The Zero Equation

by Christopher Nuttall

  The battle grew nastier as the enemy mounted attack after attack, only to be beaten off and given a chance to recover while we had to remain on the alert at all times. Akin didn’t seem to be tiring, but everyone else was feeling the strain. Sweat ran down my back as I jabbed my spellcaster time and time again, silently relieved that my spellcasters didn't overload. It felt like we’d been fighting for hours ...

  ... And then a dull rumble echoed down the corridor. I blinked in surprise, convinced - just for a second - that the wall had come loose and was advancing towards us. But no, it was just a giant shield, pushed by a team of soldiers and absorbing our hexes as they approached. I cursed under my breath, using words I would never have normally dared say anywhere near my mother. It was a neat, but effective way of cancelling out our advantages.

  Akin started towards it, sword glowing. “I’ll deal with it!”

  “Stay back,” I snapped at him. “I’ve got an idea!”

  He glared at me - no, the sword glared at me. His face was so twisted that I knew it wasn't him any longer. Someone - something - was using his body as a puppet. And it wasn't completely on our side.

  My skin crawled as I turned my back, half-expecting to feel the blade slice me in half. But nothing happened. I picked up two of the captured spellcasters and quickly altered their runes with my tools, then threw them forward, over the advancing shield. Moments later, the spellcasters exploded, sending a wave of raw magic out in all directions. A man staggered back, his body already warping out of shape ... I felt a flash of guilt. What had I done?

  The remnants of the shield crumbled to dust, revealing a set of armoured men charging towards us. They were carrying wooden staffs, not swords or spellcasters. I puzzled over it for a second, then swore out loud as Akin hurled himself towards them. The sword’s glow seemed to take on a hungry look as he lashed out at them, the blade cutting though their staffs and armour as though they were made of paper. I heard him - no, it wasn't him - laughing as he cut the men to pieces. I felt sick. They didn't stand a chance ...

  ... And Akin ... Akin looked as though he intended to charge the rest of them.

  “Akin,” I shouted, desperately. “Come back!”

  He turned with blinding speed, the sword glowing so brightly that I was almost blinded by the light. “You do not give me orders, wrench,” he growled, as he stamped back towards me. His gait was that of an older man. “I am in charge!”

  I held myself steady, despite an overpowering urge to turn and run. I had the feeling that showing the slightest hint of weakness would be a very bad idea. Rose said something, behind me, but I barely heard her. I was focused on Akin’s eyes. His face was different, somehow, yet the eyes were the same ...

  “Put the sword down,” I told him. “You can’t control it.”

  “Shut up, wrench,” Akin growled. “I ...”

  He lifted the blade, as if he was going to take a swing at me. I had an instant to wonder if I’d miscalculated, then he staggered and practically pushed the blade into the floor. It sliced through the wood and stone like a hot knife through butter, the gemstone growing brighter as the blade itself dimmed. Akin was fighting the sword, but it was trying to fight back.

  “I will not be beaten by you,” Akin growled, glaring at the sword. His face twisted, slowly returning to normal. “I will not be your slave.”

  His voice grew louder. “Obey me!”

  The sword seemed to flicker in his hand. Akin let out a long breath, then slowly returned it to the scabbard. His face was damp with sweat. I saw fear in his eyes as he looked at me. He knew how close he’d come to allowing the sword to cut me in two.

  “I ...”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I told him. “I touched a Family Sword too, once upon a time.”

  Akin took a long breath. “It just ... it just wanted me to give in to it,” he said. “And it had been helping.”

  “It’s alright,” I said. Dad had given me a long lecture, the night after Alana had goaded me into touching the sword. His words had had more impact than any punishment. An adult - a strong adult - could handle the sword. Anyone else risked being overwhelmed. “Just ... don’t touch it for a while.”

  “I convinced it to obey me,” Akin said. But he made no move to draw the sword. “I ... I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said, again. “You didn't kill me.”

  I looked around, suddenly aware that everyone was looking at us ... and that the enemy attacks had stopped. I hoped that was a good sign. I could see quite a few frozen men within eyesight, utterly unable to move. And yet ... was the Crown Prince really on the verge of running out of troops? He’d brought thousands of troops to Shallot. I doubted we’d frozen more than a hundred, if that.

  Akin ran his hand through his sweaty hair. “Father isn't back.”

  I nodded, grimly. I could be wrong, but I didn't think Carioca Rubén would have to go very far to find his armsmen. House Rubén owned a number of properties close to Jude’s, any one of which would make for a good staging post. My family owned a couple too. Alana might not know where they were, but Carioca certainly would. And they hadn't come back ... I didn't like the implications. Either they hadn't been able to get out of the school ...

  ... Or they couldn't get back in.

  “They’re regrouping,” Bella said. “What do we do?”

  I tried to think. There was no sign of help arriving. Nor were the slowly-recovering hostages in any state to fight. And we were being worn down, piece by piece. Several of the upperclassmen had already been stunned, stunned so badly that even the dispeller hadn't been able to wake them. It wouldn't be long before tiredness brought us down ...

