Emily silently cursed the rumors — and the paintings — under her breath. She knew she didn’t look impressive, but surely the artists could have made the paintings reasonably accurate. No one would recognize her if they weren’t introduced to her...
“I am Emily, Necromancer’s Bane and Baroness of Cockatrice,” she said. She held the older man’s eye, unwilling to back down. “I will not have my servants abused.”
Gaius eyed her for a long moment, then bowed and snapped his fingers. The frog shimmered, then popped up into a terrified-looking maid. Emily winced in sympathy — she’d been scared too, when she’d been transfigured for the first time — and shot her a reassuring look. The maid had to have thought that no one would ever recognize her.
“As you wish, my lady,” Gaius said.
Emily scowled at him. She had a feeling he was going to be trouble.
Chapter Fifteen
“FOR THE DAUGHTER OF THE MOST powerful sorcerer known to exist,” Fulvia said, as the servants started serving dinner, “you seem remarkably shy. I don’t believe that anyone knew you existed before your arrival at Whitehall.”
Emily groaned, inwardly. She had hoped that seating Marcellus on her left and Fulvia on her right would help defuse tensions, during dinnertime, but she hadn’t realized that both of them would take the opportunity to pump her for information.
“I didn’t develop magic until I was sixteen,” she said, which was true enough. “And my father sent me straight to Whitehall.”
“He never told anyone he had a daughter,” Fulvia said. Her brown eyes probed Emily’s face, watching for signs she wasn’t being completely honest. “I would have expected him to shout your birth — and survival — to the entire world.”
“My father is a very private man,” Emily said. It was true, too; her real father had abandoned his family so long ago she barely remembered him. “He wouldn’t want to share anything of himself with the world.”
“But a daughter...Void could have taught you himself,” Fulvia pressed.
“He isn’t a very good teacher,” Emily said. Void had admitted it himself, back when they’d first met. Lady Barb had confirmed it, later. Void was one of the strongest known magicians, a Lone Power, but a poor teacher. “I think he thought I should have a proper grounding in the magical arts.”
“That was wise,” Fulvia said. “But it is also irresponsible of him to let you walk out on your own. My children and grandchildren know better than to act without consulting me.”
Emily felt a brief flicker of sympathy for Melissa. Emily’s mother might have largely ignored her daughter, but it was clear Melissa had suffered from too much supervision in her life. Perhaps she hadn’t known any real freedom, any real chance to make up her own mind, until she’d gone to Whitehall. The price of having a real family had been a complete lack of real independence, or even freedom of choice. It wasn’t a pleasant thought.
“I believe my father figures I am old enough to handle myself,” Emily said, instead.
“How careless,” Marcellus offered. “You kill a necromancer, thwart a coup, become a baroness, kill a Mimic, kill another necromancer, leave a school in ruins...I’m starting to think you shouldn’t have been allowed out of his tower, let alone left to handle yourself.”
He had a point, Emily knew. Void might never have claimed to be Emily’s father, but everyone believed it, knowing that power didn’t come from nowhere. She had a feeling the Grandmaster had encouraged the rumors, in the hopes they would give Emily additional protection. But, in truth, Emily was not his daughter. He had shown concern for her, in the past, but how far did that go?
He never seemed to care that people were branding me his daughter, she thought. But I only made his reputation more fearsome.
“My father believes in the school of hard knocks,” she said. “I have to learn through doing.”
“But you will make mistakes, of course,” Fulvia said. “He should offer you firm, but considerate, guidance.”
Emily shrugged before looking around the dining hall. It was still decorated in the manner the previous baron had preferred; the stone walls were covered in animal heads, tastefully preserved to show off the baron’s hunting skills. Emily had never seen the attraction of chasing deer through the woods, let alone wild boar and a handful of magical creatures; her one experience with hunting for fun had been quite bad enough. Dozens of servants brought in plates of food and drink, while the guests ate, drank and chatted away. She couldn’t help noticing that cliques had already started to form, with the Ashworths leading one group and the Ashfalls leading the other. That promised trouble in the not-so-distant future.
