“It’s sick,” she said, bitterly.
“Yeah.” Caleb had the grace to look uncomfortable. But then, he’d been born in a free city. Chattel slavery was banned in Beneficence. “And yet, we don’t have a choice.”
Emily said nothing as Hoban and Yvonne slowly sorted out the mess and got the carts rolling towards the gates. There was no point in trying to maintain a proper formation, not until they got out of the city. Emily wondered if they’d bother, even after they left. There were no threats in the desert, as far as anyone knew. And there were a lot of magicians with the convoy. Any passing bandits would probably go looking for easier targets.
“This way,” Caleb said. He looked away. “And I’m sorry.”
Guilt clawed at Emily as she clambered into the cart. The orcs at the front looked... desperately unhappy. She tried to tell herself that it was just an illusion, that orcs possessed nothing more than a brutish intelligence that drove them to bend the knee to the strong, but she couldn’t make herself believe it. Who knew what orcs would do with themselves if they were left alone? But she knew they would never be left alone. Too many people feared and hated them, with reason.
The Gorgon’s face was an unreadable mask as she followed Emily. Emily felt a stab of pity—and grief. The Gorgon wasn’t human either, in the eyes of most of the world. Her people, too, would be wiped out... if they didn’t confine themselves to regions too desolate and uncomfortable for the vast majority of humans. Maybe the Gorgon was wondering if she was looking at her future. The Gorgon could be enslaved, if she fell into the wrong hands. And there would be untold millions of people who would tell themselves—and everyone who cared to listen—that enslavement was for her own good.
She kept her thoughts to herself as the cart rattled into life, orcs pulling it down the street towards the gates. A handful of pedestrians—men and women in flowing white robes, covering everything below the neck—scrambled to get out of their way; a couple of children waved and cheered, shouting encouragement to the apprentices as the carts neared the gates. The guards didn’t bother to stop and search the carts, even though it was their legal right. They just waved the convoy through and turned back to checking the tiny cluster of people who wanted to enter the city.
“The city fathers probably told them to let us through without a fuss,” Caleb commented, dryly. “Or it might have been the king himself. He’s been sticking his oar in recently.”
“Maybe,” Emily said. She couldn’t see the city fathers being too pleased with Heart’s Eye—and Heart’s Ease—coming back to life. If nothing else, the latter would be a rival for trade... if, of course, the old roads were ever reopened. The sand had buried them a long time ago. “They’re probably of two minds about it.”
And glad to be rid of me, her thoughts added, silently.
She forced herself to watch as the landscape steadily became more and more desolate, from a cluster of well-tended—and green—farms to a multitude of smallholdings that were clearly struggling to eke out a living as the sand slowly choked them to death. Maybe the desert was receding. It would be a long time before the smallholders could relax, if they ever could. Their tiny farms were permanently on the edge. One bad year and... and that would be the end. Beyond them, abandoned farms dotted the landscape. She tried not to think about the refugees, the ones who’d fled the army—both armies, really—as war devastated the landscape. There was no way to know if any of them had made it home.
And how many of them, she asked herself silently, were enslaved? Sold into service as the price of their lives?
The air steadily grew hotter, despite the wards. Dust hovered in front of her eyes, mocking her. She could taste it on her tongue. The handful of passengers grew querulous, then silent as the convoy continued its slow journey. Sweat trickled down her back, making her uncomfortable. Only the Gorgon seemed unbothered, although she was clearly worried about something. Emily made a mental note to speak with her, later. She had no idea what she’d say, but she had no choice. The Gorgon deserved to be told that someone cared.
And what is the point of telling her, Emily asked bitterly, if nothing is actually done about it?
She shook her head slowly, trying to resist the urge to brood. The New Learning was spreading, slowly but surely. There was no way anyone, even the magical community, could stuff the genie back in the bottle. Any king who refused to embrace the innovations she’d brought—and the improvements countless unnamed craftsmen had made—would find his kingdom permanently behind, if it wasn’t conquered by its neighbors or his rule destroyed by an uprising from the lower orders. And, as the New Learning—and technology—spread, it would eliminate the need for slavery. Things would get better. She just had to hope the changes would come in her lifetime.
