it was buried under duty. “And then go get your nose fixed.”

  Emily smiled as Alassa led her towards the cooks, who cut slices of meat from the roasted animals and placed them inside large slices of bread. The meat smelled even better up close, while other scents drifted over from the large table of condiments. Emily took some mustard and spread it on her meat, then added some lettuce and cucumber. It tasted remarkably good.

  “Worth it,” Alassa said. They sat down at one of the tables and chewed their food. “Even if I don’t sit down for a few days, it will still be worth it.”

  “That game was madness,” Emily said. “I...are you sure you want to play?”

  “Yes,” Alassa and Imaiqah said, together. They grinned at each other.

  “I guess I will never see the attraction,” Emily said, ruefully. Ken just didn’t seem fun to her. “And I thought they were trying to kill you.”

  “Some of the uppermost players were alarmed by how well we did in our first game,” Alassa said, dryly. “I don’t think they really considered us a serious threat. Even if Travis hadn’t died, they
would still have wanted to break us as a team.”

  She touched her nose, gingerly. “I think we showed them not to take us lightly,” she added. “And the referee cut down on the nastier hexes...”

  “Next time they’ll just concentrate on scoring and not trying to actually push us out of the arena,” Imaiqah observed. “What’s going to happen then?”

  Emily shrugged. Even she knew that players had to strike a balance between scoring as much as possible and wearing down the opposing team. It was quite possible—if rare - for a team to lose all of its players and still win the match on points. In fact, the ideal would be to spend the first part of the match racking up a lead, then eliminating the opposing team before they could catch up. It was easier said than done.

  She finished her sandwich and looked towards the pit, where the cooks were frying chicken drumsticks in oil. It looked dreadfully unhealthy, but tempting; she stood up and took a handful of legs for herself and her friends. The cook’s eyes opened wide as she recognized Emily, then passed her some additional bread without being asked. There were people, Emily suspected, who would enjoy seeing fear in someone’s eyes. She just found it depressing.

  “Back to practicing tomorrow,” Alassa said, as she took one of the drumsticks. “And more classes on Monday.”

  Emily looked down at her fingers and nodded. They’d spent some time every night sewing runes, but it would be months—she suspected—before she mastered it completely. Alassa had complained more, pointing out that preparing wards and runes were what court wizards were for. Imaiqah had asked her, rather dryly, just how far she was prepared to trust any court wizard. Her father’s old wizard had accidentally done serious harm to her family line.

  “I suppose I’d better go see Lady Barb,” Alassa said, standing. “I’ll see you both in the library, won’t I?”

  “I can come with you,” Emily offered. “And Imaiqah probably needs more medical attention.”

  “She said I needed to rest,” Imaiqah said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, probably.”