Schooled in Magic 5 - The School of Hard Knocks

by Christopher Nuttall

  A wave of silence ran through the room, emanating from the High Table. Emily turned to see the tutors, wearing formal golden robes, lifting their glasses to their students. After a moment, she recalled her manners and lifted her own glass, then took a sip of water. There were places where drinking someone’s health in water was considered offensive, she recalled from the more interesting etiquette lessons she’d had to endure, but Mountaintop wouldn’t be one of them. The dangers of a drunken magician were all too clear.

  Which raises the obvious question, Emily thought, as the serving girls returned with fresh glasses. Why do they serve alcohol at all?

  She elbowed Frieda as the younger girl reached for a second glass. “No more wine,” she said, firmly. She had to practically whisper in Frieda’s ear to get her to hear her, with the spell still dampening the noise in the chamber. “Order fruit juice instead.”

  Frieda looked rebellious, but did as she was told.

  A low tingle ran through the air, calling them to pay attention to Aurelius.

  The Administrator rose to his feet slowly. Emily was mildly impressed as light glinted off his golden robes. She’d worn gold once or twice and she knew, without false modesty, that she’d looked more than a little absurd. But Aurelius managed to make it work. Wrapped in a haze of magic, he looked almost regal. The implications were not lost on her.

  Recalling what he’d said, she lifted her eyes and scanned the tutors as they turned to look at Aurelius. It was clear, now, that he was right; there were at least three groupings among the tutors, some more aggressive and disinclined to support Aurelius than others. The only tutor who seemed above it all was Professor Zed, who sipped his drink absently as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Emily had a private feeling that his presence at Mountaintop wasn’t entirely an accident, but who had been behind it? Not Aurelius, she thought. He wouldn’t have risked putting Emily next to a teacher who had an excellent motive to pick on her in the name of revenge.

  “We are always charged with thinking of the future,” Aurelius said. “We are the ones who must consider what will happen in the years to come. But in order to consider the future, we must consider the past. Where did we come from is just as important a question as where are we going?

  “It has been over five hundred years since the caves were cleared of the dwarves,” he continued, his words echoing around the chamber. “Since then, these hallowed halls have served as both our place of learning and our refuge. Even the Fall of the Empire did not deter us from turning out new students, ready to help bolster our society. Mountaintop stands ever ready to meet what the future will bring.”

  The students applauded, loudly. Emily clapped her hands too, although she had a feeling that Aurelius had deliberately spoken... maybe not nonsense, but boilerplate platitudes rather than anything useful. Or was he building up to something else, something more specific? She shivered uncomfortably as she remembered how King Randor had told her she was going to be a baroness. Did Aurelius have something similar in mind? She prayed, silently, that he wasn’t going to ask for her endorsement in front of the entire school.

  “The future will bring many surprises,” Aurelius said. “Our world changed two years ago–and we have hope and fear in equal measure. But we will meet the challenge of the future and emerge victorious, once again.”

  He sat down and smiled. “Serve the food,” he ordered. “We will save the rest of the speeches for afterwards.”

  Emily had to smile as the students applauded again, then turned their attention to their plates as the servants handed round slices of meat, vast bowls of potatoes and great steaming jugs of gravy. Frieda piled her plate high as if eating were going out of style, then tucked in with a surprising amount of enthusiasm. Emily started to eat with more dignity, expecting the food to taste overcooked, like feasts in Zangaria. But it tasted better than she’d expected, good enough to encourage her to eat.

  Frieda wasn’t the only one to eat like a starving animal, she saw. The Shadows were all cramming themselves with food, as if they hadn’t eaten anything over the last few days. It was quite possible, Emily realized dully, that they hadn’t picked up on the benefits of eating full meals–or, more practically, that their Patrons hadn’t provided them with funds to eat enough to keep themselves going. But the feast was a giant free-for-all. The Shadows could, for once, eat as much as they wanted.

