“That’s probably a good idea,” Praxis said. “I’ll see to it.”
Emily watched as he went to work, trying to remove the mirror from the wall. But it refused to come free, no matter what he did. Emily’s eyes narrowed as a series of charms, one powerful enough to dent the stone wall, failed to budge the mirror. There was no magic in the mirror, as far as she could tell, yet... it remained firmly in place. She stepped forward and ran her fingers down the edge. She couldn’t even feel the seam where the mirror met the wall. It felt as if the mirror had been merged into the wall at a molecular level.
“Curious,” Praxis said. He rapped the mirror with his bare hands. “It feels normal, but I just can’t get it free.”
“Cover it up,” Yvonne suggested. “We can put a bookcase in front of it.”
“We might have no choice,” Praxis said. “What is this?”
He looked at Emily. “Is it anchored to the wards?”
“The wards were gone when I first entered the school,” Emily reminded him. “The necromancer never bothered to protect his home, merely himself.”
She reached out with her senses, probing the mirror. There was no magic, as far as she could tell. There was no hint there was anything supernatural at work. And yet, there was something. The mirror was practically part of the wall. On impulse, she leaned forward and put her ear to the mirror. She heard nothing, beyond the dull thudding of her heartbeat.
Hoban snorted. “What are you doing?”
“Good question.” Emily felt her cheeks heat as she pulled away from the mirror. Her reflection seemed to be laughing at her. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Most things do,” Praxis said. “I’ll put a bookcase in front of the mirror. If we can’t move any of the others, we’ll just have to do the same to them.”
Emily nodded. “We’ll seal off the rest of the classrooms,” she said. “Yvonne, tell your people to leave them alone—particularly the alchemy classroom—until we’ve had a chance to inspect them.”
“Will do.” Yvonne gave her a tired smile. “You’ll be pleased to know we managed to draw water from the lake. The pipes appear to be largely intact, but... right now, I’ve isolated most of the school from the plumbing network. We’ll have to inspect it, piece by piece, until we’re sure there aren’t any leaks.”
“As long as we have water in the showers,” Emily said, firmly. She was starting to feel dirty and sweaty again. She’d almost forgotten while she’d been busy. “And then we have some more work to do.”
“It won’t ever end,” Yvonne predicted. She sounded tired too. “But that isn’t a bad thing, is it?”
“Perhaps not.” Emily shrugged as she turned to look back at the mirror. “We have to get this place ready for students.”
She watched as Praxis detached a bookcase from the wall and carried it over to the mirror, carefully placing it so the bookcase concealed the mirror from view. Emily frowned. The air had changed, although... she wasn’t sure if she’d imagined it. She reached out with her senses once again, but sensed nothing. Even the vague feeling that something was there had gone. It was a relief, except she didn’t know what it was. Perhaps it was just her imagination.
Or subtle magic, she reminded herself. The rune she’d carved into her chest hadn’t worked quite right, ever since she’d lost and regained her magic. She wasn’t sure why. The rune should have worked with or without magic. We’ll have to check for that, too.
Chapter Eleven
“THE CLASSROOM IS EMPTY, AS FAR as I can tell.” The Gorgon stood just inside the room. Her skin had taken on an odd greyish pallor that worried Emily. She didn’t know that much about Gorgons—no one did, save for the Gorgons themselves—but she doubted it was a good sign. “No traps or tricks at all.”
“How suspicious,” Emily said. She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her, reaching out with her senses. There was no magic there, save for the two of them—the Gorgon had always had a strong presence—and the background hum of the wards. The mirrors were just... mirrors. “Something is bound to be wrong.”
The Gorgon eyed her, then nodded. “I heard some weird rumors about you, Emily.”
“Which ones?” Emily tried to sound as though the concept didn’t bother her. “I hope it wasn’t the one about me defeating Shadye with the power of love, sweet love.”
“No.” The Gorgon met her eyes. Emily found it hard to keep eye contact. “The rumors said you’d lost your magic.”
