The Zero Equation

by Christopher Nuttall

  It was a tempting thought. Dad had once told me that conspirators were rarely honourable men. There was certainly no such thing as honour among thieves. Great Aunt Stregheria and the Crown Prince might be plotting to betray each other already. Or ... maybe they did have something keeping them together. It wasn't as if either of them could expect any mercy now.

  “I’ll go see the others, the ones in the lower potions lab,” Jeannine said. I looked up to see a smile playing over her lips. “They couldn't get into Magistra Loanda’s storeroom.”

  “Good,” I said. “Tell them to give their oaths too. We don’t know who can be trusted.”

  I watched her go, feeling an odd twinge of disappointment. Magistra Loanda could have layered layer after layer of wards over her stockpiles and the dispeller - my dispeller - would have wiped them all away. Great Aunt Stregheria should have thought of it. Had she reasoned that my dispeller worked like a standard dispeller and would be destroyed if it was used on powerful wards? Or had she decided to keep the dispeller and its powers to herself?

  Putting the thought aside, I started to gather components and carry them into a private workroom while the others guarded the entrances. I didn't know how long I’d have to work, but I should have enough time to come up with something. And then there was Whirlpool ...

  John entered, looking grim. “There’re ships in the bay and fires all over the city,” he said, once we’d checked to make sure he hadn't been put under a geas. “I think they’re bringing the troops in now.”

  “That was quick,” Akin said. “Where were they?”

  I looked at him. “How long were you in the dorm after the explosion?”

  “Several hours,” Akin said. Alana nodded in agreement. “They probably just dispatched the ships a few days ago.”

  I shrugged. It was possible, I supposed. Risky, but possible. Technically, ships had free passage as long as they didn't enter territorial waters, yet ... the navy wouldn't hesitate to intercept a convoy if they suspected there was something fishy about it. Dad had grumbled, often enough, about the navy throwing its weight around in distant waters. But then, harassing Shallot’s shipping was a great deal less risky than making life difficult for North Cairnbulg.

  But at least I wasn't asleep for more than a few hours, I thought. She probably didn't use a potion to drug me, then.

  “I assume you tried to signal the Great Houses,” Alana said. “Did you get any response?”

  “None,” John said. “But the wards are very definitely up. Getting out of the school may be impossible.”

  Unless we had a wardcracker, I thought. And I could make one ...

  I froze as a nasty thought occurred to me. Fires all over the city ... our walls were charmed to quench fires, whenever they raged out of control. No one wanted another Great Fire of Shallot, particularly now. Even the poorer districts had charmed walls and firemen on call at all times. If fires were burning out of control now, those charms had to have been destroyed.

  “So, we need to locate our parents,” Akin said, practically. “They might be able to help us get out of the school.”

  “If they’re in any state to help us,” Alana said. She nodded to one of the worktables. “They might all be wearing spellcollars by now.”

  “No,” Bella said, quietly.

  I shuddered. The thought of my father wearing a spellcollar ... Great Aunt Stregheria was going to pay, I promised myself. I’d do whatever it took to make her pay. The pieces in my bag suddenly felt very heavy. I could put them together ...

  “Stay here,” I said. “If the others don’t get back soon, we’ll have to leave and search the school ourselves.”

  “Understood,” Akin said.

  The workroom felt oddly quiet as I stepped inside. I glanced around, just to be sure that no one was hiding in a corner, then took the components out of my bag. The pieces didn't look particularly fancy - more like advanced clockwork than pieces of an Object of Power - but ... my fingers seemed to skitter over the metalwork anyway. It puzzled me. The spellform shouldn't have manifested, not yet. I checked, just to be sure, then carefully started to put the pieces together. Whirlpool slowly took shape under my fingers.

  It was smaller than one might have expected, for something that was effectively an ultimate weapon. A combination of spinning discs, each one glittering with silver runes, neatly fitted together into a clockwork monstrosity. It was little bigger than my head, smaller than the Object of Power I’d used to produce the flying machine. And yet… and yet, the sense of anticipation grew stronger as I fitted the pieces together. Whirlpool practically wanted to be used.

  Not yet, I thought. Perhaps not ever.

  The final piece slotted into place. There was a flash of blinding light as the spellform manifested. I reached for a hammer, ready to smash the Object of Power if it started to work without permission. It crossed my mind, about a second too late, that I might have made a mistake. I wouldn't sense it draining the magic ... although I supposed it would plunge the room into darkness when the crystal lights failed. By then, everyone for miles around would have sensed the sudden change in the magic field, even if they didn't know what had caused it. Or, for that matter, what had actually happened.

  The Empire plunged into war, I reminded myself. The Thousand-Year Empire should have survived the loss of the Eternal City, but all the history books agreed that the empire had ripped itself apart in civil war. Did the shock of feeling the magic field twist drive them insane?

  I swallowed, hard, as I looked down at Whirlpool. It looked harmless. Someone might easily mistake it for a clockwork device, as long as they didn't look too closely. The spellform was so understated that I could barely see it through the spectacles. A magician might doubt it was even there. And yet, there was something about Whirlpool that disturbed even me. It was like staring at a spider, staring at something completely alien ... Whirlpool wanted to be used. I was sure of it.