  Something else Aurelius will have to change, Emily thought. The Shadows will need to be fed properly to make them effective magicians.

  She sighed. His offer was tempting, more than she cared to admit. If she’d been a free agent, she might well have accepted. Hell, Void might well have encouraged her to accept. But she had to make a report back to Whitehall and, so far, she knew she’d discovered very little. Unless she broke her word and told the Grandmaster about Aurelius’s scheme...

  The Grandmaster might approve, she thought, ruefully. The more she thought about it, the more she wondered if she could serve as a bridge between the two powerful magicians. He knows the danger from the Blighted Lands as well as I do. And having the MageMaster on his side wouldn’t hurt either of them.

  And then there was a surge of magic, far too close to her for comfort. Emily turned, just in time to see a plate of meat launch itself off the table and toss its contents towards another table. There were shouts and screams as the meat cascaded down. Emily glanced at Frieda, expecting to see a smirk and resolving not to let the younger girl defy her any longer, but her Shadow’s mouth was wide with shock.

  And then all hell broke loose as the targeted table retaliated.

  Emily yelped in pain as a gravy jug exploded, sending steaming hot liquid everywhere, then stumbled backwards as a line of nasty-looking insects appeared from nowhere and started to advance towards her. Several of the other students at her table fired hexes indiscriminately, unwilling or unable to let the insult pass, even though none of them knew what had happened.

  “Get under the table,” Emily snapped, as more plates of food flew towards them. A half-eaten piece of roast pig slammed into the wall and disintegrated, showering chunks of meat over the unlucky diners. “Hurry...”

  There was a roar, then screams of pain as the fire suddenly grew brighter–much brighter. Emily tried to raise a shield, but the pain in her head made it impossible. Instead, she caught Frieda’s arm and dragged her towards the door. The tutors were trying to restore calm, yet they seemed to be having problems imposing their will. There were just too many hexes flying around for them to deal with all the casters.

  She swore out loud as something thudded into her back–she didn’t want to know what–and then pushed her way out of the door. Behind her, she felt waves of magic radiating outward, probably silencing the remaining combatants. The Grandmaster had done something similar, last year, when the students at Whitehall had threatened to panic.

  “That wasn’t me,” Frieda said, frantically. “I didn’t do it!”

  Emily nodded. Whatever else Frieda was, she wasn’t a liar. And besides, she would have to be insane to start something in the middle of the feast, let alone waste so much food either. But that raised a simple question. Who had done it?

  “If it wasn’t you,” Emily said, “who did?”

  The dull throbbing in her head grew louder. “We’re going back to Raven Hall,” Emily said. Judging from the other students running in all directions, she wasn’t the only one who had come to the same conclusion. “I don’t think the party is going to restart.”

  “Probably not,” Frieda agreed. She looked shocked, as if she’d finally realized that the ongoing war was a disaster waiting to happen. “What... what happened?”

  “Someone just decided to start a war,” Emily guessed. She shook her head, feeling pieces of meat and gravy falling out of her hair, then led the way back to the hall. “And I really need to go to bed.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “WAKE UP,” A VOICE SNAPPED. “Emily, wake up!”

  Emily opene
d her eyes. It felt as though she hadn’t slept at all, although a quick glance at the clock in the far corner of the hall told her that it was early morning, nearly twelve hours after the disastrous feast. She rubbed her eyes before she looked up.

  Frieda was securely held between the two Dueling Mistresses, her hands hidden behind her back. Emily stared, realizing dully that Frieda’s hands were tied. She was in deep trouble.

  “By order of the Administration,” Mistress Hitam said, “Frieda, Daughter of Huckeba, is hereby expelled from the academy. You will now bid farewell to your Shadow.”

  Emily gathered herself, desperately. “She didn’t do it,” she said, cursing her headache. It was so hard to think clearly. “It wasn’t her fault.”