Emily smiled, rather weakly. “Do I look insane?”
“There are also people who say you are insane.” The Gorgon didn’t look away. “What happened?”
“I was cursed,” Emily said, bluntly. “King Randor—Alassa’s father—cursed me in the last moments of his life. I lost my powers, very briefly. And that’s pretty much all there is to the story.”
“I’m glad you recovered them,” the Gorgon said. “And that you invited me here.”
Emily caught a hint of wistfulness in her friend’s voice and leaned forward. “Are you alright? I mean...”
The Gorgon laughed, humorlessly. “I’ll be fine.”
“Really.” Emily sat down on one of the desks. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not particularly.” The Gorgon sniffed, then sat facing her. “I just hoped... I’d have an apprenticeship, just like everyone else.”
Emily felt a twinge of sympathy. “You couldn’t find anyone?”
“No one reputable,” the Gorgon said. “I had a couple of offers from dubious magicians, including one who specialized in creature magic, but neither of them were particularly good. I’d probably find myself being skinned alive if I went to them. Literally.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Emily said. She’d never been very good at listening when someone poured out their troubles to her, but she exerted herself for her friend. “Didn’t you do well in your exams?”
“I did very well.” The Gorgon’s bitterness shone through her flat tone. “But it wasn’t enough to get a good offer.”
“You could try talking to Melissa,” Emily suggested. “Or Cabiria. They might know someone who’d be happy to take you on.”
The Gorgon shook her head. Her snakes shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t want charity.”
“I’m sure they’d be happy to make you pay through the nose for it,” Emily said. The thought caused her a twinge of unease. What would Void want in exchange for taking her as an apprentice? They’d never discussed a price. “You’d be working for them, wouldn’t you?”
“I couldn’t offer them anything unique,” the Gorgon pointed out. “Or anything they couldn’t get elsewhere, without the... problems... of taking me as a student.”
“You’re a good student,” Emily said. “You wouldn’t have survived Whitehall, else.”
“Yeah.” The Gorgon rubbed her snakes. “But I’m also a Gorgon.”
Emily nodded, reluctantly. “What did your people have to say about it?”
“Roughly translated, we told you so.” The Gorgon smiled, revealing sharp white teeth. “There are some subtle points of what they said I can’t share with you, but... that’s pretty much what it means. Quite a few of my tribe argued that I shouldn’t go, even if I did have a talent for magic. They thought I should study under the tribal shamans instead.”
“I’d love to know more about them,” Emily said, honestly. “What would they teach you?”
“I don’t know.” The Gorgon shrugged. “They don’t share their secrets with outsiders. And anyone who tries to spy on them winds up with a stony personality.”
“I can imagine,” Emily said. Her one brush with gorgon magic had nearly killed her. “You will find a place here, I promise.”
“I hope you’re right,” the Gorgon said. “But...”
She met Emily’s eyes, then indicated the mirror in the corner of the room. “Do you notice that, sometimes, the images in the mirror shift when you’re not looking?”
Emily frow
ned. “Sometimes. I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it or... or if there was something else there.”
“This is a creepy building,” the Gorgon said. “It reminds me of some of the old places, near the heartlands. There are traces of magic there too, old magic. We’re not supposed to go anywhere near them.”
“And you did?” Emily knew her friend. “What did you see?”
“They found me wandering along the borderline, dazed and lost.” The Gorgon shuddered. “I don’t remember what I saw, if I saw anything. My”—she said a hissing word no human could have pronounced—“my... ah, my great aunt told me I was lucky, that some people walked in and never came out again. And then she made sure I never went there again.”
She shook her head, slowly. “She was very frightened, although... I’m not sure what she was frightened of.”
“Some old places can be very dangerous,” Emily noted. “The raw magic alone can be lethal.”
“Yeah.” The Gorgon let out a hissing sigh. “And some others can be very informative, if approached correctly.”