  “I should destroy you,” I muttered, as if Whirlpool was an intelligent creature in its own right. It was absurd - none of the reliable stories about legendary Objects of Power had talked about them being intelligent - and yet, I couldn't escape the feeling. I was looking into the darkness ... and the darkness was looking back at me. “And yet, I can't destroy you.”

  I checked the runes obsessively as I carefully - very carefully - returned Whirlpool to my bag. Tyros and his friends hadn't bothered to include any limiters, when they’d crafted their version of Whirlpool, but I had. The onrush of magic would trigger off a corrosion process that would eventually destroy the Object of Power. Or so I thought. Objects of Power were supposed to be able to handle vast amounts of magic. In many ways, Whirlpool had more in common with a Device of Power. And yet, only a Zero could hope to forge it.

  That’s a good thing, I told myself firmly, as I headed for the door. My bag felt heavier, somehow, even though I hadn't put anything else in there. There won’t be any more.

  Outside, there was a quiet argument going on between Akin, Alana, and a grim-faced upperclassman. I looked from one face to the other, then sighed. We didn't have time for an argument over who was in charge.

  “Cat,” Akin said. “The good news is that we’ve found the parents. They’re in the Great Hall.”

  “The bad news is that they’re under heavy guard,” the upperclassman said, grimly. “There are soldiers outside each of the entrances. We couldn't find a secret passage that leads into the Great Hall.”

  I nodded. The Great Hall had been purpose-built, once upon a time. There simply wasn't room for a secret passage, hidden in the walls. Even if there was ... what purpose would it serve? It wasn't somewhere people needed to walk unseen.

  Not until now, at least, I thought. And there’s no way we can sneak inside.

  “We’ll have to force our way through,” I said. It wouldn't be easy. Great Aunt Stregheria and the Crown Prince might have ordered their men to search the school for us, but they wouldn't have drawn down the guard on the hostag
es too far. If we freed our parents - and if our parents were in any state to fight - the battle would be over. “And we have to take everything we need with us.”

  “Oh,” the upperclassman said. “And who put you in charge, firstie?”

  Akin touched the sword on his belt. “I did,” he said, allowing the upperclassman to see the glowing gemstone. “Does that answer your question?”

  The upperclassman looked irked, but nodded curtly. I allowed myself a moment of relief, then turned to Jeannine. “We’ll take all the emergency kits with us,” I said. “Strip the potions workroom bare of anything that might be useful. And hurry.”

  Jeannine nodded and walked away. I glanced at the unfinished spellcollars and winced. If Great Aunt Stregheria had put them on our parents, they were likely to be forced to fight against us. Stopping them wouldn't be easy, particularly as none of us wanted to actually hurt them. I might have to fire up Whirlpool just to destroy the collars, despite the risk of bringing down the entire building. And then ...

  I swallowed. If we got out of this alive, I was going to experiment somewhere very far from civilisation. Maybe Dad would let me move to one of the northern islands. There were places that only had one or two inhabitants, places where no one would be hurt if I accidentally twisted the local magic field out of shape. Or ... maybe I could just go to one of our country estates. They were quite some distance from the nearest town.

  Rose touched my arm. “Are you okay?”

  “No,” I said. Even if we did get out of this alive, Whirlpool was going to dominate my thoughts until the day I died. We might win a battle, but bring down civilisation in the process. Better to destroy it - and my notes - as soon as the battle was over. “Too much has happened too quickly.”

  “Take a long holiday afterwards,” Rose advised. “They’re going to have to rebuild the school, aren't they?”

  I winced. Jude’s was over a thousand years old. And Great Aunt Stregheria had shattered the school’s reputation for neutrality and safety. Whatever happened, nothing was going to be the same again.

  “Yeah,” I said. “They’re going to have to rebuild the school.”

  “Come on,” Akin snapped. “We have to move.”

  I nodded. It would only be a matter of time before Great Aunt Stregheria realised that the workroom was no longer under her control. And then ... she’d have to search the school from top to bottom as quickly as possible. Thankfully, that wouldn't be easy unless she had a small army under her command. Jude’s was just too poorly designed - and the wards too old - for anything less to search the entire building properly.

  The Crown Prince does have a small army under his command, I reminded myself. They might be searching the school already.

  “Coming,” I said. I nodded to Rose, who moved slightly in front of me. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  It was clear, as we made our way up through the hidden passageways, that the Crown Prince was fully aware some of us had escaped. We could hear heavy footsteps crashing around as the soldiers tried to track down and capture some of the escapees, hopefully including upperclassmen who might be able to defend themselves without Objects of Power. They would know the school, I told myself. They would be able to put up a real fight. I didn't think they’d be able to hold out forever, but they might just buy us some time. Great Aunt Stregheria would not be able to search the school for us while she was stamping out a rebellion.

  “We have to get out here,” Jeannine muttered. “There are no closer entrances to the Great Hall.”