She caught sight of Melissa and frowned, inwardly. Melissa was sitting next to her younger brother, barely touching her food. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t eat, Emily was sure; she’d taken pains to ensure that a wide range of food and drink was served, instead of the standard roast meat, potatoes and vegetables that seemed to dominate local tables. Indeed, after some explanation, she’d even managed to convince the cooks to produce pizza! But Melissa still wasn’t eating.
“My great-granddaughter is to marry,” Fulvia said, following Emily’s gaze. “She will meet her husband tonight.”
Emily blinked. “You’re choosing her husband for her?”
“The family picked a suitable man,” Fulvia said. “I was surprised your father did not respond to my letters, requesting he considered bequeathing your hand in marriage to one of my great-nephews.”
“My father thought I should choose my own husband,” Emily snapped, feeling a hot flash of anger. Void had told her he’d received such letters, years ago, and she’d asked him to burn them. “I think he incinerated the letters.”
“You could not possibly make a decent choice for yourself,” Fulvia said. She showed no reaction to Emily’s anger. “Marriage is for life, not for some...passion...that will burn itself out, given time. It is far more important to choose a husband who will give you good children, like my sons and grandsons.”
“And yet, one must offer the illusion of free choice,” Marcellus put in. “Children become far more temperamental when they think they’re being dictated to.”
“Nonsense,” Fulvia said, evenly. “Illusions are eventually dispelled by the cold hard light of reality. Better to start without any illusions and work from there.”
Emily felt another flicker of pity, for Markus as well as Melissa. Both of them would have their elders deciding their marriage partners, perhaps — in Markus’s case — with the illusion of free choice. She couldn’t help wondering just what would happen when — or if — the illusion fell apart. Would there be an almighty fight, followed by a separation, or would the married couple merely have affairs on the side?
The dinner wore on until, finally, the dessert was served. Emily took a small portion of Summer Pudding for herself, casting another glance at Melissa. The girl wasn’t eating anything, not even the sweet treats Emily knew Melissa loved. Both Fulvia and Marcellus had taken considerable portions for themselves, reflecting just how much magic they needed to use on a daily basis. The power had to come from somewhere.
“If you will excuse me,” Fulvia said, once the dinner was finished. “I need to speak to Melissa.”
Emily watched her go, and turned her attention to the servants as they hastily pushed the tables against the wall or carried them out of the hall. A band took up their position in the far corner, casting a handful of spells to ensure that everyone could hear their music before they actually started to play. Emily rose to her feet and nodded at Alassa, who had been chatting to Imaiqah and Jade. Beside them, Caleb looked thoroughly out of place.
“You haven’t done badly,” Alassa assured her, as the band started to play. Couples formed up on the dance floor, spinning to the music. “All you have to do is keep them from killing each other for the next two weeks.”
Emily groaned as she looked at the dancers. It was clear there was some tension in the air; junior Ashwort
hs were glaring at junior Ashfalls, while their seniors were trying hard to put a damper on problems. A handful of minor arguments broke out as the first dance came to an end, then faded away as the second tune began. Alassa gave Emily a quick hug, waved to Jade, and led him onto the dance floor. Emily was almost tempted to invite Caleb to dance with her...
She frowned as she caught sight of Fulvia, Melissa...and, to her surprise, Gaius. The three were talking together, their voices obscured by a privacy ward. Emily narrowed her eyes, frowning as two middle-aged members of the rival families started snapping at one another, followed by pushing and shoving. Lady Barb descended on them like an angel of vengeance and separated them by force. No one seemed inclined to take the matter any further.
“Lady Emily,” Markus said, as he separated himself from the crowd and walked up to her. “Do you have a moment to talk?”
