She tried to go back, but discovered—again—that it was impossible. The path led her onwards, back to the room she’d found. She sighed and followed it, keeping a wary eye out for Caleb or... something. Was he on a different path? Or... or what? Perhaps he’d used a different spell or... she frowned. Perhaps the mirrors were designed to toss someone out at a random location, unless they used the correct keycode. Or... she shrugged. They were finally starting to get a handle on what the mirrors were. Given time, they’d figure it out.
Or we’ll find out where the power is coming from and shut it off, she thought. She still didn’t understand where the power was coming from. She’d have to check the nexus point chamber carefully... very carefully. It was already weird, dimensionally speaking. Perhaps there was more to it than she’d thought. Was I really the first one to think of using pocket dimensions to store raw magic?
The world turned white around her, again. She closed her eyes and stepped forward. This time, she wasn’t going to land on her backside! The mirror seemed to guide her out, as if she was stepping off a boat. The floor felt reassuringly solid as she opened her eyes. She was back in the bedroom. She wasn’t disappointed. At least she wouldn’t have to disarm another set of traps before she could leave...
Something flickered, at the corner of her eye. She barely had a chance to move before a fist slammed into her jaw. The force of the impact sent her stumbling back, fighting to keep her balance. Another punch hurtled towards her, crackling into her shoulder. Emily yelped, tasting blood in her mouth. A third blow cracked her chest, between her breasts. An inch or two lower and she would have been in real trouble...
She had to fight to throw a repulsion charm at her attacker, throwing him back against the wall. Her mind was spinning, the pain making it hard to focus. She gritted her teeth as she pulled herself upright and saw... Caleb, his face twisted into a nightmarish grimace of fear and hatred and utter horror. He flailed madly, as if he’d forgotten everything he knew about fighting. And he wasn’t using any magic. She couldn’t even sense any magic in him.
Caleb? Emily was stunned. Who...?
Caleb lunged forward, hurling himself at her. Emily tried to raise a ward; too late. He slammed into her, knocking them both to the floor. Emily felt her head crack against the stone, making it impossible to concentrate long enough to cast a spell to stop him in his tracks. He brought his fist down, barely missing her head... he wasn’t focusing either, she realized dully. His weight held her down, but... he wasn’t trying to kill her or knock her out or even rape her. He was...
This isn’t Caleb, she realized, dully. Caleb—the real Caleb—would have knocked her out with the first blow, if he’d had the advantage of surprise. This Caleb was lashing out in a panic, throwing away his chance to win through sheer panic. She could practically smell his fear. Not my Caleb.
He grabbed her hair and pulled it, hard. It hurt, but it was hardly fatal. Emily braced herself, then cast a light force punch. Caleb was blasted off her—the spell recoil slammed into her chest, leaving her feeling as through she’d cracked a rib—nearly hitting the ceiling before he fell. Emily rolled to one side, narrowly avoiding him crash-landing on her. Caleb hit the ground, the force of the impact knocking the wind out of him. Emily focused long enough to cast a freeze spell. She eyed him warily—her Caleb would have no trouble breaking the spell from the inside—but he didn’t move. And yet...
She shuddered. His eyes were moving—and fearful. He was scared of her, so scared... she felt numb terror clawing at the back of her mind. He wasn’t scared of what she’d do to him now, after he’d attacked her; it was something else. She was sure it was something else, a deeply primal fear that reminded her of things she didn’t want to remember. Caleb—this Caleb—felt like a victim of constant abuse.
Emily took a moment to center herself, casting a pair of spells that should keep her from collapsing before she managed to get back to the others. She didn’t dare try to heal herself, not when she might accidentally make things worse. She rubbed her aching jaw, feeling blood trickling down her cheek. Caleb—the alternate Caleb—had loosened a couple of her teeth. His teachers would not have been pleased if he’d done it in front of them. The perfect opportunity to knock her out, and he’d flubbed it.
Sergeant Miles would knock him out, to demonstrate how it should be done, Emily thought. Jade wouldn’t have made that mistake. Cat wouldn’t have made that mistake. But this person didn’t know what he was doing.