I could live a long time, she reminded herself. Void was in his second century. The Grandmaster had been around the same age before his untimely death. Who knows how much change I’ll see?
The desert became featureless, great rolling dunes that shimmered with faint hints of transient magic. Emily peered into the haze, wondering—not for the first time—what it might be hiding. It was odd to think that an entire army could be close to them, invisible until it marched into view. She shivered, remembering the orcs crossing the desert and laying siege to the city. She understood, more than she cared to admit, why so many people were scared of the orcs, why they’d felt they had to enslave the survivors. But the decision would never sit well with her.
“Nearly there.” Caleb sounded as tired as she felt. “We could go straight to Heart’s Eye.”
Emily considered it briefly, then shook her head. She was tired, they were all tired... and cranky, after hours in the cart. Better to rest and enter the school tomorrow. She couldn’t recall stumbling across any traps the first two times she’d entered the building, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. Heart’s Eye was a school of magic. There would have been traps, secret passageways... she knew, in her heart, that some of them must still be there. The necromancer probably wouldn’t have bothered to remove them.
At least this time I’ll have my magic, she thought. I’ll sense the traps before I trigger them.
She peered into the distance as Heart’s Eye came into view. The school was a giant fairy-tale castle, seemingly too flimsy to survive the strong desert winds. And yet, it was old. The records weren’t clear on just how old the building actually was—or who had built it in the first place—but it was clear that the building had survived for hundreds of years. She suspected the nexus point had had something to do with it. In theory, one could do anything... if one had enough magic. Keeping a fragile building intact, even after everything bad weather and a necromancer could do, wouldn’t be that hard.
Heart’s Ease was a nightmare. The city had been devastated twice, first by the necromancer and then by the uprising during the war. In the aftermath, the handful of surviving inhabitants had deserted the city, leaving it to the elements. Sand littered the streets, silently promising that, one day, the entire city would be buried under the dunes. Emily wondered if they had come too late to reinvigorate the city. Too many buildings already looked past repair. Others...
The cart rattled to a halt outside a large building that looked like a temple. Emily forced herself to stand, her muscles complaining loudly as she dropped to the ground. The aches and pains were worse than she’d imagined. She had to bite her lip to keep from screaming. She’d had beatings that had hurt less. She was more out of shape than she’d thought.
“Emily!”
She looked up to see a tall, young black man hurrying towards her, his hand raised in greeting. Cirroc hadn’t changed much in the months since she’d left Whitehall. He looked a little more mature than she remembered, but that might just have been Master Highland’s influence. Emily waved cheerfully as Frieda and the Gorgon dropped down next to her, the former clearly suffering from aches and pains too.
“Welcome to the pit,” Cirroc said, with cheerful irreverence.
“You’ll be pleased to know that Himself has been champing at the bit, determined to get into the school. He was even testing the wards.”
“And they kept him out?” Emily had no doubt of it. Master Highland would have moved into the school immediately if he could. “What happened?”
“He wasn’t too happy.” Cirroc shrugged. “But he seemed to accept it.”
He clasped hands with Caleb, then hugged the Gorgon. “It’s good to see you all again,” he added. “You can now all bow and scrape before me.”
“You’re not Head Boy any longer,” the Gorgon said.
“Yeah.” Frieda stuck out her tongue, childishly. “We don’t have to do as you say.”
Cirroc raised his hands in defeat. “They said it would look good on my resume,” he said, in mock self-pity. “They wouldn’t have lied to me, would they?”
“You sweet, innocent child,” Caleb said. “How could they deceive you so?”
“How could they?” Cirroc echoed. He sobered. “Although I’m not the only one who had that on my resume. What happened to Jacqui?”
“No one knows,” Emily said, stiffly. “She seems to have completely vanished.”
