I nodded. My father was the most powerful man in the city - and Akin’s father was a close second. A very close second. They might have worked together to find us, after we’d been kidnapped, but they would never like each other. Worse, Dad had openly speculated that Akin’s father - or someone else within his family - might have planned and carried out the kidnapping, risking the life of his son and heir to get their hands on the only known Zero. I didn't believe it, but I understood the logic. Akin might be the heir, pro tem, yet he wasn't the only candidate.
And Lord Rubén doesn’t want a female heir, I reminded myself. It was odd, but House Rubén was the oldest of the Great Houses. They made a point of continuing traditions the rest of us had long-since abandoned. Their founder had only wanted patriarchs, so the modern generation also wanted patriarchs. I didn't blame Isabella for being angry at her father’s casual dismissal. I just wished she hadn't taken it out on me. One of his brothers could have plotted the kidnapping, hoping to remove both me and Akin in a single blow.
Dad reached forward and pulled back the drapes. I peered through the glass, just in time to watch the carriage rattle over the bridge into North Shallot. A small army of guardsmen seemed to be patrolling the streets, spellcasters at the ready; the shops and guildhouses were closed, as if their owners expected trouble. I thought I caught a glimpse of a Kingsman in his magnificent silver armour, but it might have been one of the prince’s household guards. He would hardly have come alone.
I looked at Dad. “Did the prince take Magus Court?”
Dad’s expression managed - somehow - to darken further. “He’s currently staying in the Westland Lodge,” he said. “It has been quite awkward.”
“Ouch,” I said. The Westland Lodge was a royal residence in all but name. And yet, it was also used to host meetings on neutral ground. No doubt a great many conferences had had to be cancelled in a hurry, just so the staff could prepare themselves for the prince’s visit. “Is that going to cause problems?”
“Let us hope not,” Dad said.
I looked at Rose, who'd shrank back against the cushions as if she was afraid she'd be whipped. I pointed out of the window, telling her about some of the older buildings in the centre of the city in the hopes of distracting her. Most of the buildings dated all the way back to the Thousand-Year Empire, although none of them had actually flown. Shallot had been established as a trading town well before the fall of the empire and no one had ever believed it would grow into a significant city. It probably wouldn't have, if the empire hadn't collapsed. A combination of luck, good judgement and careful planning had taken the city through the dark ages and allowed it to claim a unique position within the kingdom. And my family had been at the centre of it.
Or so we are told, I thought, and shivered. I knew, better than anyone, just how many secrets had been lost - or deliberately destroyed - in the past. How much of the history we take for granted was rewritten over the years?
I pushed the thought aside as Magus Court came into view. It looked remarkable, for a place with such a foreboding reputation. It was a palace, a fairytale palace, made out of something that looked like glass or marble, but very definitely wasn't either. The secret of whatever had been used to make the building was long gone, unfortunately. Magus Court looked fragile, so fragile that a single gust of wind might be enough to smash it, yet the building had endured everything from rogue warlocks to storms blowing in from the sea. The building was over a thousand years old.
“Wow,” Rose said. “This is ...”
Her voice trailed away. It struck me that she might never have seen the building before. She’d gone to Aguirre Hall, but we hadn't given her a tour of North Shallot. I promised myself I’d take her over the summer holidays, if I could get permission to invite her to stay in the city. We could meet up with Akin and have a proper tour. Our fathers wouldn't be happy, but I thought they’d understand. Rose was my closest friend. I hadn't had a proper friend since it had become clear that I couldn't do magic.
I reached for my spectacles and put them on as the carriage passed a pair of armsmen and turned into the courtyard. Instantly, the scene was transformed. I could see threads of magic running through the entire building, drawing on the magic field to hold the building together. I sucked in my breath as I realised, slowly, just what I was seeing. Magus Court - all of Magus Court - was a single, giant Object of Power. My heart started to race as I tried to grasp the sheer scale of the project. I couldn't have done it, not alone. Dozens, perhaps hundreds, of Zeroes had to have worked on the building.
We’ve got a long way to go, I thought. As far as I knew, I was still the only Zero. How many people would've been needed to build Magus Court?
