The Zero Equation

by Christopher Nuttall

  Unless they simply didn't care, I thought. Who takes over the house if all the adults - save one - are dead?

  Akin took a potions bottle from the medical kit and pressed it against his father’s mouth. Carioca Rubén convulsed violently, coughing loudly as his body tried to expel the sleeping potion. I was torn between hoping that he’d wake up and fearing what would happen if he did ... Carioca might be in the same boat as everyone else, but would he see it that way? I wasn't sure I wanted to know. Alana tossed me a bottle and pointed to Dad. I sighed, knelt down beside him and administered the potion. Dad showed no obvious reaction.

  Crap, I thought. He must have swallowed a higher dose.

  Jeannine walked over to me, looking pale. “That’s my mother over there,” she said, pointing to an older woman who could have been Great Aunt Stregheria’s twin. Her skin was white, but her cheekbones were permanently set in an expression of sour disapproval. “Should we be trying to wake her too?”

  “If you think she can help,” I said. I looked around the hall, quickly counting the unconscious bodies. There were nearly two hundred men and women lying on the ground, practically everyone who was anyone in Shallot. I felt a flicker of sullen admiration, mingled with fear. The Crown Prince had made a clean sweep of everyone who could organise resistance. “But if she can't, leave her be. We don’t have enough potion for everyone.”

  I thought, fast, as I paced the room. We might have made a tactical mistake in moving to the Great Hall. The hostages were unlikely to be in any fit state to help for hours, if not days, while the Great Hall itself would be very hard to defend. We needed to move them, yet ... where would we take them? And how? I didn't think we could get levitate them all through the wards before it was too late. Those guards would definitely be back with reinforcements soon. The logical step was to abandon the hostages and go elsewhere, while we still could, but I didn't want to do that. It would be leaving my parents behind. They’d be helpless.

  Carioca Rubén coughed, again, then sat upright. His blond hair was damp with sweat, his hands were shaking ... his fine robes looked thoroughly unclean. He looked up, his blue eyes meeting mine for a long second. Oddly, I found it a little reassuring. He might be my father’s sworn enemy - and his family might be my family’s sworn enemy - but I would never be scared of him again. I wondered, as he glanced at Akin, what he was thinking. He’d already seen the sword at Akin’s belt.

  He had to struggle to speak. “What happened?”

  “Father,” Akin said. “The Crown Prince has taken over the school.”

  He gabbled out an explanation, including a brief outline of Isabella’s involvement, while his father fought to stand upright, declining all offers of help. I was grudgingly impressed, even though Carioca looked as though he was constantly on the verge of toppling back over again. He was a strong magician, after all ... fear ran down my spine as he looked at my father’s prone body. My sweaty fingers gripped the spellcaster. If he made one move towards Dad, I’d blast him and take whatever consequences came my way. Akin would hate me forever ...

  ... But at least my father would be alive.

  “I should have listened to your mother, boy,” Carioca said. He sounded rueful rather than angry. “She thought the peace conference was too good to be true.”

  Jeannine coughed, lightly. “We need help, sir. We’re trapped here.”

  Carioca looked at the five doors and winced. “This place will be impossible to defend,” he said, as he staggered slightly. Akin caught him before he could lose his balance completely and hit the ground. “But you might be able to hold it for a while.”

  “We need help,” I said. “Do you have any ideas?”

  Carioca looked at me, then at Akin, then at me again. “There’s a company of armsmen not too far away, hopefully keeping their heads down,” he said. “I wasn't that trusting” - his smile grew sharper - “and your father wasn't that trusting either. If we can get to them, we can convince them to help.”

  I frowned. If Carioca was telling the truth ... I told myself, sharply, that he had no reason to lie. Not now. We could run to the armsmen, if we could get past the wards, but the Crown Prince would have every chance to recapture the hostages. No, we needed the armsmen to storm the school. And that meant we had to hold out until they arrived.

  “You’re the only person they’ll listen to,” I said. “You’ll have to fetch them ...”

  “Our armsmen won’t listen to him,” Alana said. “I’ll have to go with him.”

  “Yeah,” Bella said. “It had better be her.”

  “Ouch,” I said. Alana was the Heir Primus, but that didn't give her any real power. She was only twelve. Whoever was in charge of the armsmen might only be minor family, yet he’d outrank her until she had her Season. But we didn't have any other options. “Be careful.”

  “I will,” Alana promised.

  “But how do we get them through the wards?” Akin said. He touched the sword. “Can I break them ...?”

  “Don’t try,” his father snapped. “If you are wrong, the feedback might destroy both you and the sword.”

  I cursed under my breath. If we took out a wardstone ... no, we’d never get near the wardstones. I knew where they were, but so did Great Aunt Stregheria. I was morbidly sure of it. Finding a wardstone wasn't hard if you knew what to do. By now, each of the wardstones would be surrounded by armed troops. Getting to them, let alone destroying them, would be difficult.

  A thought stuck me. “Jeannine, go with them,” I said. “Take the amulet with you. When you reach the outer edge of the wards, use it to weaken the magic. It won’t last long, but it should get you over the walls.”