Caleb watched her, making no attempt to free himself. Emily looked him up and down, silently noting the differences. He had a small beard... her Caleb had never wanted a beard. He’d always preferred to be clean-shaven. His clothes were different, more of a military uniform than the trousers and shirt Caleb—her Caleb—had been wearing when he’d stepped through the looking glass. Where was her Caleb? It was impossible to believe the cowering man in front of her was him. Caleb wasn’t... he wasn’t a coward. Not like this. The man in front of her was so scared of her, of everything.
“Who are you?” She knew he wouldn’t answer. He couldn’t answer. “And where did you come from?”
She forced herself to resume her inspection. There were no traces of his magic on him, as far as she could tell, but there were hints of someone else’s magic. It was hard to be sure. Her own magic was confusing her spells. She didn’t dare release the freeze until she got him somewhere secure... if he didn’t manage to break the spell himself. She gritted her teeth, then checked his pockets and belt pouch. He was carrying nothing, save for a tiny silver wand. It felt oddly light in her hand, as if it had been stripped of power long ago.
“I’m taking you somewhere safe,” she said, as reassuringly as she could. Caleb—this Caleb—had attacked her, but she couldn’t help feeling a twinge of pity. He’d attacked her in a blind panic. No wonder he hadn’t managed to land a killing blow. “And then we will talk properly.”
She cast a handful of wards over the mirror, in the hope they’d alert her if someone—or something—came out of the mirror after them, then carefully levitated Caleb into the air and steered him towards the door. His panic seemed to grow worse as she guided him down the corridor, as if he thought she was going to drop him at any moment. The thought cost her a pang. Caleb—her Caleb—had trusted her. He knew she wouldn’t hurt him deliberately. But this Caleb was so terrified...
“We’ll be there soon,” she said. They had to take the long way around. She didn’t want to risk levitating him down the ruined stairwell. It would drive him mad with fear. “And then we’ll see.”
She thought fast as they made their way down the servant staircase. It was too narrow for her to steer him properly, but she had no choice. Thankfully, the spell cushioned his body, protecting him when she accidentally bumped him into the wall. Dust kept billowing, making her cough helplessly. Her throat felt parched. Caleb had the water, didn’t he? She wondered, again, where he’d gone. If this was an alternate Caleb, was her Caleb in the alternate world?
And this one has a goatee, she thought. It was darkly amusing, although no one else would get the joke. If he went through the looking glass...
She shuddered. “What sort of world do you come from?”
The alternate Caleb said nothing. Emily snorted at the folly of expecting an answer from a man who couldn’t move anything save for his eyes, then put the thought aside as they reached the bottom of the staircase. The doorway opened onto the central corridor, a statue neatly concealing its location from any passing students. Emily rolled her eyes—it wasn’t as if the students couldn’t guess the passageways existed—and steered Caleb down the corridor. She heard footsteps and braced herself a moment before Seth stepped into view. The alchemist’s apprentice looked shocked.
“Lady Emily?” Seth stared at Caleb. “What...”
“Seth,” Emily said, curtly. He was the last person she wanted to ask for help, but he’d have to do. “Go find Master Highland. He’s in the classrooms, on level four. Tell him
to come to the office with the others, quickly.”
“Yes, Lady Emily.” Seth snapped to attention. “I’ll do it at once.”
Emily sighed as she levitated the alternate Caleb into the office and lowered him gently to the ground. Seth would do it, if he had a grain of sense in his head. And he’d probably give Master Highland an account of what he’d seen, too. That would bring Master Highland running, Emily was sure. Her friends would come with him too. And then...
She turned her attention to the alternate Caleb. He wasn’t looking at her any longer. He was staring at the covered mirror, his eyes wide with fear. He would have been shaking, if he’d been able to move anything apart from his eyes. She felt another stab of pity. Wherever he’d come from, it was clearly a nasty place. She wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t want to go back.
