The Zero Equation

by Christopher Nuttall

  “Ouch,” I said. I almost felt sorry for her. I’d expected a similar fate, once my lack of magic became clear. “Will she ever be released?”

  “I don’t know,” Akin said. “She is young, after all. If she’d been an adult when she threw her lot in with the Crown Prince ...”

  “Disowned,” I finished. “Or worse.”

  “Yeah,” Akin said. “A fate worse than death.”

  I shrugged. Isabella was used to living in a mansion, to the company of her peers, to a small army of servants doing her every bidding ... she wasn't going to find it easy to adjust to a country estate. And she was in disgrace. The estate would have servants, people who kept it running, but they wouldn't be at Isabella’s beck and call. Her guardian would probably make her do everything from getting dressed to brushing her hair by herself. I was pretty sure Isabella would hate it.

  And she’ll be very alone, I thought. If there’s no one even close to her age there ...

  “What happened to you afterwards?” I asked. “I mean ... you killed the Crown Prince.”

  “There were a great many questions,” Akin said. “But it seems that no one is interested in trying to prosecute me. The Crown Prince was a traitor, plain and simple. Father thinks I should watch my back for a bit, but otherwise ...”

  Rose coughed. “What about the Princess? And her children?”

  “The Princess will probably be shipped back to North Cairnbulg,” Akin said. “Father says it isn't clear how much she knew in advance, but ... she must have known something. The children ... I don't know. Her oldest child is technically the heir to both kingdoms, but seeing North Cairnbulg participated in a coup attempt ...”

  He shook his head. “I have no idea how it’s going to work out.”

  I frowned. I’d wanted to ask about him, after he’d killed the Crown Prince. Great Aunt Stregheria had haunted my dreams, even though I hadn't killed her directly. Akin might be having nightmares of his own. But I knew I couldn't ask him about them. Boys his age rarely wanted to open themselves up, emotionally. It made them feel vulnerable.

  Akin cleared his throat. “Did they find the remains of the Objects of Power you made? You know, while we were prisoners?”

  “They recovered some from Great Aunt Stregheria’s townhouse,” I said. The Crown Prince had sent the Kingsmen on a wild goose chase. They’d been trying to make up for lost time ever since they’d returned to discover what had happened in their absence. “But others remain unaccounted for.”

  “They might have been stolen,” Rose said. “Or used during the House War.”

  I nodded. “We’ll probably never know.”

  “Unless they surface,” Akin said. He tapped the sword at his belt. “Dad thanks you for this, by the way.”

  He coloured. “You could have asked me first.”

  I took a breath. “I’m sorry,” I said, honestly. “But ... I wanted to get our fathers thinking about a betrothal as quickly as possible.”

  “I dare say you succeeded,” Akin said. He smiled, rather wanly. “You also got my father out of a hole. He owes you a favour.”

  Rose leaned forward. “That’s good, isn’t it?”

  “Perhaps,” I said. I met his eyes. “We don’t have to go through with it. Not if we change our minds when we’re older ...”

  Akin snickered. “We could stay in education until we turned twenty-one, if we wished. It isn't common for students to get married, is it?”

  “No,” I said. “But there would come a time when we would have to decide.”

  “Not yet,” Akin said. “And that’s all that matters right now.”

  Rose smiled. “I’m sure you two will be very happy together.”

  Akin blushed. “Are we even going to be in the same school?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “If we actually do set up a school for Zeroes ... then no.”

  “That might make life harder, in some ways,” Akin mused. “But easier too.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “It could.”

  I shared a small smile with him. It wouldn't be easy - we both knew it wouldn't be easy - but at least we were on the same side. The House War would not be allowed to reignite, now or ever. And that was all that mattered.

  “Thank you,” I said, quietly. “Both of you. For being my friends.”

  “You are more than welcome,” Akin said, formally.

  “You two.” Rose laughed, then caught hold of our arms. “Let’s go.”

  The End

  Afterword

  It amused me, after all the kerfuffle about who could and who couldn't write ‘characters of colour’ that very few people mentioned Cat’s skin colour - she’s black - and no one complained. And it pleased me too, because it suggested that the readers were looking past an unimportant attribute - particularly in a fantasy setting - and concentrating on the character within. All things considered, it was something of a relief.

  But why is she black?

  Many years ago, I met a student at university. She was wheelchair-bound (I believe she couldn't move anything below the waist) and ... well, I wouldn't have blamed her for giving up on life. She was Somali, I believe; an accident of fate had ensured that she could neither live a traditional life within her community nor find it easy to live outside it. And yet, she persisted in the truest possible sense. She didn't let the bad hand she’d been dealt overcome her. She worked hard, she studied ... I like to think she got a job where her intelligence and determination was appreciated, despite her disabilities.

  I liked her. More to the point, I respected her. And Cat is based - to some extent - on her.