  Akin gave me a sharp look. “Are you sure it will work?”

  “No,” I said. I tried not to think about using Whirlpool. My bag felt heavier with every passing second. “But it’s the best I can think of, right now.”

  “Good thinking,” Carioca said. He held out a hand to Jeannine. “Shall we go?”

  Alana nodded. I saw a complicated series of emotions flittering over her face. She knew what she had to do, yet ... she was nervous. Walking outside in the company of our house’s sworn enemy ... it was brave of her. I wasn't sure I could do it, even with my protections. There was more than one way to hurt someone and I was fairly sure that Carioca Rubén knew most of them. But then, Akin wasn't a bad guy. Perhaps the horror stories I’d heard about his family were just stories.

  “If you see your sister,” Carioca said to Akin, “tell her ... tell her that I am very disappointed in her.”

  I fought down a giggle. And to think I’d thought my father had a gift for understatement!

  “We need to move,” Alana said. “Um ... sir?”

  “Coming,” Carioca said.

  I watched them go, then started organising the defence. There were enough of us, barely, to man all the possible entrances and cover the hostages. I detailed half of us to watch the entrances, while ordering the other half to move the hostages under the tables. It would provide at least some protection, I hoped. The hostages moaned and groaned, but didn't wake up. Bella administered our remaining doses of purgative to the hostages we thought were most likely to be useful, yet none of them started to wake up. I wondered, grimly, if we’d been tricked. What if Carioca Rubén was secretly on Great Aunt Stregheria’s side?

  That’s absurd, I told myself. I was being paranoid, nothing more. But ... the thought refused to leave. Isabella might have been working under her father’s orders, instead of deliberately choosing to betray her own family. And Akin ... no, I was just being paranoid. Akin had had plenty of opportunities to stop our escape plan dead. I’m going to have to count on our family’s sworn enemy to get us out of here.

  I giggled, helplessly. Rose raised an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”

  “I’ll explain later,” I said. “Help me move ...”

  “They’re coming,” an upperclassman snapped. “I can see them!”

  “Take cover,” I
warned. The firsties with protective bracelets should be fine, if they were hexed, but the others were vulnerable. And I wasn't sure what spell Isabella had used against me, back in the workroom. The dispeller should counter it, if I could locate it ... I gritted my teeth in bitter annoyance. Not knowing what it was or what it did made it harder to plan countermeasures. “Don’t let them get close enough to cast spells into the chamber.”

  The lights flickered, dimming sharply. A lone crystal light exploded, pieces of shattered glass falling to the ground. I heard a low hum echoing through the school, my hair tying to stand on end, just for a second, as the wards tried to realign themselves. Rose gripped her forehead in pain, clenching her fists to keep from crying out. Others seemed to have the same problem. Great Aunt Stregheria was trying to play games with the wards.

  Good luck with that, I thought, as the hum slowly died away. Magister Von Rupert and I had worked hard, but the school’s wards were nowhere near as flexible as a Great House’s protections. The only reason the soldiers hadn't attacked us while we were in pain, I suspected, was that they were in pain too. I almost giggled at the irony. Your House War damaged the school’s wards so badly that you cannot turn them against us.

  Akin didn't seem to be in any pain, but I noticed he was clutching the sword’s hilt so tightly his knuckles had turned white. Bella was rubbing her forehead, while Gayle and John both looked irritated. Rose was naturally strong in magic, strong enough to be offered a scholarship despite her lack of formal training. Perhaps the stronger the magician, the greater the effect ...

  “Father will be back soon,” Akin said. He sounded as though he was trying to convince himself. Carioca Rubén was a powerful magician, but he’d been in no state for a fight when he’d left. If he’d been caught trying to escape, we were doomed. “Even if he just brings our armsmen ...”

  I nodded. House Rubén’s armsmen were supposed to be good. I didn't think they were better than our armsmen, or the Kingsmen, but as long as they helped us I didn't mind. We were desperate, too desperate to care about who helped us. One way or the other, things would have to change. The House War could not be allowed to restart.

  And then a booming voice echoed through the chamber.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “ATTENTION.” It was a male voice, but it didn't sound like the Crown Prince. Someone was projecting his voice from the other side of the doors. “YOU ARE SURROUNDED, OUTNUMBERED AND TRAPPED. COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP AND YOU WILL LIVE.”

  I shook my head, automatically. The voice might be right. We might well be surrounded, outnumbered and trapped. But if we surrendered, we’d go straight back into custody and the Crown Prince would have a chance to put his plan back on track. I couldn't take the risk of letting them recapture me. Great Aunt Stregheria would make sure - this time - that I wouldn’t even have an inch of freedom. Or simply decide I was too much trouble to keep around and cut my throat.

  No, she won’t do that, I thought. She’ll drop me in an oubliette instead.

  Akin drew the sword. The chamber filled with pearly radiance. “We will never surrender,” he shouted. His voice boomed in the silence. Somehow, it seemed almost natural. “We will fight 'til our last breath!”

  I glanced at him, alarmed. Was that him talking? Or was it the sword?