I started to try to figure it out, then stopped as the carriage lurched to a halt. I took the spectacles off and returned them to my pocket. The door opened a second later, revealing a set of steps leading down to the cobbled ground. Dad walked down first, followed by the two of us. I held my head high as I’d been taught, even as the guards stared at me suspiciously. The combined scrutiny of city guardsmen and the Crown Prince’s personal armsmen was not comfortable. I could practically feel Rose shrinking behind me.
Dad nodded to the guards, then led the way through the main entrance and into a giant chamber. There were small groups of people scattered over the floor, each one centred on a family head. Everyone who was anyone had been invited to the hearing - and even if they hadn't been invited, they would have tried to come anyway. It was the networking event of the year. My lips twitched at the thought. I’d never liked networking - no one had wanted to network with me until my talents had manifested - but I’d been the catalyst for a great many other discussions. I wondered, absently, just how many of them would turn into something significant.
Rose tapped my shoulder, gently. “Akin,” she whispered, as I looked at her. “He’s over there.”
I followed her gaze. Akin was standing next to his father, wearing a miniature version of his father’s purple robes. House Ruben was the only house to wear purple, a colour that had once been reserved for the Emperor and his closest family. It was meaningless now, I thought, but they refused to let go of it. My eyes met Akin’s, just for a second, and he winked at me. I winked back.
“We should go say hello,” Rose said.
“We can't,” I muttered back. There just hadn't been time to teach Rose everything she needed to know about formal etiquette. We couldn't simply walk over and say hello. Akin was, to all intents and purposes, his father’s client. My father would have to speak to his father before we could speak to our friend. “Just stay close to my father.”
The room slowly filled with the great and the good - or at least the powerful and influential. I picked out a number of faces I’d been told to memorise: matriarchs and patriarchs, guild leaders, merchants with trading interests spread all over the world ... even a handful of foreign ambassadors. The latter seemed particularly interested in me. Their gazes bored into me whenever I looked in their direction. If Mum hadn't drilled me so intensely in formal etiquette, I would have cringed under their gaze. It made me want to hide.
Chin up, I told myself, firmly. They can't be as bad as the grand dames of society.
I smiled, despite myself. The grand dames didn't seem to do anything, as far as I could tell, apart from attending tea parties and criticising children. A single hair out of place would be grounds for a full interrogation as the dames demanded to know why I was letting the family down. One of them had even had the nerve to walk into my father’s workroom and demand to know why I wasn't wearing a dress while I practiced forging. Did she really think anyone would forge in an expensive dress?
“He’s coming over,” Rose whispered.
“Don’t speak until you are spoken to,” I whispered back. Lord Carioca Rubén was walking towards us, Akin trailing him like a lost puppy. He looked to have recovered from the kidnapping, although there was no way to be sure. If he was having nightmares, he’d do everything in
his power to keep his dormmates from learning about them. “We have to be polite.”
“Lord Aguirre,” Carioca said. “It is a great pleasure to see you again.”
“Likewise,” Dad said. Neither man sounded particularly sincere. “I trust that your son has recovered from his experiences?”
“My son has indeed recovered,” Carioca said. His gaze flickered over Rose, but lingered on me. “And your daughter and her friend?”
“They have returned to school,” Dad said, which wasn't an answer. “I have yet to discover the guiding hands behind the plot.”
“I have not discovered anyone, either,” Carioca said. His voice was very stiff. “I request the honour of a private discussion, after the hearing.”
My father’s face went blank. I glanced at him, then Akin. My friend was red and embarrassed. There was no way he could hide his feelings on his pale face. I had the feeling he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. I understood entirely. Parents could be so embarrassing.
“It will be my pleasure,” Dad said, slowly. “Please book a suitable room.”
Carioca nodded, curtly. I thought I understood. The last thing he wanted was to appear a supplicant, certainly not to my father. I was sure he’d cast a privacy ward around us, as soon as he approached, but too many eyes would have seen him walk over to Dad. There was no hiding the fact that it had been he who’d requested the meeting. That would make life harder for him.
Perhaps, I thought.
Trumpets blew. I turned, just in time to see a trio of Kingsmen enter through the door. Their silver armour seemed to glow with a radiant light, a reminder that the armour dated all the way back to the empire too. I wondered, absently, if I could make it myself. The silver wouldn't be too hard to work, but carving the correct runes into the various pieces would be difficult. And then it would have to flow into a single Object of Power ...
“Great Lords and Ladies,” the herald bellowed. “Henry, Crown Prince of Tintagel! Princess Saffron of North Cairnbulg!”