  It is a fundamental truth that some people face many difficulties in their lives. That’s simply what happens. Some of those problems are internal - poor health - and others are external; abusive parents, limited income, crime-ridden areas. But true worth lies in finding a way to overcome those problems and triumph over adversity. A story of someone who succeeds in life is one I would find inspiring.

  ***

  You may be interested to know some of the background to The Zero Enigma.

  Like I said in The Zero Blessing, I've always been a little annoyed by stories that focus on a certain macguffin, normally an ancient device of untold power that will reshape the world if the good guys find it - or destroy it, if the bad guys find it. Sometimes it’s justified - the One Ring, perhaps - but mostly I wonder why the good guys can't build anything better. Technology marches on; there are things we don’t understand about roman roads and bridge-building techniques, but we can do better than our distant ancestors. Why should an ancient device of lost power be more effective than a modern-day device?

  And then I had something of an inspiration.

  I’ve cooked since I was in my early teens, but I’ve been expanding my culinary skills since we moved into our current home. One night, I determined that I was going to cook roast beef for my parents; a difficult task, as my mother is one of the greatest cooks I know. The beef was superb, the potatoes were crispy, the gravy ... the gravy tasted like engine oil. I’d messed up, somehow. And when I swallowed my pride and asked my mother for help, she suggested adding something sweet - redcurrant jelly. Abracadabra! The gravy was suddenly tasty!

  And it got me thinking. What other secrets might have been lost over the years because no one thought to write them down?

  It’s actually quite terrifying to think about how little the average person knows about maintaining modern technology. Can you repair a laptop? Or craft a new light bulb? Or fix a modern car? Grow food? Create medicine? Build a gun? Look around you - I bet good money that the vast majority of my readers couldn't do that much to rebuild civilisation, if there was a major disaster. Even going back to the days of yore would be pretty much impossible. How many of us know how to build a steam engine? If much of modern tech was busted - an EMP strike, perhaps - that which remained would be impossible to duplicate.

  So I started with the concept of Objects of Power - and the Zeroes, who w
ere needed to create them. The Thousand-Year Empire was not keen on advertising the source of its power, so Zeroes were quietly brought to the Eternal City and put to work ... rather than being allowed to set off on their own. Not all of them would be happy at such treatment, of course, so some of them would find a way to rebel. Like Cat, they were ingenious; unlike Cat, they were angry at their society and sought revenge. They found a way to shatter the core of the empire.

  And, after the empire collapsed, people who had working Objects of Power had a very definite advantage. Naturally, magicians started trying to duplicate what was lost. But, because they didn't understand what was missing, all they could do was create pale imitations of the long-lost Objects of Power. Devices of Power had their advantages, of course, but they weren't the same. It took Cat to put the pieces together and realise what was missing.

  ***

  This book ends this part of Cat’s adventures, although - as you may have guessed - she has a long life ahead of her. I’m still thinking about what is to come - on one hand, I want a story about an older Cat exploring the remains of the Eternal City and discovering the dark secrets of the Thousand-Year Empire; on the other hand, I also want to send Cat on a long voyage to Hangchow.

  However, I’ve been considering a number of other stories and characters set within the same universe. Let me know which ones you’d like to see. Obviously, all of these titles are provisional.

  The Alchemist’s Apprentice follows a young apprentice who gets drawn into a deadly plot to reshape society. Unlike Cat, the apprentice would be poor - more used to the darker side of Shallot than high society.

  The Last Stand follows a young man who becomes a soldier in the army - and fights a desperate battle to protect the kingdom when war breaks out (because Cat’s mere existence upsets the balance of power.)

  The Hangchow Connection would follow an exhibition to Hangchow, on the other side of the world, where the adventurers would find themselves dragged into a very deadly (and ancient) threat.

  Isabella’s Story would follow Isabella during her exile, when she grows up and discovers that some things are more important than status.

  Christopher G. Nuttall

  Edinburgh, 2018

  Appendix: Magic in Allrianne

  It is important to understand that very few people on Allrianne understand the true nature of magic. Even the Thousand-Year Empire, which codified the first principles of magic, didn't really understand what they were doing. Only a handful of people realised the truth and they never talked before the empire fell. (See The Zero Curse for details.) Much of magical knowledge, therefore, is based on flawed understanding.

  Magic is believed to be a talent shared by the vast majority of the population. Everyone has magic, some people just have more of it than others. A person who ranks low on the magic scale - the Empire rated magicians on a scale of one to ten, with the average being three or four - can rise higher, simply by practicing and practicing until they develop their magical strength. A child who starts practicing magic at a very early age will be stronger than most adults by the time he or she enters school. (And also have an intimate understanding of both magical knowledge and older languages.) A child with a high magical rating can be born anywhere.