She gazed at the mirror, her reflection looking back at her evenly. “I think we need to figure out what actually happened here,” she said. “And quickly.”
“We will.” Emily was sure of that, although she had no way to know how long it would take before they found answers. “Something must be written down somewhere.”
“Don’t count on it,” the Gorgon grumbled. “My tribe never writes anything down. They’d kill anyone who suggested it. Better to rely on one’s memory than parchment and paper.”
“Why?” Emily found it difficult to believe. “Who knows what might be forgotten over the years?”
“The memory singers are very good,” the Gorgon told her. “Believe me, they never forget anything. But...”
She shook her head. “You know as well as I do that some secrets are never written down, or shared beyond a small circle. If everyone who knew the truth died when the school was invaded, then... the secret would have died with them.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Emily said. She made a deliberate decision to change the subject. “What else is new with you?”
“Nothing good.” The Gorgon hesitated, noticeably. “My”—she made another hissing sound—“sent me a letter. Our marriage has been cancelled.”
Emily blinked. “I didn’t know you were engaged.”
“It was arranged, since birth.” The Gorgon looked down at her scaly hands. “He and I grew up together, knowing we would be married one day. The tribes arranged it for us. Now... they tell us we won’t be getting married. His family has doubts about me.”
“About you?” Emily stared in disbelief. “What sort of doubts?”
“My magic,” the Gorgon said. “I told you. They would have preferred me to become a shaman.”
Emily shook her head, slowly. She found it hard to believe that anyone would casually accept a marriage being arranged for them, certainly not one that had been arranged well before either party was old enough to give informed consent. It was easy to imagine two families pushing a reluctant bride and groom to tie the knot, even if they’d grown to hate each other. Even King Randor had been unwilling to betroth his daughter before she grew into adulthood. But... she could also see why the Gorgon might have accepted it. If she’d grown up with her future partner, knowing they would be partners...
She frowned. “What did he have to say about it?”
“Oh, nothing.” The Gorgon sniffed. “It wouldn’t be right for him to say anything about it.”
“I don’t understand,” Emily said. “Why...?”
“Marriages are arranged by the adults,” the Gorgon said. “It can’t be left to the children. He simply accepted their decision, as was his duty.”
“But...” Emily thought, fast. “If everyone is married off, or at least paired off, will he ever find someone else?”
“Probably,” the Gorgon said. “Some matches are never consummated. One of the partners dies or... something happens to invalidate the match. And I’ve really said too much.”
“I won’t tell anyone, not without your permission,” Emily assured her. “And you will always have a place here.”
The Gorgon indicated her snakes. “Do you think everyone will accept me?”
“They’d be fools not to,” Emily said, although she had to admit the Gorgon had a point. It was hard to look her in the eye, even if most of the horror stories about gorgons and their magic were nothing more than exaggerations. A thought struck her. “What do you want to study?”
“Charms, perhaps,” the Gorgon said. “Or Alchemy.”
“Why don’t you ask Mistress Irene for an apprenticeship, once she’s settled in?” Emily leaned forward. “She’ll need an assistant to run the university, someone who isn’t wedded to the old way of doing things. You might be ideal.”
“If she’d take me.” The Gorgon shrugged. “She was always good to me.”
Emily nodded. The Gorgon had always placed a high value on truthfulness and brutal honesty, even when it might be more diplomatic to be tactful. Emily rather suspected it was a tribal trait. The desert had little room for nuance, let alone anything that might pass for political correctness. Mistress Irene’s strictness—and dedication to her art—would have pleased the Gorgon, perhaps even reminded her of home. And Mistress Irene was always fair. She’d never given the Gorgon a hard time.
The Gorgon smirked. “Should I be asking you about Cat? Rumor linked your name with his...”
“We split up.” Emily tried to keep from blushing. “We had problems, when I was cursed, and... it ended.”
“That’s a pity.” The Gorgon grinned. “And Caleb is right here, right beside you.”