  “BE REASONABLE,” the voice said. “WE CAN KEEP POURING MEN INTO THE CHAMBER UNTIL YOU ARE OVERWHELMED AND KILLED. SURRENDER AND YOU WILL LIVE.”

  “No,” Akin said.

  There was a long moment of silence. I wondered, morbidly, just what sort of discussions the Crown Prince and Great Aunt Stregheria were having, somewhere on the other side of the walls. They needed the hostages alive, which limited the types of spells they could throw at us. If they hadn't realised that Carioca Rubén had sneaked out of the school, they might even think they could starve us out. We were surrounded by food, but we didn't dare touch it. And yet ... time wasn't on their side. They had to secure the hostages before the surviving members of the Great Houses realised that the hostages were no longer in their custody.

  “Here they come!” an upperclassman shouted.

  I gritted my teeth, lifting my spellcaster as a column of men, two abreast, appeared at one end of the corridor and charged us. The first couple were frozen instantly, successors shoving them to the floor or tripping over them. I giggled, an instant before some of the frozen men were picked up and used as human shields. There was no point in freezing the same men over and over again. They got far too close before we managed to freeze them all.

  One of the upperclassmen stepped forward and cast a spell, directing a gust of powerful wind down the corridor. Portraits were ripped off the walls, flying backwards and crashing into enemy positions; statues toppled, hitting the floor and shattering into thousands of pieces. The frozen enemy troopers were pushed back by the wind, banging their heads into walls as they moved. I felt a moment of pity, even though I knew the freeze spells kept them from actually feeling anything. Their only real crime was following their liege lord into treason.

  I heard the sound of hexes behind me and turned, just in time to see the enemy push another attack forward. The defenders, led by Bella, fought back savagely, but the enemy got very close before they were finally forced to retreat. I glanced at Akin, my eyes narrowing as I thought I saw two Akins looking back at me. One, my friend, looked nervous; the other, a hardened warrior, had a glint in his eye I didn't like. The sword’s influence was slowly seeping into Akin’s very soul.

  There was a long pause. I wondered, as pieces of debris fell in the distance, just how many soldiers the Crown Prince had under his command. It would be difficult for him to bring an entire army to bear on the Great Hall - there just wasn't enough room in the corridor - but his men had already thought of using their own as human shields. Given time, they’d get further and further down the corridor ... and, eventually, burst into the Great Hall. I glanced at my father and winced. Even if he woke up now, it would be a long time before he could cast any spells.

  “They’re regrouping and preparing a second attack,” Akin said. Even his voice was different; older, graver ... darker. “I can feel them.”

  I looked at him for a long moment, trying to decide if I should tell him to put down the sword. It was dangerous, yet ... it was also the only true weapon at our disposal. We needed it. And if I did tell him to put it down and he refused, what then? Akin wasn't entirely in his right mind any longer. He was a child. The sword was designed to be worn and wielded by a grown man. I remembered touching my family’s sword and shivered. If I could be overwhelmed, what stopped him from being overwhelmed?

  Nothing, I thought.

  The second attack began while I was still trying to come up with an answer. This time, the enemy used the walls as cover while they hurled hexes down the corridors and into the Great Hall. Most of them missed - or exploded uselessly against my protections - but that didn't make them harmless. I had a nasty feeling that the spell Isabella had used was woven into one or more of the spells aimed at us, unseen while it did its dirty work. Akin jumped forward, holding the sword in front of him. It glowed so brightly that the rest of the chamber seemed dark.

  “Come at me,” he growled. “If you dare.”

  I flinched. That wasn't Akin’s voice. And yet ... he stood in the doorway, the sword flashing brilliantly as it defected hex after hex. Most of them expended themselves on the stone walls, which were starting to look a little pitted, but a handful were redirected back down towards the enemy positions. I heard someone cry out in pain and felt a flash of vindictive glee. Served him right.

  Rose nudged me as the attack slowly came to an end and nodded toward Akin. “Is he alright?”

  “No,” I said. I tried to think of possible options, but nothing came to mind. I’d just have to hope I could talk him down, afterwards. “Keep an eye on him.”

  A handful of hexes shot past us, a faint splatter compared to the torrent they’d unleashed upon us a few moments ago. I
allowed myself a moment to imagine their spellcasters overloading and exploding, then reached for my spectacles and looked around suspiciously. There was so much raw magic in the chamber that it took me a few seconds to see the spellforms, going to work in the rear of the room. I couldn't help being impressed by the spells, even though I knew they were deadly. They were steadily draining the oxygen from the chamber ...

  That must have been what Isabella did to me, I thought, as I used the dispeller to remove the spells. She used hexes she knew were useless to distract me while the real threat went to work.

  It was a clever idea, although I could see some limitations. It would only be really useful in a confined space. And someone with a strong sensitivity to magic would probably be able to sense the spellforms, even if they couldn't see them. But it had worked. I wondered, absently, if Great Aunt Stregheria had invented it. She had been a notable Charms Mistress in her day. And it was precisely the kind of nasty trick she’d like.

  “Watch for covert spells,” I shouted, as the attack began again. “They’re trying to drain our air!”