  I tensed, cursing the school’s designers - insofar as the school had had designers - under my breath. Would it have killed them to include a secret passage that led directly to the Great Hall? But they probably hadn't imagined any need for such a passage. No one had really grasped that the empire was gone, back in those days. Jude’s had certainly never been planned as a comprehensive school of magic. The original buildings would have been far larger if the designers had realised what they would have to do.

  “Go,” I muttered.

  Akin took the lead, throwing himself out of the entrance. He kept one hand on the sword’s hilt, ready to draw it at a moment’s notice. Hexes flew at him at once, flashing out of existence as they touched his body. The bracelet was protecting him. Jeannine let out a gasp, then stepped back to allow Alana, Bella and Rose to follow Akin. It must have galled her to let the firsties do the fighting, but she had no choice. Her amulet was nowhere near as versatile as the bracelets. I hefted my own spellcaster and dived after the others, trying to stay low. A pair of soldiers were running towards me, waving their spellcasters frantically. I froze them both before it was too late.

  “Get them all,” Alana shouted. She was standing in the middle of the corridor, surrounded by a haze of green light. Hexes were striking her constantly, to no avail. She almost seemed to be having fun as she sprayed hexes back at her opponents, who were dropping like flies. And yet, they were trained. The unfrozen ones were rapidly unfreezing the frozen ones, even as they were targeted themselves. “Hurry!”

  I nodded to Rose, then ran towards the main entrance. Grown men blinked in surprise, then cast a stream of hexes and curses towards me. My bracelet grew hot enough to burn my skin - again - as I froze them, waving the spellcaster around frantically. A couple of their spellcasters, unable to stand the pace, exploded, nearly killing their wielders. I felt sick as I saw a man fall to his knees, his hand a bloody stump. I froze him. It was the only thing I could do.

  And then, suddenly, we were the only ones moving. The floor was littered with frozen soldiers. The upperclassmen moved amongst them, picking up discarded spellcasters and searching their belts for anything useful. I hoped they knew to be careful. My spellcasters didn't explode, but overusing theirs would be bad. The sound of clattering feet heading away from us echoed down the corridor. I glanced at Akin, sharing a silent thought. They were retreating now, but they’d come back with reinforcements.

  And they’ll know what they’re facing, I thought. We’d caught them by surprise - once. Next time, it wouldn't be so easy. We have to get inside.

  The Great Hall was locked, of course. I drew my dispeller and pressed it against the charmed latch, idly wondering if Great Aunt Stregheria would have used a physical lock as well as a sealing charm. The spell snapped out of existence, allowing me to force open the door. I recoiled in shock, a moment later, as I saw what had become of the hostages. They were ...

  I swallowed, hard. “Don’t touch the food.”

  The hostages - I looked from face to face, desperately trying to find my parents - were lying unconscious on the floor, clearly drugged. Behind them, the tables were laden with food - largely untouched food. The guards hadn't taken advantage of the chance to eat, I saw, which was all too revealing. They knew that touching the food would be a very bad idea. And yet ... I couldn’t understand how Great Aunt Stregheria had done it. Dinner with the Crown Prince or not, Dad wouldn’t forget to check the food for potion. Quite a few Patriarchs had met untimely ends after eating poisoned food ...

  I looked at the plates and felt my heart sink, again. I knew how the trick had been done, even though I had no proof. If I was right, there wouldn't be proof. Great Aunt Stregheria had sprinkled an uncompleted potion into the soup, relying on the guests to trigger the magic themselves when they swallowed. I’d done the same trick myself, to Alana. Had I somehow given Great Aunt Stregheria the idea? Or ... had she come up with it herself? Perhaps I wasn't the first person to think of it after all.

  “Mum,” Alana shouted. “She’s over here!”

  I followed her, jumping over a pile of bodies. A handful had faint stains around their mouths, suggesting they’d had enough time to try to force themselves to vomit up the potion. It certainly hadn’t been enough to save them. I heard Akin shout behind me - he’d found his parents too - but I barely paid any attention. I needed to see my parents.

  Dad looked ... weaker, somehow. He was still a big man, y
et ... he seemed smaller. His breathing came in ragged gasps. I wondered, grimly, if he’d eaten too much soup and overdosed on the potion. Great Aunt Stregheria hadn't had any way to gauge the dose. Beside him, Mum looked frail. She’d been one of the handful who’d tried to vomit up the potion before it was too late. Great Aunt Stregheria had probably laughed at her. The city’s foremost Potions Mistress, brought down by a simple trick.

  “We need a purgative,” Akin shouted. He was kneeling beside his father, desperately trying to turn the bigger man onto his side. “They’re all at risk of choking!”

  I gritted my teeth, then took a firm hold of Dad’s arm and pulled. He might have looked smaller, somehow, but he was still huge. I had to struggle to turn him onto his side, even with Alana helping. Mum, thankfully, turned easily. I glanced at them both, then moved from body to body. Their captors hadn't realised that there was a very real risk of the hostages choking on their own vomit.