“I’m sure someone will bring her to justice, sooner or later.” Cirroc said. “I heard some very odd tales about you, over the past couple of months. Master was biting his fingernails in worry.”
“All lies.” Emily cast a tiny light spell, allowing the globe of light to rest in her palm. “And Jacqui was very much mistaken.”
“Evidently so.” Cirroc didn’t sound convinced. Emily wasn’t surprised. Something had clearly happened, something that had given Jacqui the courage to attack Emily. There were too many holes in the official version for the Cirroc she knew to accept it without question. “Anyway, you’d better come inside. We’ve been waiting for you.”
“It’s good to be here,” Emily said. She looked back at the orc-driven carts, then tried to put them out of her mind. “We have a lot of work to do.”
“Yep.” Cirroc looked past Emily. It took her a moment to realize he was staring at Yvonne. “It’s going to be interesting, isn’t it?”
“We live in interesting times,” Emily said, dryly. She gathered herself for the coming encounter. “Don’t we?”
Chapter Four
“LADY EMILY.” MASTER HIGHLAND ROSE AS Cirroc showed Emily into the room while remaining outside himself. “I think you’ve already met my apprentice.”
“I did.” Emily hesitated, unsure of the social etiquette. It was hard to say which of them was technically the superior. She owned Heart’s Eye, but this was Master Highland’s office... such as it was. She contented herself with a firm nod. “We knew each other at Whitehall.”
And he’s not a bad person, for a jock, Emily thought. She’d never liked or trusted jocks on Earth, but things were different on the Nameless World. I don’t have to wonder why you chose him for an apprentice.
“And it is good to see you again, hale and hearty.” Master Highland met her eyes. “I heard strange rumors...”
You could just come out and ask, Emily thought. Master Highland had always made her a little uneasy, although she wasn’t sure why. He never quite seemed to come out and say things. The closest he’d ever come had been when he’d been trying to trade Heart’s Eye for Frieda’s life—to all intents and purposes—and even that had been veiled. What do you want from me now?
“I was ill, for a time.” She cast another light spell, allowing the globe to float into the air and brighten the makeshift office. “But I got better.”
“That’s good to hear.” Master Highland shifted, uncomfortably. “I was... concerned.”
Emily had to smile. Master Highland probably didn’t give a damn about her personally—he seemed to regard her as a nuisance—but if she’d permanently lost her powers, Heart’s Eye might be lost with them. She was the only one who could enter or leave the school, at least until the wards were reconfigured. And without her magic, she couldn’t even do that... she thought. Yet Alanson had used her—somehow—to enter the school.
She took a seat without bothering to ask for permission and met his eyes. “We’ll enter the school tomorrow,” she said. “I assume you’ll want to accompany us?”
“Yes.” Master Highland sounded firm. “I also brought along two additional sorcerers, who have some... experience in such matters.”
Emily lifted her eyebrows. “Entering abandoned schools?”
“Entering dangerous places.” Master Highland looked back at her, evenly. “I believe that was why you asked Master Hoban along.”
“In a manner of speaking.” Emily thought fast. Master Highland hadn’t told her he’d be bringing additional sorcerers. He hadn’t told Caleb either, or Caleb would have said so. “Who are these sorcerers?”
“Professor Wyle, whom I believe you know, and Alchemist Dram, who I suspect you probably won’t.” Master Highland’s nostrils flared. It was obvious he was ready to argue. “They both have excellent credentials.”
Emily's eyes narrowed. “Professor Wyle was on the Tribunal,” she said. She didn’t remember much about him, but she remembered that. “He was on Fulvia’s side.”
“She was his patron,” Master Highland pointed out. “He could hardly do otherwise.”
That was true, Emily knew. It didn’t make dealing with Professor Wyle any easier. “And you thought he could be trusted?”
“He currently doesn’t have a patron,” Master Highland said. “House Ashworth has shown no interest in drawing Fulvia’s old clients back into the fold. That leaves him free to work for us, if you’ll accept him. He’ll swear all the standard oaths.”