  “We need to bring down the wards,” I said. “And ... and we need to stop the Crown Prince.”

  I met Akin’s eyes. “They were trying to turn the wards against us,” I said. “And Great Aunt Stregheria wouldn’t share that sort of power with anyone. She has to be in the central wardchamber.”

  Akin nodded. “But how do we get there?”

  “I know how to get there,” I said. “We just have to get out of here.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Bella said. “They’ve got all the exits covered.”

  I grinned. Bella was right, from her point of view. But I was used to thinking of solutions that didn't include magic. Or, sometimes, that involved going 'round a problem rather than hitting it head-on.

  “We’re going to go down,” I said. “Akin can cut through the floor. We drop down into the lower passageways, then hurry straight to the wardchamber.”

  “Clever,” Akin said. He grasped the sword’s hilt, then hesitated. It was clear he didn't want to draw it. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  “I hope so,” I said. I thought the sword had accepted Akin as its master, but there was no way to be sure. It was designed to influence whoever wielded it, turning them into a better swordmaster. But it also made them more inclined to use the sword. “Do it.”

  Akin drew the sword, once more. The sword seemed somehow dimmed as he cut a circle in the floor, which promptly plunged downwards as soon as it was cut. A loud crash echoed up, reminding me - too late - that we had no idea what was underneath us. Akin held the blade up, allowing me to see a simple stone floor. It was empty. I smiled, grimly, then looked at Bella.

  “Hold this place as long as possible,” I said. I hoped it wouldn't be the last time I’d see my sister. Both of my sisters. I wanted to get to know their new selves. “And don’t let them win.”

  “I’ll try,” Bella said. She sounded tired, but grimly determined. “Rose will stay with me.”

  I glanced at Rose, who nodded. Akin returned the sword to the scabbard, then sat down on the edge of the hole and dropped down to the next level. Dust billowed up from where he landed. I drew in a breath, then dropped down next to him. Mum probably wouldn't care that my dress clothes had been completely ruined, given everything else that had happened over the last few hours. It felt
like we’d been fighting for days.

  We made our way through the darkness slowly, heading straight for the wardchamber. I was silently grateful we’d spent so long exploring the school because, without a general sense of the layout, we would have been hopelessly lost. It was still hard, very hard, to find the chamber again. I suspected that there were a handful of misdirection charms placed around the chamber that I hadn't noticed, the last time I visited. Magister Von Rupert would not have discussed those with me.

  I tensed as we reached the door and peered inside. Great Aunt Stregheria was standing by the Object of Power, examining the various Devices of Power that surrounded it; the Crown Prince was pacing the room, one hand permanently on the sword at his belt. And Isabella, looking like a whipped dog, was sitting by the side of the chamber. It didn't look as though Great Aunt Stregheria had been very understanding, when she’d finally heard what Isabella had done. There was a very nasty bruise on Isabella’s cheek and her left arm was hanging uselessly. I rather suspected that Great Aunt Stregheria had taken her anger out on the younger girl.

  Akin breathed out a curse ...

  ... And Isabella looked up and saw us.

  She screamed. “They’re here!”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “Caitlyn,” Great Aunt Stregheria said. I thought I saw desperation in her eyes. “What a ... pleasant surprise.”

  I donned my spectacles. Great Aunt Stregheria was protected by a complicated set of wards, which she had somehow tied into the Devices of Power. She was drawing power directly from the Object of Power and channelling it into ... into what? I studied the spellforms, but I couldn't figure out what they were meant to do. There was just too much stray magic in the air for me to get a clear view.

  The Crown Prince gave me a sharp look. His silver armour glowed in the dim light. “Do you think you’ve won?”

  “I think you’ve lost,” I said. It was hard not to feel as though I was crossing a line. Talking back to adults, particularly aristocrats, had never been encouraged. “You’ve lost control of the school.”

  “I’ll recapture the hostages soon,” the Crown Prince said. “And as long as the wards are up, no one can get into the school.”

  I suspected he was placing too much faith in the school’s wards, but I kept that thought to myself. If Great Aunt Stregheria hadn't seen fit to enlighten him about the weaknesses in the wards ... I wondered, absently, what that meant. A planned betrayal? Or a hedge against being betrayed? A strongly-warded fortress might make the difference between life and death, but Jude’s was no fortress. The Crown Prince had proved that, hadn't he?

  The Crown Prince looked at Akin for a long moment. “Give up now and you get to live.”

  “No,” Akin said. I could hear the quiver in his voice, but he held himself steady. “Never.”

  “Be reasonable,” the Crown Prince said. “Join me. Both of you can join me ...”

  “As slaves?” I snorted, rudely. “You’ll have me wearing myself out producing Objects of Power.”

  “You’ll be well-treated,” the Crown Prince told me. “Money ... titles ... everything you could possibly want.”

  “Except freedom,” I said. I had no illusions. The Crown Prince would work me until I dropped dead. “This plan is utter madness.”