“I dare say,” Emily said. At Lady Barb’s advice, she’d put a number of rooms near the Great Hall aside for private wheeling and dealing. “Will Steven wish to accompany us?”
“I don’t think so,” Markus said. “He will want to talk to you later.”
Politics, Emily thought, sourly. Steven was the Head of Crystal Quarrel — or had been, given that he’d been a Sixth Year student at Mountaintop while Emily had been there — and he probably wanted to see where Emily stood, now she was back at Whitehall. In hindsight, Master Grey’s advice had been very good indeed.
“Come with me,” she said, and led the way through a doorway. Two of the rooms were already occupied, sealed tight with magic; a third lay open and unclaimed. Emily closed the door, cast a handful of privacy spells, and then took a seat. “It’s been a few months.”
“Yes, yes it has,” Markus said. He gave her a beaming smile. “I bring you greetings, felicitations, and curses from the MageMaster of Mountaintop.”
“Zed,” Emily recalled. It had been her fault he’d become MageMaster. “He sent me curses?”
“I think that while he likes some of the perks of the job, he resents the time it takes from his own studies,” Markus said. “But he has been something of an improvement over Aurelius’s stewardship.”
Emily wasn’t too surprised. Aurelius had been ambitious; he’d intended to become MageMaster as part of a plan to eventually reshape the Allied Lands. Zed, on the other hand, had no interests beyond pure magical research. And, despite having good reason to dislike Emily, he’d actually been an effective teacher. She might just have finally begun the process of mastering alchemy, thanks to his patient tutelage.
“I’m glad to hear that,” she said. She wondered, briefly, just how much else Markus might know. The dread secret of Mountaintop was known to a scant few. “What else did he tell you to say?”
“Apparently, he’s begun negotiations with Red Rose,” Markus said. “He was quite clear I was to mention that to you, but he didn’t give me any other details.”
The nexus point, Emily thought.
“I see,” she said, out loud. “And Nanette?”
“Missing, presumed rogue,” Markus said. “She must have made her escape once the wards fell, as we never found her body. Aurelius was found dead in his chamber, near his daughter. Did you kill him?”
Emily shook her head. “He was unconscious the last time I saw him,” she said. “How did he die?”
“Magical burns were found all over his body,” Markus said. “Someone wanted to make very certain he was dead.”
“It wasn’t me,” Emily said.
She ran through a short list of suspects, but came up with nothing. Anyone who learned the truth would want to kill him, starting with the friends and relatives of the students he’d fed to the school’s wards. Maybe it had been Master Grey, who’d graduated from Mountaintop years ago. He’d been shocked to learn the truth...
Or Void, she thought. He did say he had business to complete at Mountaintop.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Markus said. “You’ll be interested to know that Aurelius changed his will, two weeks before he died. He left you his private library. However, as many of those texts are either rare or unique — and most of them are very dark — the MageMaster is reluctant to let them out of his sight.”
Emily stared at him. “He left them to me?”
“He did,” Markus confirmed. “Didn’t he mention it to you?”
“No,” Emily said. She frowned, puzzled. Aurelius had granted her access to his library, a gift beyond price, but he’d never suggested that he would leave her anything in his will. And yet...maybe it had been a planned attempt to make trouble for his successor, if his plan went off the rails. “I never thought I had a claim.”
“Well, you do,” Markus said. He sighed, then spoke with the air of one reciting a memorized message. “The MageMaster thinks it would be unwise for a nineteen-year-old girl, who has yet to complete her formal training, to have possession of the books. However, he has no grounds to stop you from taking them. He would like to propose a compromise.”
Emily frowned. She practically collected books, now she had the money to fund her habit. It wasn’t in her to just surrender an entire library, even if she hadn’t known she owned it until now. Zed had to be trying to take a subtle revenge...or, perhaps, he was genuinely concerned. She had promoted him, after all.
“A compromise,” she repeated. “What sort of compromise does he have in mind?”
