The quaestors waited until I was finished, then tossed a series of questions at me. They were lighter than I’d expected - I’d feared they’d ask more about just how Rolf had managed to lure us out of the school - but I still had to think carefully before answering them. I didn't want to lie directly, yet if I gave them a reason to suspect I was trying to mislead them ... sweat poured down my back as I chose my words. A mistake now could prove fatal.
“We thank you,” Mathis said, finally. It felt as though I’d been on the stand for hours. “Does anyone have any points to raise?”
I gritted my teeth as the various senior magicians started to ask their own questions, then arguing amongst themselves. One magician would ask a question, only to have another shout it down before I could answer. The Crown Prince seemed oddly amused by the whole display, even as he tried to calm them down. It would have been funny, I was sure, if I hadn't been in the witness box. I wanted a glass of water and a chance to sit down, not wait for them to decide what questions I was actually supposed to answer.
The Crown Prince finally managed to restore order, only to have Great Aunt Stregheria signal for attention. “It cannot be denied that my niece has conducted herself well,” she said, in a poisonously sweet tone. “However, she cannot defend herself against attack. I believe she should be taken into protective custody at once.”
I felt my legs threaten to buckle. Great Aunt Stregheria had tried to take me into her home once before, offering to foster me ... she’d talked a good game, but I knew, all too well, that she wanted to make use of me. My mere existence threatened the balance of power. Too many people might have been secretly relieved if the kidnappers had slit my throat in the dark.
Dad rose, glaring at his aunt. “It has been decided that Caitlyn will continue at Jude’s for the immediate future,” he said. He sounded displeased. I had a feeling that a number of high-level discussions had taken place, concerning me, as soon as we’d been rescued. “The school’s security measures have been reviewed and should prove suitable.”
“That has been agreed,” the Crown Prince said. His voice was polite, but firm. “Caitlyn will remain at Jude’s until a final decision is made.”
I was torn between relief and annoyance. On one hand, I wouldn't have to leave the school immediately. But, on the other hand, they were talking about me as though I was an object, rather than a person. My fate wasn't in my hands. It might never be in my hands, even after I had my Season. The kidnappers might have failed to keep me prisoner, but someone with more forethought might be able to construct an inescapable prison. They’d certainly have a better idea of what not to do.
“Thank you, Lady Caitlyn,” the clerk said. “You may return to your seat.”
It was all I could do not to sag as I made my way back to the bench and sat down. I felt sweaty and uncomfortable ... I needed a shower, perhaps even a bath. The charms on the dress had clearly failed already, no matter what the seamstresses had promised. I hoped Rose would have an easier time of it. Her spells should last for the rest of the dress’s lifetime.
The clerk called Akin to the stand. I braced myself, half-expecting to have someone calculate the timeline of events and realise I’d left out part of the story, but nothing happened. Akin ran through his version of events, then answered a handful of questions. It was clear that his father had forced him to practice, time and time again. His answers were crisp, brief and left very little room for further questions.
His dad probably started to train him as soon as he was old enough to walk, I reminded myself, before I could start wondering why my father hadn't tried to prepare us. Akin was pretty much the designated heir right from the start.
Akin sat down. Rose was called up. I gritted my teeth as it became all too apparent that Rose didn't have the slightest training in public speaking. Even in the charmed courtroom, her voice was so quiet that the clerk had to tell her to speak up several times. But her story accorded with ours on almost all of the points, leaving no reason for the quaestors to start wondering about missing time. What had I been doing when Akin and Rose had been trapped in the ruined house?
They don’t know they lost any time either, I reminded myself. I still didn't know how that had been done. A magician could freeze someone in her tracks - Alana had done it to me more times than I could count - but the victim would still be conscious. Akin and Rose never realised they were enchanted.
There was a pause once the quaestors had finished questioning Rose. I half-expected Great Aunt Stregheria to question Rose’s story, on the grounds that Rose was a common-born girl instead of a great magician, but she kept her mouth shut. Hardly anyone asked her a question, even after the quaestors opened the floor to the audience. Perhaps they didn't take her seriously. There was no way Rose could be mistaken for a nobly-born girl.
“Thank you,” the clerk said, dismissing Rose. “Sir Griffons?”
A rustle ran through the room. Technically, Rose should have been given time to sit down before the next witness was called. Sir Griffons rose, but stayed where he was until Rose sat down. He didn't look pleased as he took the stand. I squeezed Rose’s hand, then looked at Akin. He looked as tired as I felt. And it wasn't even noon!
I leaned forward, interested, as Sir Griffons began to speak. He sounded calm, but very confident. His voice admitted of no doubt, not even the vaguest feeling he might be wrong about something. I couldn't help admiring his demeanour. I wanted to be that calm when I grew up.
“We were alerted to the kidnapping when the three victims did not return to their dorms at Lights Out,” Sir Griffon told us. “We immediately checked the other dorms and discovered that a handful of upperclassmen had also vanished, although it was hard to be certain they were involved as it was the weekend. By that time, the kidnappers had had several hours to move their victims to a warded location and transport them to the Eternal City.”
