“I believe we should be thanking you,” Madame Kyla said. “Good luck.”
Caleb waited outside, looking worried. He swept Emily up into a hug as soon as he saw her, holding her tightly. Emily leaned against him for a long moment, feeling weaker than she cared to admit, then allowed him to help her down the stairwell to the Grandmaster’s office. The walls had returned to normal, but the floors were covered in debris. It would be weeks, even with every tutor and student working 24/7, before the school returned to something resembling normal. She could feel the wards, thrumming in the background, as they stopped outside the office. Caleb and Frieda wouldn’t be allowed to accompany her further.
“We’ll wait for you,” Caleb said.
Emily smiled, rather sadly, then knocked on the door. It opened at once, revealing that the doorway to the Grandmaster’s inner office was also open. There was no sign of Madame Griselda. Emily took a moment to gather herself, then strode forward into Gordian’s office and closed the door behind her. Gordian sat behind his desk, his hands folded neatly in front of him; he nodded toward a chair placed in front of his desk. Emily sat, surprised by the consideration. She’d expected to be forced to stand, even though she doubted she could have remained upright for long.
“Emily,” Gordian said. “What am I going to do with you?”
Emily said nothing. She doubted she could say anything that would influence his judgement one way or the other, even if she hadn’t been tired and worn. Madame Kyla and Melissa had forced her to drink a number of foul-tasting brews, but she knew the only real cure for what ailed her was sleep. And sleep wasn’t going to come quickly.
“On one hand, you saved the school,” Gordian said. “And on the other, you attacked three tutors. If we hadn’t found evidence that Professor Locke intended to cast a torture spell on you, Emily, we would be having a very different conversation.”
“Yes, sir,” Emily whispered.
“Professor Lombardi and Professor Jayne have forsaken their right of vengeance,” Gordian added, after a long moment. His lips quirked. “They could hardly do otherwise, given that you are a student and they are experienced tutors. Explaining that you managed to get past them would prove very embarrassing.”
He smiled, rather thinly. “Not that you won’t be paying a price for it, of course.”
Emily nodded. The rules that had forced Master Grey to manipulate her into challenging him, instead of the other way round, would keep both of the professors from seeking revenge, but she suspected she’d be hammered with punishment exercises and detentions for the rest of term. Gordian would probably look the other way, as long as matters didn’t get out of hand. She just hoped that the rest of the school didn’t know the exact details.
“Professor Locke is currently in the Halfway House,” Gordian added. “The... curse he intended to cast on you, the curse that exploded in his face, did a considerable amount of damage to his health. It is unlikely that he will survive, let alone recover.”
Emily winced. She couldn’t have let him torture her, but she hadn’t meant to inflict permanent harm. And yet, he’d been the one who’d cast the torture curse. It wouldn’t have broken through his protections if he hadn’t been the one who’d cast it.
“And that leaves me with a question,” Gordian said. “What am I going to do with you?”
Emily met his eyes. “I saved the school.”
“You did,” Gordian agreed. “And I cannot really blame you for causing the disaster.”
“No, sir,” Emily said.
“On the other hand, you did assault two tutors without provocation,” Gordian added. “There are grounds to expel you, Emily.”
“I know,” Emily said. The bastard was dragging it out, deliberately. She just wanted to get it over with. “Are you going to?”
“I don’t think so,” Gordian said. He gave her a thin smile. “Personally, I believe that your actions make up for your crimes. This time. The exact details of what happened are unknown to the student body, so there is no need to make an example of you. Still”—he looked pained—“you will remain a probationary student for the moment.”
Emily nodded. It was the best she could have expected.
“Go back to your bedroom and get some rest,” Gordian ordered. “Your roommate has already been reassigned to another room, at least for the next few days. I’ll have a tray of food sent to your room, later.”
“Thank you,” Emily said, surprised.
She paused. “There was something else, sir.”
Gordian lifted his eyebrows, waiting.
“I was thrown out of the network when I tried to scan for the books,” Emily said. “Whoever took them knew how to use the network too.”
“Worrying,” Gordian said. “The control room is currently sealed and we’re checking every trunk taken out of the castle. They have to be somewhere within the building.”
He shrugged. “That isn’t your problem,” he added. “Go get some rest. Report to Master Tor when you feel up to going back to work.”
Emily nodded, rose and walked through the door. There was still no sign of the Grandmaster’s secretary as she passed through the outer office and into the corridor. Caleb waited for her, but Frieda was missing.
“Sergeant Miles demanded she help him clean up the mess,” Caleb said, as she took his hand. “Where do you want to go?”
“My bedroom,” Emily said. She felt grimy, even though someone had changed her clothes and wiped her down while she’d slept. “Are the showers working?”
“They are,” Caleb confirmed. He helped her up the stairs, passing a small pile of broken and discarded paintings. “You should rest, though.”
“I know,” Emily said. A wicked thought struck her. “Would you like to join me? I mean...”
Her face reddened. “I mean, share a bed,” she added. “Just... sleeping together.”