“He would like to keep them at Mountaintop, where they will be secure,” Markus said. “You will have the freedom of the school, able to come and go as you please, allowing you to consult them whenever you wish. In addition, you would have access to the school’s library at all levels.”
“I will have to consider it,” Emily said.
She drew in her breath. It was a tempting offer, on the face of it, but simply getting to Mountaintop presented a whole series of problems. She didn’t have the power to teleport, which meant she would need assistance in teleporting to the school, and using portals presented their own problems. On the other hand, there were volumes at Mountaintop that weren’t duplicated at Whitehall. Having the ability to read them, and other books that were normally considered above her level, was very tempting indeed.
“Please inform the MageMaster that he will have his answer at the end of the Faire,” she said. “Does he plan to attend personally?”
“I don’t believe so,” Markus said. “He dislikes politics, I think.”
Emily nodded. “Is that everything you wanted to talk about?”
“For the moment,” Markus said. He struck a preening pose. “You’ll be pleased to hear, despite your...disruption, that I passed my exams with flying colors. You are now looking at a certified sorcerer.”
“Very good,” Emily said. The magical families had a great deal of influence over Mountaintop, but even they couldn’t fiddle with the grading system. Even if they had, fixing a student’s grades would have been disastrous in the long run and they were smart enough to know it. “What are you going to do with your life?”
Markus shook his head slowly. “My father expects me to take up his position as Patriarch when he dies, or chooses to lay it down,” he said. “It isn’t really what I want in life.”
“I suppose not,” Emily said. “You’d be responsible for maintaining the feud.”
“Oh, the stupid feud,” Markus snapped, annoyed. “Do you realize how much energy is wasted fighting the Ashworths?”
“Too much,” Emily said, quietly. “But why do you fight?”
Markus shrugged. “I was always told that the founder of House Ashfall was unfairly evicted from the family by his brother for daring to question his choices,” he said. “The family council was split on the matter and half of the cadet branches decided to declare him the true head of House Ashworth, which was later changed to Ashfall after the original family attempted to break truce and slaughter the rebels.”
“And how much of that,” Emily asked, “is true?”
“I have no idea,” Markus said. He grinned
at her. “I was also told that House Ashworth drowns Ashfall babies, then eats them for lunch. Do you think that’s true?”
“I rather doubt it,” Emily said, primly. “What do you think they say about you?”
“Probably the same, just with the names reversed,” Markus said. “You’d think we’d notice if we kept losing children.” He sighed. “I’d better get back to the dance. Maximus was talking about doing something stupid, and father told me to box his ears if he actually did.”
“You were Head Boy,” Emily reminded him. “I’m sure you can control an eleven-year-old.”
“Maximus knows I’m not allowed to kill him,” Markus said, as Emily started to take down the wards. “It makes it harder to intimidate the little brat.”
Emily smiled. She’d never had siblings, but Imaiqah had told her that she’d found herself competing with her siblings for very limited attention. It wasn’t something she regretted.
She opened the door, looked out, and stopped in surprise. Melissa was leaning against the stone wall, looking tired...and upset. She looked up and scowled when she saw Emily, then looked past her at Markus. And then she struggled to straighten up.
“Emily,” she said, tiredly. There was a bitterness in her voice that made Emily shiver. “And who is your friend?”
“Markus, of House Ashfall,” Emily said. There was no point in trying to hide Markus’s house from her; indeed, she was surprised that Melissa hadn’t recognized him. But then, maybe Markus’s portraits were as inaccurate as hers. “Markus, this is Melissa, of House Ashworth.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Markus said. “Do you actually eat babies for breakfast?”
Melissa snickered. “Do you? I was told you prefer them with chilli and raisins.”
Emily opened her mouth, but stopped as she felt the wards shimmer again. “I have to go,” she said. It crossed her mind that it might not be a good idea to leave them alone together, but she couldn’t drag them both with her. “Please don’t kill each other.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Melissa said.
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