I was too tired to keep from smiling, although I knew it wasn't really funny. Upperclassmen were not supposed to leave the school, even on weekends, but most of them sneaked out anyway. It was an old tradition, one that had exploded in the faces of anyone unlucky enough to be playing truant when we’d been kidnapped. The Kingsmen would not have been gentle to anyone who had been missing from the school. Sandy had told me that she’d been subjected to truth spells and potions before she’d finally been cleared of any direct involvement in the affair. I doubted the others had fared any better.
The thought made me wince. The poor upperclassmen might blame me for their interrogations. They’d be looking for excuses to give me lines until they graduated ... unless, of course, they wanted me to make Objects of Power for them. I’d been trying to put together a favour network of my own before the kidnapping. But I’d learnt my lesson about doing that. Rolf wouldn't have lured me out of the school so easily if I hadn't been so desperate to have him and his friends owing me favours.
Maybe they’ll just take it out on Akin or Rose instead, I thought, dragging my attention back to Sir Griffons. Or Alana and Bella.
“We interrogated the upperclassmen who did return, but none of them were involved with the kidnapping,” Sir Griffons said. “Our attempts to search for the victims via magic were largely unsuccessful, even after we obtained a blood sample. We drew a blank until we - finally - got a lead on their location. Afterwards, we discovered that the kidnapped children had managed to escape the concealment wards on their own. We deployed at once and headed east.”
He paused, dramatically. “Even in our armour, it took several days to travel to their location. It was sheer luck that we were able to find them and capture a number of the kidnappers when we finally reached them. The kidnappers clearly didn't expect us, but ... their masters planned well. None of the surviving captives remember anything. Their minds have been wiped clean.”
The Crown Prince leaned forward. “You do not know, then, who was behind the plot?”
“No, Your Highness,” Sir Griffons said, grimly. “We have interrogated the
families of the missing upperclassmen carefully, but none of them have been able to shed any light on the affair. Nor have we been able to determine who trained Fairuza, if indeed Fairuza is her real name. A half-Hangchowese girl should be easy to find, but it’s starting to look as though she wasn't born in Shallot and never attended Jude’s. All the students who might have matched her description have been accounted for.”
I nodded, slowly. Hangchowese were rare in Shallot. Children with only one Hangchowese parent were even rarer. They rarely knew anything about their fathers, which made it harder for them to establish themselves in the city. I’d only met three of them - including Fairuza - in my entire life. It was quite possible that Fairuza had been born and trained outside the country, which meant ...
No wonder the Crown Prince is involved, I told myself. If Fairuza had worked for Galashiels or Balamory instead of one of the Great Houses, all hell might be about to break loose. The kidnapping could have been an act of war.
“They will be found,” the Crown Prince said. I wasn't sure if he was reassuring himself or his audience. “But there is a more important issue. Lady Caitlyn was forced to work for them for three weeks. What did she make for them and what can they do with it?”
Sir Griffons tensed. “There is a full list attached to the briefing notes, Your Highness, but the short answer is that she made them a number of Objects of Power. If handled carefully, they could be used to take over a city - Tintagel, for example. Or they could be used to bring down a Great House. They could certainly cause a great deal of damage in the wrong hands.”
I was suddenly aware of everyone looking at me. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell them that I hadn't had a choice. Fairuza and her allies had forced me to work for them, turning my closest friends into prison wardens. It had taken me too long to plan an escape, but there had been no other way out. What else could I have done?
“The backer might be a commoner, then,” the Crown Prince mused. “Someone who had less reason to fear indiscriminate retribution than a nobleman.”
The crowd started to mutter. They seemed to believe him. I wasn't so sure, myself. A commoner would have plenty of reason to want Objects of Power that could be turned against a Great House - and fewer qualms about kidnapping children from Jude’s - but whoever was behind Fairuza had known a great deal about magic. I doubted Fairuza had volunteered to have her mind wiped, if she fell into enemy hands. No, whoever had hired her - and perhaps trained her - had considered her disposable. They certainly hadn't made any attempt to rescue her.
They may already consider her dead, I thought. If someone loses all of their memories and personality, is anything left of them? Or are they dead?
I shivered, helplessly. I didn't know.
Chapter Four
“That was not pleasant,” Rose said, as we left the courtroom.
I nodded in agreement. There had been a short break for lunch, which had tasted marginally better than ashes, then we’d reassembled in the courtroom and the families of the missing upperclassmen had been hauled in to testify. They’d looked pitiful as they were interrogated, one by one, by the quaestors, who hadn't shown them any deference at all. None of them had known anything about Fairuza, let alone their children’s involvement in a plot against the Great Houses. It made me wonder just how little time they’d had to spend with their children.
“They were just pawns.” Rose sounded pained. “I don’t think they knew what they were getting into.”