  “The Administration has decided that her antics can no longer be tolerated,” Mistress Hitam said. “She will be expelled without delay. You can consider yourself on suspension, young lady, until the academic investigation is completed. A proctor will bring you before the committee later in the day, whereupon you will be expected to answer questions. Your future at this institution hangs in the balance.”

  “But she didn’t do it,” Emily insisted. Her headache made it impossible to form a more coherent argument, but somehow she managed to stand up. “You can’t expel her for a crime she didn’t commit.”

  “She has served as the linchpin for offences against law and order,” Mistress Hitam informed her. “And your involvement in this affair has yet to be determined.”

  She glowered at Emily. “Until the matter is resolved, you are forbidden to leave Raven Hall,” she added. “Should you be caught out of bounds, you will be immediately expelled, without appeal. I urge you, if you wish to continue to study here, to do as I tell you.”

  “But...”

  Mistress Hitam ignored her. Instead, she turned to face the other girls.

  “You will leave Emily strictly alone until this matter is resolved,” she stated. “Any offenders will be dragged into the inquiry, too.”

  She walked off, dragging Frieda with her. The Shadow’s hands were firmly bound behind her back, making it difficult to use magic. As her head started to pound in earnest, Emily wondered why they hadn’t turned her into something harmless. But she reasoned it was all about humiliation. Even if Frieda managed to remain at Mountaintop, no one would ever forget she’d been bound and marched around like a common criminal. She tried to find her voice, to find words to argue, but her head swum instead and she staggered and fell back on the bed.

  “Sleep,” a voice whispered. “And don’t worry about a thing.”

  The voice must have been a spell, Emily realized, as she opened her eyes again. She felt better as her headache was gone, but once she looked at Frieda’s bed, her heart plunged into despair. They’d even taken the damned bedding!

  And where had they taken Frieda?

  They said no one could leave during term-time, Emily thought, numbly. She sat up. Then removed the rest of her dress and swapped it for a robe. Her pretty blue dress had been stained, torn and utterly ruined. So where have they taken her?

  She looked around and discovered a large bottle of water beside her bed, along with several smaller potion gourds. Wincing at the thought of tasting yet more potions, she performed a quick check and discovered that one of them–marked so she would drink it last–was a sleeping potion, potent enough to send her into darkness for nearly a day. How would that help her concentrate once the proctor came to fetch her? She couldn’t take that now.

  But she drank the others, then swallowed the water afterward as quickly as possible. It didn’t improve the taste.

  The hall was empty, she discovered, as she made her way to the washroom to answer the call of nature. She thought about going back to bed, but the thought of Frieda being expelled worried her enough to keep her awake. Perhaps she could bargain with Aurelius... she did have something he wanted, after all. Or she could send a note with Frieda asking the Grandmaster to consider offering her a place at Whitehall. She had a hell of a lot of potential for someone who had grown up in such a soul-crushing place to live.

  The Dueling Mistress told you to stay here, her thoughts reminded her. But I have somewhere to go if Mountaintop kicks me out.

  Her magic still felt odd when she reached for it, but the touch of the power against her mind was one hell of a confidence boost. She walked towards the door, half-expecting to walk into a ward keeping her trapped, yet nothing happened. Emily puzzled over it for a long moment, then decided that the tutors must have decided to tempt her into breaking her confinement, giving them an excuse to expel her. Shaking her head, she created a light globe–the effort wasn’t painful, but it was draining–and walked down the corridor. Fortunately, she encountered no one until she reached Aurelius’s office. A grim-faced woman she had never seen before was standing in front of it, her arms crossed under her breasts.

  “The Administrator is busy,” she said. She didn’t seem to recognize Emily, which surprised her. But then, all of the portraits Emily had seen of herself were–at best–pitiful renditions of her true appearance. “You may make an appointment with me.”

  “I need to see him at once,” Emily said. “This is important.”

  “It’s always important,” the woman said. “If you’ve been sent here for punishment, report to Mistress Granite, who will handle you. If not...”