Caleb looked astonished. “If you’ll let me,” he said, finally. “Will you?”
Emily nodded, firmly, as they reached her room. Her trunk was on the far side of the chamber, for no apparent reason, but the rest of the room seemed intact. She scooped up a nightgown—one of the heavier ones she’d purchased, rather than the silken gowns Queen Marlena kept sending her—and hurried into the bathroom while Caleb sat on the bed. What had she agreed to do? She’d never shared a bed with anyone before, save Alassa. And she wouldn’t have done that if the Princess hadn’t just survived an assassination attempt.
And it isn’t uncommon for girls to share beds—boys, too—without there being anything sexual about it, she thought, as she lingered under the warm water. It was easy to forget how wonderful hot running water was until one no longer had it. But this is different.
She dried herself, then pulled the heavy nightgown over her head and walked back into the bedroom. Caleb had removed his shoes and transfigured his robe into a long nightshirt, his bare knees visible to her gaze. Emily tensed, then forced herself to walk to the bed. It struck her, a moment too late, that the bed was really too small for both of them, but it couldn’t be helped.
“Just hold me,” she said, as she settled down next to him. It felt odd to have a warm body pressed against her, with her body torn between enjoyment and panic. “Please.”
“I will,” Caleb said. She felt him kiss the back of her neck as sleep overcame her. “I love you...”
Her eyes snapped open. It was dark, save for a faint lunar glow from the window. Caleb slept next to her, snoring gently. His arm was wrapped around her, touching the underside of her breasts. It was odd, she thought, that she felt so comfortable, even though physical intimacy scared her. She didn’t want to move away...
And then she felt a call, pulling at her.
She shifted Caleb’s arm gingerly, somehow aware she didn’t want to wake him. The call grew stronger; behind it, she heard the thrumming of the nexus point. It crossed her mind, as she pulled on her slippers and headed for the door, that something was very wrong, but she felt nothing. The
door opened and she stepped out into the corridor, moving in a daze as if sleepwalking towards the door back into the school. It felt almost as if she were watching herself from a far distance, her body no longer under her control. And yet she felt no trace of alarm.
This is wrong, she told herself, as she picked her way down the stairwell. The very dulling of her emotions was wrong. She knew, at some level, that she was being controlled, that someone was manipulating her body, but she found it hard to care. This is wrong...
The gates to the nexus chamber loomed up in front of her, the hexes that had guarded them no longer present. She wafted down the corridor, trying hard to keep her feet from moving any further, but it was futile. The nexus point itself unfolded in front of her, a shimmering haze that seemed both infinitely huge and infinitely small. Her mind refused to grasp what she was seeing, even as her feet carried her towards the nexus...
No, she thought, desperately. Her thoughts cleared, long enough for her to panic; the shock snapped the spell controlling her body. NO!
Emily stumbled, nearly falling over before she caught herself. The call was gone, yet the nexus point was still in front of her. It was hard to tear her gaze away from the shimmering magic, even though it made her head hurt. The power ebbed and flowed in directions she couldn’t even begin to grasp. There was something about it utterly beyond her comprehension. She started to turn, intending to walk away...
Something moved behind her. She had no time to react before she felt a shove, pitching her forward into the nexus point. And she fell.
A jagged set of impressions assaulted her mind. She was falling downwards, the world spinning around her. Something scratched at the edge of reality, demanding entrance; she was suddenly aware, very aware, of necromancer-red eyes peering at her. And yet, there was something about them that told her a necromancer would be preferable. She felt naked, horribly violated, merely by meeting their gaze. They were utterly inhuman...
... Creatures scuttled past her, their forms so hard for her to grasp that she was barely even aware they were there. Her mind recoiled, refusing to look at them; she tried to close her eyes, but she couldn’t move a muscle. She wanted to scream as she felt them running over her body. Her fall seemed to pick up speed, yet... yet she thought, in some way, that she hadn’t moved at all. She wanted to scream as the nexus point billowed around her, brilliant white light burning into her eyeballs...
... And then she landed on cold stone.
Someone shouted in surprise, but she barely heard them. All that mattered was the torrent of power behind her, the torrent of power and the handful of spells that were trying to gain control of the nexus point. It was a ritual, like the one Gordian had made her do, yet it was failing. The nexus point was about to discharge enough energy that the survivors, if there were any survivors, would envy the dead. Instinctively, she reached out to add her power to the ritual, showing the casters how to keep the nexus under control. The nexus point drew back, just long enough for the sorcerers to slam spell after spell into place.
And then, the room was suddenly very quiet.
Emily knelt, blinking desperately. Her eyes hurt, the afterimage so bright that she could barely see. But she could hear men in the chamber, men talking in a language she didn’t recognize. She managed to cast a translation spell, despite the pain, as she heard the sound of echoing footsteps approaching her. Someone was right in front of her...
Somehow, she managed to speak. “Who... who are you?”
“I am Lord and Master Whitehall,” the man said, gravely. “Who are you?
End of Book Nine
Emily Will Be Back (In Time) In
Past Tense
Coming Soon
Afterword
This probably requires some explanation—and an apology.