Emily felt her cheeks heat. “We split up, too.”
“I’m sure he’s still interested in you,” the Gorgon teased. “Of course, at his age, he’d be interested in a hole in the wall...”
“Oh, shut up.” Emily tried to gather herself. “You could always send Gavin a note...”
The Gorgon sighed. “He wanted more than I could offer, back then. Now... I don’t know what I want, let alone what he wants.”
There was a tap on the door. Emily reached out, peering through the wards. “Caleb.”
“He must have overheard us talking about him,” the Gorgon said. “Better look innocent.”
Emily gave her a sharp look as Caleb opened the door and peered inside. “Emily?”
“We were just talking about you,” the Gorgon said. She stood and swept towards the door. “Your ears must have been burning.”
She walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. Emily felt herself blush, again, as Caleb turned to face her. God alone knew what was going through his mind. Emily hoped he’d think the Gorgon had been teasing. She could be quite playful, although her sense of the appropriate was somewhat lacking. Emily suspected that her society—and upbringing—had been more restrictive than many others.
“Do I want to know?” Caleb sat down on a rickety chair. “Or should I just leave it to my imagination?”
“We were just discussing the possibility of her being apprenticed to Mistress Irene,” Emily said. “If, of course, Mistress Irene wants her.”
“And if she has time to take on an apprentice,” Caleb pointed out. “You’d have to ask her. No, maybe it shouldn’t be you who asks her. She won’t be happy if she feels she’s being pushed into taking an apprentice she doesn’t want.”
Emily frowned. “Then what?”
“Normally, prospective apprentices write to masters.” Caleb stroked his chin. “If the Gorgon wrote a formal letter, asking for an apprenticeship in exchange for service... it might work. But, at the same time, Mistress Irene might be reluctant. Schools have had problems, in the past, when teachers and deputies were bound too closely to their master. No one would expect an apprentice to go against their master, whatever the master was doing.”
“The Gorgon wouldn’t hesitate to tell Mistress Irene if sh
e thought Mistress Irene was making a mistake,” Emily pointed out. “And Mistress Irene would listen.”
“They wouldn’t be in a classroom,” Caleb countered. “The relationship between a master and an apprentice is always more... intimate than a classroom with a dozen students and a single teacher. People are going to talk about you and Void, even if they think he’s your father.”
“I know.” Emily nodded, stiffly. “Do they have reason to be concerned?”
“They think he’s your father,” Caleb reminded her, dryly. “They’ll assume he went easy on you, instead of giving you the training you need. And if they knew the truth, they’d be even more concerned.”
“Some people have too much time on their hands,” Emily said, tartly. “Do you think I should decline the apprenticeship?”
“No.” Caleb gave her a faint smile. “Unless Lady Barb offers you an apprenticeship, of course. She would probably make a better teacher.”
Emily had to smile. “She doesn’t feel that way,” she said. “She told me that, a few years ago.”
“I hope you told her otherwise,” Caleb said. “I enjoyed learning from her, in Whitehall.”
“Me too.” Emily felt her smile grow wider. “One of our better teachers, definitely. I’m hoping she’ll come teach here, when we’re up and running. A seminar, at least.”
“That would be good,” Caleb said. “Mother wasn’t so impressed by the concept. I had to argue for hours before she’d agree to let me go.”
Emily frowned. Sienna had never approved of Emily as a potential partner for her son. “I thought you were an adult.”
Caleb colored. “I am, but... family.”
“Yeah.” Emily felt... she wasn’t sure how she felt. Pity and contempt and... grim understanding. She couldn’t keep the irritation out of her voice. “Did your mother suggest any girls to you?”
“A couple.” Caleb shook his head. “I... I don’t want to talk about it. Or do you want to talk about Cat?”
Emily groaned. “And there I was, thinking we were being discreet.”
“People talk,” Caleb pointed out. “You should know that, by now.”
Mirror Image (Schooled in Magic Book 18) Page 11