  “Says the child,” the Crown Prince sneered.

  Great Aunt Stregheria flared the wards. Light blazed through the chamber. I felt the walls shake, just for a second. I wasn't sure what she was trying to do, but there was a very real chance she’d bring the entire school crashing down into rubble. Jude’s had never been designed to stand up to a battering. The school was definitely no fortress.

  “You’re in no place to bargain,” she told us, sternly. She was no longer even trying to hide the hatred and malice in her voice. “You will join us. Either you accept decent terms, young lady, or you will be enslaved.”

  “No,” I said. “What are you doing?”

  “Reshaping the wards,” Great Aunt Stregheria said. She tapped one of the Devices of Power, meaningfully. “Do you know where these came from?”

  I shook my head. They certainly weren't mine. The Devices of Power predated me, predated Great Aunt Stregheria ... probably predated Magister Von Rupert. I wondered, suddenly, which one of them was actually older. Magister Von Rupert looked old enough to remember the empire, but I was fairly sure he was younger than that. They might have shared classes when they were children.

  “Good,” Great Aunt Stregheria said.

  The Crown Prince growled. His hand fell to his sword. “Enough talk. Join us or die.”

  He drew the sword in one smooth motion. A dark red radiance filled the air. I felt my blood run cold, even though - in hindsight - I should have anticipated it. The Royal Family owned a number of blood-bonded swords. One of them was traditionally worn by the Crown Prince, then passed on to his successor when he took the crown. The blade seemed to pulse with an unearthly desire for blood. I took a step back, despite myself. There was something about the red light that affected even me.

  Akin drew his sword. The pearly white light drove back the red, just for a moment. I gritted my teeth, realising that the Crown Prince knew how to use his sword. Akin might be outmatched, yet ... I looked past the Crown Prince, at Isabella. She was staring at the sword, utterly terrified. I almost felt sorry for her.

  The Crown Prince surged forward in one smooth motion, the blade sweeping out to slash at Akin. Akin’s sword leapt up and blocked the blow, the two blades colliding in a flash of blinding light. The Crown Prince looked surprised, just for a second, then started to rain blows on Akin’s defences. Akin’s sword seemed to blur in his hands, his face twisting slowly as the sword started to bleed into him again. I hoped - and prayed - that I could bring him back from the brink again. This time, he had no choice but to let the sword guide him in battle. It was the only way to win.

  I stepped backwards as the two fought, trying to think of a plan. Great Aunt Stregheria was safe behind her wards, unless ... I studied the wards carefully, trying to find the weak spots I knew had to be there. There were seven points, all surprisingly obvious. I frowned as I examined the closest weak point. Great Aunt Stregheria was mad, bad and dangerous to know, but she wasn't stupid. She could have made it a great deal harder to find the weak points ...

  My eyes narrowed as I spotted the trap. She’d built layer after layer of wards, weaving curses, hexes and reservoirs of raw magic into a deadly edifice. If I brought down the wards, I’d trigger a wave of raw magic that would flow into me. I wasn't sure what it would actually do to me, but I didn’t want to find out. Great Aunt Stregheria had probably assumed I had found or forged a few more protections. She’d have worked out a way to get around them if necessary.

  I looked up at her. She was smirking. She knew I couldn't get to her. And that meant ...

  The ground shook. Akin and the Crown Prince stamped around the room, their swords colliding time and time again. Brilliant flashes of red and white light filled the room, time and time again. Akin wouldn't have stood a chance if they’d been using normal swords. The Crown Prince was fast and strong and very experienced. I felt cold, despite the heat, as I realised that we hadn’t won. The Crown Prince could still pull off a victory. And he was committed. If he surrendered, he’d be executed; if he won, no one would dare question him.

  Treason never prospers, I thought. Dad had taught me that, long ago. Because if it prospers, no one dares call it treason.

  I looked at Isabella. She was pressing her back against the wall, her eyes flickering between the combatants and the exit. I thought she wanted to sneak out of the chamber and run, but she didn't seem to have the nerve. And besides, she didn't have anywhere to go. She was still a child. There was no way she could take over the remnants of her family, even assuming that something nasty had happened to her father. She needed Great Aunt Stregheria and the Crown Prince to win. I knew she’d never help me to stop them.

  And besides, she can't
help us, I thought. Unless she takes the magical discharge herself ...

  I dismissed the thought - Isabella wasn't going to risk her life to help us - and then opened my bag. Whirlpool practically leapt into my hand, practically glowing with deadly potential. I could feel it, just waiting to be used. It might have been my imagination ... and yet, I’d definitely felt something in the remains of the Eternal City. Perhaps there was a way for me to sense magic after all. Or ... perhaps it was something else, something lacking. A man who didn't have to breathe might still feel the wind.

  “Whatever that is, it will not get through the wards,” Great Aunt Stregheria said. She was watching the combatants, her voice so calm that she might as well have been commenting on the weather. “It’s just a matter of time until your little friend falls. Be a good girl, Caitlyn, and give up.”