“That would be wise,” she said. He couldn’t talk to Void, not unless he intended to admit that he’d effectively kidnapped Emily from the White City. “I’m sorry...”
“Don’t be,” Aurelius said. “Your father’s will comes first.”
He leaned forward. “We’ve been monitoring your progress in your first classes,” he said, softly. “In some, you did very well, better than I would have expected. In others... you lack the basic grounding you require to make progress.”
“Yes, sir,” Emily said. She’d done better in Charms than she’d expected–it turned out that Mistress Mauve had a habit of throwing advanced questions at her students, forcing them to put their brains to work–but she knew she was doing poorly in other classes. Only in Healing, it seemed, did she have any real advantage. “Whitehall and Mountaintop are very different.”
“But you only require more training,” Aurelius assured her. “You certainly don’t have an inherent inability to learn or use more advanced forms of magic.”
He paused, significantly. “I will be assigning you additional - private - lessons with various teachers,” he added. “They will help you to overcome the... weaknesses Whitehall has programmed into your learning.”
“Thank you,” Emily said. She enjoyed private lessons, normally. “But why... ?”
Aurelius blinked at her, owlishly. “You are the daughter of a Lone Power,” he said. Do you know how rare it is for a Lone Power to have a child? A child who survives?”
Emily shook her head, fascinated despite herself.
“Very rare,” Aurelius told her. “They tend to develop magic early, far too early, and then fail to make it through puberty. But you... you made it. You belong with us, with magical society, not with a school that caters to all and sundry. We can help you grow to reach your full potential, while mundane society tries to hold you back.”
He paused. “You do realize that King Randor is already trying to use you?”
“I know,” Emily admitted.
It wasn’t something she liked, but there seemed to be no way to avoid it. Her status as the Necromancer’s Bane brought her power and influence–and Randor, who had maneuvred her into becoming a Baroness, had become her liege lord. If she’d known at the time that it would give him the ability to exploit her reputation, she might have turned down the offer, even though it would have embarrassed her friend in front of the people she would have to rule, one day. The only good thing that had come out of the whole affair had been Alassa escaping the threat of an arranged marriage, at least for a while.
“He has used your name as a threat, more than once,” Aurelius said, softly. “And others have noticed. You might well find yourself targeted by... other sides in the White City. I dare say he hasn’t really prepared you for your duties as Baroness either, am I correct?”
“Yes,” Emily said, slowly.
“He would not want you acting independently,” Aurelius said. “But only through acting independently could you attain your full potential.”
He looked up and met her eyes. “Do you know the difference between a book of magic and a book about magic?”
Emily blinked, surprised by the apparent change in subject. “One of them is magic–it’s a magical artifact in its own right,” she said. “The other is just a textbook.”
“Crude, but basically accurate,” Aurelius said. “And do you understand that ownership of a book of magic would move from one magician to another, if the first happened to be defeated or succeeded by the second? If you happened to beat me in a duel, my books of magic would consider their ownership passed to you. The same would be true of any magical artifacts that happened to be in my possession.”
“Yes,” Emily agreed.
She carefully did not think about the book she’d stolen from Mother Holly. The Grandmaster had been reluctant to let her keep it. He’d practically insisted that it should be locked away while she was at Whitehall, yet he’d also been reluctant to let her store it at Cockatrice. But he hadn’t been able or willing to take it from her.
“You defeated Shadye,” Aurelius said. “What do you think that means?”
Emily stared at him. She’d known that no Necromancer had moved into Shadye’s territory, but she’d never bothered to wonder why. The Blighted Lands surrounding Shadye’s fortress were desolate wastelands. She’d never really considered that she might have a claim to the lands, or the fortress itself. The Grandmaster had certainly never mentioned it to her.
“You own his books now,” Aurelius said. His eyes searched her face for a long moment, looking for something. “And you might wish to ask yourself why no one told you that before now.”
Emily stared down at her hands. He was obviously trying to manipulate her. She knew he was trying to manipulate her. But it still felt as though she’d been betrayed by the Grandmaster and Lady Barb. Lady Barb was her advisor. She should have mentioned to Emily that there was at least a possibility that she had a fair claim to Shadye’s fortress and whatever artifacts he’d left behind...
Perhaps he had none, she thought. A Necromancer has raw power and madness, not skill.
She shivered. Shadye had been mad, of that she was sure, but he’d also had a workable plan that had come alarmingly close to success. Who knew what he might have stored in his fortress?
“Here,” Aurelius said.
Emily took the proffered handkerchief and wiped away tears. “I’m sorry,” she said, feeling bitterly upset. They could have told her if she’d had a claim to Shadye’s land. Void could have told her. He’d never shown any inclination to worry about whatever the Grandmaster might have thought about anything. “I...”
“Don’t worry about it,” Aurelius said. “We’re here for you.”
Oddly, she had the feeling he meant every word.
She blinked away tears, then placed the glass on the table and stood. “I need to be alone for a while,” she said. She didn’t want to break down in front of him. “Please...”