“Perhaps not,” I agreed. I found it hard to believe that Rolf and his friends had just thrown away a set of promising careers, but that was exactly what they'd done. They’d be outlaws for the rest of their lives, assuming they weren't already dead. The Kingsmen hadn't found the bodies, but that was meaningless. “And yet they did kidnap us.”
Rose looked as if she wanted to say more, but Dad came over before she could open her mouth. “Cat,” he said. “I need you to accompany me. Sir Griffons will escort Rose back to the school.”
I wanted to argue, but there was no point in trying when Dad was clearly in a bad mood. I didn't really blame him, either. Too many secrets - and things Dad would have preferred to keep quiet - had been openly discussed in the courtroom. I rather suspected that I’d be blamed if - when - the Objects of Power made their reappearance, even though I’d been forced to make them. Great Aunt Stregheria might not be the only person insisting that I be taken into protective custody by the end of the day.
“I’ll see you back in the dorms,” I said to Rose. “We have a lot of catch-up work to do.”
Sir Griffons strode up to us, looking tired. Dad spoke briefly to him, then took my arm and led me through a side door and down a long corridor. The walls were panelled with wood, artfully designed to make it look as though the wood was holding up the ceiling. I suspected that whoever had designed the original building had crafted the outer wall and supporting beams, then worked wood and plaster into the interior to hide its true nature. I’d certainly never heard anything about Magus Court being an Object of Power. I hoped no one would try to dig too far into the walls. Removing even a single concealed gemstone could cause the entire building to collapse.
Something to talk about with Dad, later, I told myself, as we walked up a flight of stairs and into a small tearoom. But we couldn't duplicate it without more Zeroes.
Lord Carioca Rubén was sitting in a comfortable armchair, holding a steaming cup of tea to his lips. Akin sat next to him, looking miserable. I felt a flicker of sympathy, but I didn’t dare try to signal it ... not when his father was so close. I doubted Carioca was happy that Akin and I had become friends. His family and mine had been rivals for far too long.
“Please, be seated,” Carioca said. His voice was very calm. “Akin will pour the tea.”
I glanced at my father, then sat on the smaller chair. Akin moved with easy grace, pouring two cups of tea and passing them to us. Dad made a show of drinking without bothering to check for poison first, something that would have impressed me more if I hadn't known it was very hard to deliberately harm someone in Magus Court. In hindsight, that should have revealed the building’s true nature years ago. The generalised wards necessary to prevent such an unspecific threat practically had to be focused on an Object of Power.
“You answered their questions very well,” Carioca said, once I had taken a sip of my tea. “I don’t think you could have done better.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said, carefully. My tea tasted perfect - milk, a hint of sugar - but I was wary. He hadn't asked us both here to give me compliments. “It was not a pleasant experience.”
“My son will be arguing for his clients one day,” Carioca said, nodding to Akin. “It’s a skill all should learn.”
“Magister Niven will teach you rhetoric later,” Dad said. He was looking at Carioca, his eyes never moving from his rival’s face. “We can train for the courtroom too, if you wish.”
I kept my face under tight control. Carioca was right. The Family Head would spend a lot of time in the courtrooms, supporting his clients. It was a tradition that could not be gainsaid. And yet, it wasn't something I ever wanted to do. I didn't think Akin wanted to do it.
“Your friend definitely requires proper training,” Carioca added. He shot my father an unreadable look. “It would be our honour to arrange it, if she wishes.”
“Rose is one of my clients,” Dad said, stiffly.
“But we owe her too,” Carioca said. Beside him, Akin shifted uncomfortably. “It is a debt that needs to be repaid.”
“She’s young,” Dad said. “And besides, she might need a favour from you one day.”
I saw ... something ... flash across Akin’s face. I thought I understood. In theory, Rose could accept patronage from both families, but - in practice - it would put her in an impossible position. Clients were supposed to support their clients against their rivals ... which side would Rose be on? And what would happen if she failed to support one of her patrons?
Better
to have them repay her in some other form, I thought. A gift, perhaps ...
“She might,” Carioca said. It took me a moment to realise that he was answering Dad’s point. “But I would prefer to repay the favour as soon as possible. Perhaps she would appreciate marriage to a young man of good standing ...?”
He looked at me. I frowned.
“Rose is not going to be old enough to marry for five years, sir,” I said. “It’s far too early to be talking about her marriage.”
Particularly as she isn’t here, I added, silently. I’d always known that my marriage would be discussed heavily by my parents before I was even consulted - if anyone wanted to marry a magic-less girl - but Rose had grown up in a different world. She might not want to even consider marrying a stranger.
I forced myself to consider it. Carioca was in a good position to arrange a very advantageous match for Rose, perhaps to a husband who would boost her social standing ... there were girls I knew who would have traded one of their eyes for such an offer. But the marriage might well come with a sting in the tail ... and, in any case, Rose was far too young to even think about getting married. It could wait.
The Zero Equation Page 4