And my Caleb might be there now, Emily told herself. It made sense, she thought. If there was an alternate world... she wondered, grimly, if the alternate Caleb was something else, perhaps a warped reflection given shape and form. In that case... it didn’t matter. She didn’t know where to begin. How the hell are we going to get him back?
Chapter Twenty-Two
“EMILY?” MASTER HIGHLAND SOUNDED ASTONISHED. “WHAT have you done?”
Emily looked up. “This isn’t Caleb,” she said. “Not our Caleb.”
She explained, quickly, as Frieda and the others joined them. Alt-Caleb—she couldn’t think of anything better to call him—looked even more fearful, somehow, as she explained that he was either a twisted reflection of Caleb or he’d come from an alternate world. Emily wasn’t sure which one would be preferable. It was possible, she supposed, they were both true. She didn’t pretend to understand the uncertainty principle or how it related to alternate universes—she might be living proof that parallel worlds existed, but not alternate timelines—and most of what she knew came from fiction, but... she shook her head. Caleb—her Caleb—had been real. And he was out there somewhere.
“And so we have this person instead.” Master Highland studied Alt-Caleb thoughtfully. “What did you do to him?”
“Froze him.” Emily still didn’t know why Alt-Caleb had attacked her on sight. Blind panic? Or something more sinister? He clearly hadn’t planned the encounter. “What do you make of him?”
“He has a beard.” Cirroc laughed, humorlessly. “Our Caleb mocked me for trying to grow a beard.”
The Gorgon knelt beside Alt-Caleb. “Don’t you think we should try asking him?”
Emily nodded. “I’m going to fine-tune the spell,” she said, to Alt-Caleb. “You’ll be able to talk. Please answer our questions.”
Master Highland snorted. “Do you expect him to respond well to being asked nicely?”
“We can try.” Emily concentrated, carefully rewriting the spell without cancelling it completely. “Let me...”
Alt-Caleb’s head jerked, as if he’d been slapped. “I...”
He threw back his head and screamed, loudly. Emily covered her ears. Alt-Caleb was reacting more like a mundane who’d just encountered magic—like Roland, her thoughts whispered—than someone from a proud magical family of long standing. His eyes flickered from side to side, as if he were looking for something safe. But everywhere he looked, he saw something that terrified him. He even seemed scared of Frieda.
“We could feed him a calming potion,” the Gorgon suggested. “Or perhaps use a light compulsion spell...”
“He’s too badly traumatized,” Master Highland said. For once, he sounded as if he was trying to solve the problem instead of sniping at them. “A potion—or even a spell—might kill him outright.”
Emily rested her hand on Alt-Caleb’s forehead. He felt hot and feverish, as if he was burning up from the inside. She concentrated, checking the spells binding him as carefully as she could. Was he cursed? Or... or what? He didn’t seem to be dying, but... she reminded herself, sharply, that people could have a physical reaction to raw fear. Alt-Caleb might be traumatized beyond easy repair. He wouldn’t find much help, either. The Nameless World had no therapists.
“We have to do something,” she said. “I just don’t know what.”
“Read his thoughts,” Frieda suggested. As always, she cut through the chaff and proceeded straight to the heart of the matter. “You did it before, remember? You read my mind.”
Emily winced, inwardly. She would have preferred not to discuss that in front of Master Highland. She knew enough soul magic to worry the White Council, if the councilors ever put two and two together and realized what she’d learnt. And Master Highland might tell them... Emily shook her head. She hadn’t broken the rules, merely bent them. Really, someone else had done it for her.
“I might have to,” she said. The thought made her uneasy. She’d never been comfortable forcing her way into someone’s mind. It felt like rape, even if the person volunteered. And Alt-Caleb would not volunteer. “Do we have any other choice?”
“You will need to be very careful,” Master Highland said. He indicated Alt-Caleb with his foot. “You could get lost in there. You might never come out.”
“I know.” Emily took a breath, steadying herself. Master Highland actually sounded concerned. “I don’t think we have any other choice. Please, prove me wrong.”