“My library is always open to you,” Aurelius said. “And I will be here to talk, if you want.”
Emily nodded, then stepped through the door and walked into the private library.
Chapter Eleven
EMILY HONESTLY WASN’T SURE JUST HOW long she spent sitting at the small table in the private library, trying to organize her thoughts. She’d known that ownership of certain magical artifacts passed from the defeated to the victor–it was how she’d come to own Mother Holly’s spellbook–but it had honestly never occurred to her that she might have inherited anything from Shadye. Certainly, no one had mentioned the possibility to her...
And now she wondered why.
No other Necromancer had moved into Shadye’s territory, no other magician had made it his home... they could have slipped into the Blighted Lands at any point and searched the remains of his fortress for books, artifacts or anything else he might have hoarded over the years. Instead, they’d been content to leave the remains of Shadye’s fortress alone... no one had moved into Shadye’s territory.
Could it have been left abandoned because Emily owned it?
It was hard, so hard, to think clearly. She wanted to go back to Whitehall and demand answers, to know why they’d kept the possibility from her. But there was no way she could leave just now, no matter how angry she felt. She knew she couldn’t leave Mountaintop now and hope to return, at least not without arousing suspicion. Who knew what Aurelius would think if she returned from a brief visit to Whitehall?
She wiped away her tears and stood, resolving to ask the Grandmaster and Lady Barb when she next saw them. Aurelius had given her access to his library, after all, and she had no intention of wasting it. She paced over to the bookshelves and skimmed the titles, mentally cataloging the ones that were new to her. Quite a few books had no visible titles at all and crackled with magic when she touched the spines, so she left them for last. Aurelius might have to remove charms and hexes from the books before Emily could read them safely.
>
And there’s probably a spell watching me, she thought, as she extended her senses as far as she could. Magic crawled along the rocky walls, shimmering in and out of her awareness; some spells preserving the books, others keeping them safe. He will know what books I look at.
Finally, she found a book on magical ownership rights and pulled it off the shelf. The book had little magic worked into the parchment, although she had the uneasy feeling that the cover was made from human skin. It wasn’t uncommon in books of magic, but it never failed to make her feel queasy. Opening the book, she sat down and started to skim through it, using a translation spell to make out the more complex words. It rapidly became clear that magical ownership was a complex business. There was no hard and fast rule for when something became an artifact with ownership rights, nor was there any standard way ownership could be transferred. The only certain way to transfer ownership was to have one person defeat–and kill–the other.
If Shadye owned anything like that, she thought, it’s mine now.
But the book didn’t say anything useful. What happened if the new owner didn’t know she owned it? The book didn’t say. What happened if someone stole the artifact from an owner who didn’t know she was the owner? The book didn’t even speculate.
Emily ground her teeth in frustration, realizing that a more experienced magician would have known to ask what had happened to Shadye’s properties. It had never occurred to her that she might have won anything from Shadye. But then, it was quite possible that Shadye didn’t have anything she could win.
“Necromancers are not skilled magicians,” Sergeant Miles had said, years ago. “They have raw power, but little else–apart from madness.”
Emily closed her eyes bitterly. The only way to know would be to go to Shadye’s territories and find out if there was anything there. But she couldn’t do that alone... perhaps she could ask Void to accompany her, or maybe Lady Barb. Emily was sure Lady Barb would give her a straight answer, if asked a direct question. Emily briefly considered trying to write a letter, then dismissed the idea. The code phrases they’d worked out hadn’t been intended for this situation.
She opened her eyes and returned the book to the shelf and, in the spirit of defiance, pulled a book on blood magic down from the higher shelves. Whitehall’s librarians rarely allowed anyone below Fifth Year to read such books, no matter how curious they were. Emily opened it, recoiled at the stench of human blood that wafted up from the pages, then started to read. Some of the magic was alarmingly familiar, others were completely new. She hadn’t known it was possible to perform an adoption using blood, one that would–literally–make someone the child of their adopted parents.
Pity it wouldn’t satisfy King Randor, she thought, morbidly. She knew she would have to give Cockatrice an heir one day, a child of her body. The thought bothered her more than she cared to admit, even though she’d started to face up to the problems left behind by her stepfather. She’d never met a boy she thought she could fall in love with, let alone spend the rest of her life with. But then, she hadn’t really been looking.
A soft cough made her jump and look up. Aurelius was standing on the other side of the table, regarding her with a faintly amused, almost paternal expression.
Emily flushed, started to try to hide the book, but recalled she had permission to read everything in the room. But he’d probably learn a great deal about her from what books she chose to read.
“It’s quite late,” he said, softly. “And even though it is the weekend, you really should be in bed.”
Emily felt her cheeks grow warmer as she checked her clockwork watch. It was much later than she’d realized, well after curfew. Nanette was going to be annoyed... she sighed, returned the book to the shelf, then turned to face him and curtseyed. Aurelius half-bowed to her in return, then indicated the door. Emily stepped out into absolute darkness. The door closed behind her a moment later, leaving her alone.