  “Well,” Emily interrupted crossly, “it’s good to see that the school is maintaining its ability to punish students while everything else is in disarray.”

  “Discipline must be maintained,” the woman said, firmly. “And I...”

  She stopped as magic flickered around her. “You may enter,” she said, in a very different tone of voice. “I apologize.”

  Emily blinked in surprise, then stepped through the door. She’d half-expected to step into a room crammed with students awaiting punishment, but the chamber was empty. The door to the inner office gaped open, invitingly, and she walked towards it. Inside, Aurelius was sitting at his desk, reading a long piece of paper. He didn’t look happy.

  “I believe you were told to stay in Raven Hall,” he said. His words were disapproving, but his tone was more amused than annoyed. “Do you have a habit of only following the rules when it suits you?”

  “I have yet to meet a magician who doesn’t,” Emily said, as she walked up to his desk and stood in front of it, clasping her hands behind her back to keep them from shaking. “Isn’t magic all about breaking the normal rules?”

  “Magic is part of the rules,” Aurelius grunted. He looked up at her, darkly. “Why are you here, Lady Emily?”

  “My Shadow has been expelled,” Emily said. “I...”

  “Yes,” Aurelius agreed. “A number of staff worked together to organize the expulsion hearing, which was held only hours after the budding riot was finally quelled and the injured were carted off to the Healers. They voted in favor of expulsion and took your Shadow Freda...”

  “Frieda,” Emily corrected.

  “...into custody,” Aurelius continued, ignoring her correction. “The expulsion cannot be countermanded by anyone short of the MageMaster.”

  Emily clenched her fists. “Where is she now?”

  “In custody,” Aurelius said. “And you will not be allowed to visit her.”

  “I thought you wanted my help,” Emily snarled. “I could...”

  “You cannot visit her because the terms of expulsion forbid it,” Aurelius said. “I could not authorize you to visit her, Emily, because the other tutors have put her in the box. She will be sent home at the end of term unless she can find another placement. There’s no shortage of Great Houses willing to hire servants with some magic of their own.”

  “Or she could go to Whitehall,” Emily said. “I could write a letter and ask the Grandmaster to take her on.”

  “It won’t do any harm if you write the letter,” Aurelius said. “But she will have to live with the stigma of being expelled–and for good reason. I do not believe
the Grandmaster would take her on willingly.”

  “It wasn’t her who started the food fight,” Emily said. “And...”

  “That does not matter,” Aurelius countered. “The tutors have voted to expel her as a dangerous and subversive influence. You should have taken her firmly in hand when you started to teach her.”

  Emily stared at him. “I...”

  “You were given power over her to shape her footsteps and guide her ways,” Aurelius said, flatly. “I thought you understood. She was there to learn from you as well as serve you. Instead, you placed a dangerous weapon in her hands without teaching her the morals of actually using it.”

  “And none of the well-born children had any such training?” Emily asked. “Or did they get told that it was all right to pick on the commoners?”

  “This wasn’t a single incident,” Aurelius said, softly. “This was a whole series of incidents, some alarmingly close to dangerous. The decision cannot be reversed, save by the MageMaster.”

  Emily stared at him, wondering if he’d manipulated the whole situation to gain Emily’s endorsement. If she offered to support him, would he undo the expulsion? Or would he try to smooth Frieda’s path to Whitehall? Or... but cold logic suggested otherwise. If Aurelius couldn’t undo the expulsion, couldn’t even hold out hope of undoing the expulsion, what did it matter what she offered to do?

  “But what,” she asked bitterly, “should I have done?”

  “Stopped her,” Aurelius said, simply. “You were an only child, weren’t you?”

  Emily nodded. That wasn’t really a secret.

  “You were meant to be her big sister, but also her supervisor,” Aurelius said. “But all you did was recklessly place a weapon in her hands. You had authority to deal with her in any way you saw fit, from assigning lines to smacking her in front of the entire hall. Instead, you chose not to supervise her at all.”