“I’m sure.” Emily winced, inwardly. She would have preferred more time to think about it—and ask Melissa if there was anything she should know about Wyle. “As long as he behaves himself, he’s welcome to stay.”
“He has an excellent record,” Master Highland told her. “I’m sure he will behave himself.”
Perhaps I’ll ask him to give the Gorgon an apprenticeship, Emily thought. It would be an interesting test, although it wouldn’t tell her that much about him. Most magicians wouldn’t see anything wrong with discriminating against a demihuman. If he says yes, it’ll say something good about him.
She put the thought aside for later consideration and leaned forward. “Alchemist Dram?”
“He and Alchemist Thande were rivals, back in the day.” Master Highland sounded amused, as if he thought he’d scored a point. Perhaps he had. “They competed with each other for discoveries, but... Thande had more resources, before he was snapped up by Whitehall. Dram has a history of less spectacular discoveries, yet... he’s an inquisitive mind and I think he was quite taken with the idea of a university. He’s not too wedded to the Sorcerer’s Rule, either.”
“He sounds like a good choice,” Emily mused. “Do you have anyone else in mind?”
“Not as yet.” Master Highland looked down at his hands. “The Old Boys League offered to supply a list of names, but I told them to send it to you.”
“I never got it.” Emily sighed, inwardly. Where was her mail going, these days? She’d moved around so much, she wasn’t sure. “I’ll see where it went, if I can.”
“Please.” Master Highland shrugged. “I’m sure they won’t mind a delay.”
He picked up a folder and held it out to her. “My thoughts on how the university should be organized, built off the documents you sent me.”
Emily opened the folder and glanced at the contents. Master Highland had done a good job, perhaps too good. She was tempted to simply accept it... she shook her head, firmly. She detested paperwork, but one thing she’d learnt from Cockatrice was never to let someone else handle it without careful oversight. Master Highland’s plans could wait until Mistress Irene arrived, whereupon she’d provide the supervision. He’d certainly find it harder to argue Mistress Irene into embracing something with a nasty sting in the tail.
“We’ll discuss this later.
” She held onto the folder, determined to make him ask for it back. If he didn’t... well, she’d have a chance to discuss it with Caleb before she did anything irrevocable. “We have to clear out the school first.”
“And find out what happened.” Master Highland’s voice was uncharacteristically grim. “Whatever happened, it could happen to us too.”
Emily winced. “You still don’t know?”
“I asked every surviving Old Boy. And Girl.” Master Highland looked irked. “None of them knew anything, beyond the bare facts that everyone knows. The school was attacked, the wards fell... most of the students were hastily evacuated before it was too late...”
“Yes.” Emily looked down at her hands. “But how were the wards taken down?”
She considered it for a long moment. Whitehall’s wards had been taken down, back in her first year, but Shadye—the necromancer who had attacked the school—had manipulated her to do it. Had Dua Kepala had someone on the inside too? Or had he found a weakness that no one else had spotted, at least until it was too late? Or... or what? It was unlikely that anyone would drop the wards for maintenance with a necromancer and his army battering on the gates. Had there been a freak failure? It was difficult to imagine. A ward network that had been in existence for years wasn’t going to suddenly snap out of existence. If it had been poorly designed, it would have collapsed right away.
“There are rumors about experiments,” Master Highland said. “But, if there’s any truth to the rumors, everyone involved must be dead.”
“Probably.” Emily stood, still carrying the folder. “Do you want to come and meet the others?”
She opened the door. Cirroc stood outside, looking bored. He straightened up hastily when he saw Master Highland, as if he feared his master’s reaction. Emily didn’t blame him. Guard duty was no fun, particularly when there was no point. It wasn’t as if anyone could peek through Master Highland’s wards. Anyone who could wouldn’t be deterred by his apprentice.
Mirror Image (Schooled in Magic Book 18) Page 4