She listened carefully for a long moment, hearing nothing, then created a light globe to illuminate her path back to Raven Hall. Her footsteps echoed loudly in her ears as she passed through the outer door and into the passageways beyond, the light globe giving the complex an eerie appearance that sent chills down her spine. She was completely alone, in absolute silence. There were parts of Whitehall that felt sinister, particularly at night, but this was different. Part of her just wanted to stay where she was until morning, when there would be other students around. But she knew that wasn’t an option.
The darkness ebbed and flowed around her as she walked, barely pushed back by the glowing light. Emily wasn’t scared of the dark, but she’d learned enough after two years in the Nameless World that she should be very scared of some of the creatures that could hide within the shadows. Mountaintop, like Whitehall, would have wards to keep out the worst kind of supernatural vermin, but she knew from listening to the other girls that the wards were far from perfect. The school was only part of a much greater network of caves and tunnels dug deep beneath the ground. Who knew what might be lurking there in the darkness?
She started as she heard the sound of running footsteps ahead of her, coming towards her. Quickly, she pressed herself against the wall, realizing–too late–that her light globe would reveal her presence to anyone who saw it. Moments later, a young boy–a First Year, she thought–ran past her, his face pale and wan. Two other boys ran after him, casting spells as they moved. Their aim wasn’t very good, Emily noted; one of the spells came alarmingly close to her. They were gone before she could find the words to protest...
And then another shape loomed out of the darkness. Emily gasped in pain as a hand caught her by the upper arm. The hand felt as cold as ice; when she looked up, she found herself looking into the hooded face of a proctor. She couldn’t see anything inside the hood, not even the suggestion of a chin. The proctor studied her for a long moment, then started to pull her down the corridor. It was futile to resist, Emily realized, although she had no idea where he was taking her. What happened to students caught out of bed in Mountaintop?
But I was with the Administrator, she thought, frantically. Aurelius could have given her a night-time pass or something, if she’d thought to ask. I wasn’t sneaking out of my dorm!
The proctor reached Raven Hall and pushed her through the door. Nanette was standing beside the other door, her arms crossed under her breasts and a grim expression on her face. Emily realized, with a twinge of guilt, that she’d made the older girl wait up for her, even though she hadn’t been deliberately remaining out of bounds. Nanette was unlikely to be happy at being denied sleep herself.
“Well?” Nanette demanded. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
She went on before Emily could say a word. “You are two hours late for bed,” she added, darkly. “Where were you?”
“I was with the Administrator,” Emily said. It felt odd to have anyone close to her age care about what she was doing after dark. Madame Razz had been much older than any of her charges. “We were talking, and then I was reading. I didn’t realize it was so late until he told me to go to bed.”
Nanette studied her for a long moment, clearly trying to sniff out a lie. “You do realize,” she said sweetly, “that I will check with him? And that if you are lying, your punishment will be doubled? And public?”
“Ask him,” Emily said. “He will vouch for me.”
Nanette glowered at her, but finally nodded. “I will, tomorrow,” she said flatly. “Until then, go to bed and stay there until morning.”
The dorm felt strange in the semi-darkness, Emily discovered, as she stepped through the door. Most of the beds were surrounded by privacy wards, including several designed to block out the sounds of people snoring. Her lips twitched–Aloha had snored, although she’d always denied it–and her roommates had been forced to learn the spells to protect themselves just to get a good night’s sleep. She heard a faint moan as she reached her bed, and frowned. Frieda was asleep in her bed, twitching unc
omfortably. She must be having a nightmare, Emily realized. She knew she’d woken her roommates once or twice with her own nightmares.
Poor girl, she thought.
Emily changed rapidly into her nightgown, then went to the washroom and finally climbed into bed, closing her eyes. She must have been more exhausted than she’d realized, because the next thing she was aware of was the sounds of the other girls as they took down their privacy wards before starting the new day. Cursing her mistake–she’d been too tired to erect wards of her own–Emily buried her head under her pillow and tried to block out the sound completely. It didn’t work.
“Hey, you’re back,” one of the girls called, shaking Emily’s bed. “And you seem to be alive.”
Emily groaned and sat upright, wincing at the bright light spilling through the room. She should have set up wards against that, too. Nanette always made the light globes too bright, either to encourage them to get out of bed or merely to force them to master the wards necessary to block out the light.
Claudia was balancing on the edge of Emily’s bed, grinning down at her. A moment later, she cast a privacy ward so that no one else could hear them. Emily silently willed her to go away, but she didn’t take the hint.
“I thought Nanette was going to kill you, she was so pissed,” Claudia said, cheerfully. “And you’re even sitting upright. What did she say to you?”
“Nothing important,” Emily groaned. She reached for her watch and cursed again. It was barely eight bells in the morning... and it was the weekend! She’d planned to spend it in the library, reading and researching. And she could have slept in. “What did she say to you?”
“Go to bed,” Claudia grinned. Her smile grew predatory, in a manner that reminded Emily far too much of the bullies from Earth. “I was wondering what you were going to be doing this weekend.”
Schooled in Magic 5 - The School of Hard Knocks Page 11