As a reader, I have grown to detest books that are really nothing more than oversized chapters; Game of Thrones, Wheel of Time, Safehold, etc. I feel they are unfair to readers, who are constantly promised a payoff that never truly materializes. That’s why I have worked hard to make sure that my series books are separate stories in their own right, even though they fit into an overall story arc.
Infinite Regress/Past Tense is the first exception.
When I drew up the plot, it became clear that it couldn’t fit into a single normal-sized Schooled in Magic book. One half of the plot would be overwhelmed by the other half, depriving my readers. Therefore, I decided to split the plot into two books, which would allow me to explore other aspects of the new Status Quo. By way of compensation, I intend to write Book Ten next month.
Thank you for reading!
Chris
Appendix: Education in The Allied Lands
Education within the Allied Lands is profoundly different from the current generation of education on Earth. Almost all of it is strongly practical, rather than theoretical; the students may not want to work, but their parents demand results. Given that most education is costly, certainly by the standards of the average freeman, most teachers are happy to comply.
Students are expected to work hard, but also to find their own motivation. Tutors will not hesitate to fail a student who fails to show up, repeatedly, for lessons or is unable or unwilling to do the work. In that case, the tutors are free to pocket the fees. While tutors are regularly authorized to distribute corporal punishment at will, this is normally only used in cases of blatant disobedience or deliberate mischief. A tutor cannot be blamed, legally, for refusing to teach a student who does not want to learn.
There are no qualifications within the Allied Lands for teaching, in and of itself. Tutors are expected to demonstrate competence within the field, then supervised during their first few months in a classroom. The Allied Lands feel that a tutor is not qualified to teach unless he’s worked with the subject matter himself. Tutors who do not produce results—by their students passing practical exams—are not stripped of their titles (there’s no authority to do the stripping) but they find it impossible to gain posts as word spreads.
The Allied Lands divides education into three categories: basic, vocational and magical, which is in a class of its own.
Basic education consists of practical lessons in reading (short form), writing (short form) and basic arithmetic. A number of schools do exist in the bigger towns and cities, but the vast majority of such lessons come from traveling tutors (girls very rarely attend mundane schools, certainly outside the largest city-states) who are hired to give lessons to boys and girls. Some tutors do handle more advanced subjects—music and suchlike—but such lessons are normally well outside a freeman’s price range.
Most kingdoms will issue a certificate (the “cert”) to any student who sits for and passes a practical exam, although this is of questionable value. Mostly, the Allied Lands look for competence rather than paperwork.
It is unusual (where it isn’t forbidden) for the children of peasants, serfs and slaves to be educated. Indeed, many freemen feel that the cost of educating their children is too high... particularly when they fear it might give their children airs above their station.
As a general rule, students selected for magical education—where they weren’t already educated—will receive six months to a year of basic education, paid for by their school’s funds.
Vocational education covers specific training to hold down a job and ranges from skills like advanced reading and writing (the scribes), advanced arithmetic (the accountants) to craftsmanship (blacksmiths, carpenters, etc.) These are either offered by schools run by the guilds—places are normally offered to the children of guildsmen, although some guilds do offer scholarships—or offered by a master who is looking for an apprentice. In the case of the latter, the apprentice works for the master while gaining a practical education and the eventual right to claim a cert.
If a student is passed by his (or, very rarely, her) master, he will be given a cert signed by the master. The cert’s value often depends on just how respected the master is. A student at one
of the guildhouses will be tested by his superiors, then issued a cert. If he does not receive his cert, he cannot take up a place in the guild. (In theory, a cert cannot be revoked; in practice, the guild can often prevent someone in bad grace from finding employment.)
A cert from one kingdom is rarely useful in another.
Magical education is a little more complex.
Prospective students either come from known magical bloodlines (like Melissa), are taken to be tested by their parents (like Imaiqah) or are identified by traveling magicians (like Frieda). Once discovered, a student will be assigned a place at one of the five major magical schools—Whitehall, Mountaintop, Stronghold, Laughter and [classified]—and offered basic education, if they haven’t received it already. Certain unusually strong students—or ones in unpleasant or unwelcoming homes—are offered the chance to enroll at once, but mostly students travel to the school towards the end of summer.
Save for Stronghold, which concentrates on combat-related magic, all of the schools follow the same basic pattern. First year provides an introduction to magic, as well as background details on magical society. Second year allows the students to take additional classes and discover their particular interests. Third and fourth years consist of the preparation for the first set of exams, after which the students can call themselves certified magicians. Fifth and sixth years consist of secondary exams in preparation for an apprenticeship, although a handful of students choose not to find (or are unable to find) a master.
Students who choose to advance to fifth and sixth years (and then to an apprenticeship) are expected to swear oaths to their school and to the Allied Lands as a whole. These oaths impose obligations on both parties; a student may not turn against the Allied Lands, but the school may not arbitrarily expel them or otherwise tinker with their education. They must also be released from the oaths if they leave the school (save for Healers, who are permanently bound by their oaths).
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