  In reality, Allrianne is surrounded by a magic field that interfered with evolution. Beasts such as dragons and basilisks evolved to the point they could draw on the magic field, either to fly or power their deadly gaze. (A dragon could not hope to fly without magic.) Plants became infused with magic, allowing them to be used as potion ingredients. And humans evolved into living batteries of magic, instinctively absorbing and storing power from the magic field. Human intelligence allowed that magic to be shaped into spells and cast; sometimes, when the human was pushed too far, the magic would be released by accident, sometimes injuring or killing anyone unlucky enough to be nearby. The more humans practice with magic, the more magic they are able to store.

  Channelling vast amounts of magic is immensely difficult. While a sorcerer can turn someone into a frog for a short space of time (the spell tends to wear off) greater and longer-lasting works require the use of tools, runes and considerable preparation. A sorcerer with time to prepare is a very dangerous enemy; a magician’s house tends to be spelled to protect him, giving him the advantage of the pre-prepared position. Runes and suchlike draw on the magic levels in the air, but need to be triggered by a sorcerer to work. Potions can be assembled from components with their own magic, yet - again - need a magician to start the process that turns them into magic.

  (Many potions, rune drawings and suchlike can be prepared by a non-magician, but require a considerable dose of magic to get them to work.)

  Most magical children are homeschooled from the moment their magic appears, where they are taught how to draw and develop their magic. Once they turn 12, most magical children go to a magical academy, where they are taught the basics of more complex magics - everything from potions brewing to geometrics (the art of drawing runes.) Children born to non-magic families tend to operate at a considerable disadvantage, as they are rarely taught control before they go to school. (They aren’t inferior, but they have to learn to draw on their magic before they can actually use it, which needs proper lessons.)

  ‘Theoretical Mages’ are magical theorists. Not all of them can perform magic to a high standard, but they tend to be very good at working out the interplay of runes, hand-movements and vocalisation to cast new spells. It’s perfectly possible to cast a spell without knowing what it does, but magicians tend to get better results when they do know what it does.

  A tiny handful of people are born without any magic at all. (In reality, they have no connection to the magic field.) These people (Zeroes) are often impossible to differentiate from Ones and Twos, unless they’re unlucky enough to be born into a family of strong magicians. Unlike Ones and Twos, no amount of magical training will get magic out of a Zero - they simply don't have the ability to store magic, let alone cast spells. This leaves them terrifyingly vulnerable, but it does have some advantages. A Zero may be unable to resist anything from a simple compulsion or transfiguration to a long-term curse, yet none of these spells - even if reinforced by a Device of Power - will linger. Very few spells will last longer than an hour if cast on a Zero. They are also immune to certain types of magic - the werewolf and vampire curses, for example, only work if the victim has magic - although this is rarely noticeable.

  Much to the frustration of magicians, the secret behind producing Objects of Power was lost during the wars that swept the continent over a thousand years ago. Objects of Power are items that draw on the magic field itself (like runes, but to a far greater extent) and confer great gifts upon their owners. There are swords that cut through anything, shields that protect the wearer from anything, trinkets that confer a degree of magical immunity ... such items are literally priceless, as no post-Empire sorcerer has managed to duplicate them. There are many sorcerers that produce shoddy imitations, Devices of Power, but such items rarely last long.

  [The problem is that the magicians who attempt to forge such devices are imbuing them with their own power, which refuses to work in harmony with the natural magic. Even a very low power magician would have problems making an Object of Power work. The only people who can make them reliably are Zeroes.]

  Relatively few Objects of Power survived the fall of the empire, leaving behind legends, rumours and the very real prospect of someone discovering a long-lost Object and using it to found a new kingdom. The people who do possess Objects - all of which are literally priceless - use them to bolster their powers and secure their rule. Even a mere Family Sword - a weapon bonded to a specific bloodline - can have importance far beyond what its powers might suggest.

  King Rufus is rumoured to possess a sword and scabbard that makes its wearer invincible in battle. The Kingsmen possess armour passed down from the Eternal City itself. Other notable Objects of Power include the Willing Wand, the Frog Maker, the Truth
Stone and the Throne of Seder.

  The original Devices of Power were forged in Shallot - according to legend - when sorcerers first realised that forging Objects of Power was harder than it looked. They took the original instruction books (which neglected to mention the need for a Zero) and tried to find a simpler way of crafting Objects. The Devices they made were more flexible than the Objects of Power, but they decayed rapidly (the magic they used to imbue the Devices reacted badly to the pure magic from the magic field.) A Device of Power can be overpowered or simply countered, unlike Objects of Power. However, they can also be repaired relatively easily; an Object of Power, if broken, is almost always impossible to fix.

  Magic is omnipresent within Allrianne, with even the merest peasant using magic on a regular basis. (To light fires, for example.) It is rare for so much magic to be used that it actually drains the local magic field, but it does happen. Particularly intensive battles, for example, do tend to cause localised drains, often ending the fighting or turning it into a hand-to-hand engagement. (This is why soldiers carry swords as well as spellcasters.) It is generally believed that such engagements involve so many spells that they are interfering with each other, but that isn't correct. In reality, the local magic field has been lowered to the point it cannot be used until it has time to regenerate.