Master Highland frowned. “We could give him a potion anyway, despite the risks. There are some that might work... Dram could brew them, if he doesn’t have a vial or two in stock. Or we could simply give him something soothing and wait for him to calm down. Or... we could simply wait.”
“We don’t have time!” Cirroc stood and started to pace. Magic crackled around him, darting around his fingers. “Where’s the real Caleb?”
“We have to get him back,” Emily said. Caleb was a friend. They couldn’t leave him... wherever he was. “Before... before something happens to him.”
“It’s already happened to him,” Master Highland muttered.
Emily said nothing as she sat behind Alt-Caleb, pulling his head into her lap. His hair felt oily against her bare skin, as if—at some point in his life—he’d forgotten how to take care of himself. It felt odd to be touching him, as if she was doing something wrong. His hands... her eyes narrowed as she realized something else was missing. Alt-Caleb clearly hadn’t managed to seriously injure himself while he’d been preparing for his exams. Her Caleb had had to take a year off to recover. He still bore the scars.
“I’m sorry,” Emily said. She wasn’t sure who she was really addressing. Alt-Caleb... or Master Highland? Or herself? “But I don’t have a choice.”
She gritted her teeth, then reached out with her mind. Caleb—her Caleb—could have resisted. He knew enough about mental magic to keep her out, even if she’d been prepared to risk breaking him as she smashed through his mental defenses. But Alt-Caleb had none. His mind was an open book. She frowned inwardly as she sank into his thoughts, wondering just how he’d managed to survive. There were plenty of ways to raid a person’s mind that weren’t borderline illegal...
A storm of fear struck her, crashing into her mind with terrifying power. Emily nearly screamed in absolute panic, as if she was too scared to string two thoughts together... the force nearly shoved her right out of Alt-Caleb’s mind. The emotion was so strong that it dragged her forward, like a cork in a storm... she had to fight to hold herself together, rather than letting her mind be shredded by fear. It was cloying, utterly terrifying. Alt-Caleb wasn’t scared of anything in particular. He was just so terrified that he might as well be scared of everything.
She forced herself to concentrate, to reach out to his memories as she’d been taught. But the fear itself was a strong defense, making it almost impossible to find anything. She wondered, grimly, if someone had imposed the fear on him. It would keep him from functioning normally, but... it would also keep him from blabbing his secrets. He could be threatened with everything from torture to domination spells and he wouldn’t break, because he was too scared. The fear of fear itself would keep h
im silent.
The maelstrom grew stronger, somehow, as she pushed her way through the storm. A handful of memories slammed into her, each so jagged and broken that she couldn’t put them in coherent order. She thought she saw a familiar face, but it was gone before she could focus on it. Caleb’s mother? His sisters? Or... her? The image brought so much fear with it that she nearly lost control of her bladder. The sensation yanked her out of his mind and tossed her back into her body. If it was a defense, she realized numbly, it was very effective. And someone had imposed it on him...
Her hands were shaking. The fear had tainted her, gnawing at her mind. She knew there was nothing to be scared of, but... it was hard, so hard, to dismiss it. It took her several minutes to be able to speak again. When she did, her voice shook.
“I couldn’t get anything,” she said. Her hands refused to stop shaking. She clasped them in her lap. “He was just so scared...”
She felt pity, mingled with horror. Lady Barb had told her horror stories about people who were subjected to compulsion or domination spells. Given time, the spell would start to work its way into their mind, doing permanent damage. Eventually, they would turn into drooling idiots. There were no shortage of stories about sorcerers who’d abused such spells... and the human wreckage they left in their wake. She had the feeling she was looking at one such victim right now. It was hard to believe that Alt-Caleb might have anything in common with her Caleb. They were very different people...
A nasty thought stuck her. She rested her finger on his forehead, trying to determine what spells might have been used on him. It wasn’t easy. If he’d been under the spell for years, the effect might have lingered long after the magic had worn off. She didn’t want to imagine the kind of person who would do that to someone... she shuddered. She’d met too many magicians who thought that power gave them the right to do whatever they liked. Seth, for example...
Mirror Image (Schooled in Magic Book 18) Page 21