I knelt. Everyone knelt, save for the matriarchs and patriarchs. I kept my head bowed, but managed to look towards the Crown Prince and his wife. They made a stunning pair. The prince wore golden armour that shone so brightly it was actually hard to see his face, while his dark-skinned bride wore a white gown that outshone every other dress in the room. Her skin was lighter than mine - she’d been born on the northern side of the Great Minima Desert, while my ancestors had been born in the south - but her hair was actually darker. I hadn't believed that possible. Maybe it was just a charm. The courtly fashions of Tintagel were always a month or two ahead of Shallot.
The Crown Prince walked forward slowly, looking neither left nor right. I concentrated, trying to force my eyes to see through the glow. He was blond, strikingly blond; I wondered, darkly, if he was related to Akin and Isabella. His hair was cut in a simple style, rather than shaped into an elaborate hairstyle; he didn't even wear a wig. He was stunningly handsome, with muscles on his muscles; his blue eyes were practically glowing with life. I couldn't help feeling that it was too good to be true. A glamour? I wanted to slip on my spectacles, just to take a look. But I didn't dare try to put them on in front of the entire room.
He couldn't hope to fool everyone in the city, I told myself. Traditionally, glamours were respected - cancelling someone’s glamour was regarded with the same kind of horror reserved for ripping off someone’s clothes - but I wasn't sure that rule applied to the Crown Prince. They’d know he was using a glamour.
The Crown Prince seemed to look at me, just for a second. I looked down, hastily. When I looked up again, he was making his way into the courtroom. Perhaps I’d imagined it ...
“The formalities are concluded,” the herald informed us. “You may rise, and enter the courtroom.”
Dad helped me to my feet. “You’ll be in the witness box,” he reminded me. “Remember what I said.”
“I will,” I promised. The butterflies in my stomach were growing worse. “And afterwards ...”
“We’ll talk about it later,” Dad said. He squeezed my hand, reassuringly. “It's going to be fine.”
“I hope so,” I muttered back.
Chapter Three
Rose walked behind, so close she kept bumping into me, as we entered the courtroom and made our way down towards the witness box. It was a large chamber, yet it wasn't anything like big enough to accommodate everyone who wanted to attend. Great Lords and Ladies were standing against the wooden walls, while others - of lesser rank - were being told to watch from the balcony or stand outside and listen through scrying spells. I allowed myself a sigh of relief as I saw Sir Griffons sitting in the witness box, wearing the sword I’d forged for him. At least we wouldn't be completely alone.
“I don’t know which of us will be called first,” he told us, as we took our seats. Akin joined us a moment later. “We’ll just have to wait.”
I nodded, stiffly. It wasn’t precisely a trial, but there would still be consequences if we lied ... or did anything else that might embarrass our fathers. Dad had drilled us in basic legalities, yet I knew just how much I didn't know. I’d considered becoming a lawyer, when it had become increasingly apparent that I would never be a sorceress, but it would have been easy for my opponents to subtly hex me to ensure I lost the case.
Rose shivered as she sat down next to me. I took her hand gently, then looked around. The room was heaving. Even the balconies were standing room only. I gritted my teeth as I spotted Great Aunt Stregheria sitting on one of the upper levels, surrounded by a handful of other ladies of a certain age. She looked more like a vulture than ever, her dark eyes circling around the chamber as if she were looking for carrion. I didn't dare meet her eyes. My amulet should have protected me from anything nasty, but I knew - all too well - that Great Aunt Stregheria was formidable. I wouldn't have put it past her to find a way to embarrass my father in public.
I returned my gaze to the front of the room. The Crown Prince was sitting in the judge’s seat, flanked by his wife and an odd-looking man in an elaborate wig. Below him, the five quaestors were waiting for the inquest to begin. Their faces were so blank that I knew they were nervous. Questioning children wasn't an easy task at the best of times, but Akin and I both came from powerful families. Irritating both families would probably cost the quaestors their careers.
The doors closed with an audible BANG. The funny-looking man stood.
“In line with the standards laid down by the first assembly of mages, nine hundred years ago, I declare this hearing open,” he said. He had to be the clerk, probably the Crown Prince’s personal clerk. I’d never seen him before. “I call Lead Quaestor Mathis to the stand.”
Mathis stood. I studied him with some interest. He was a tall thin man, with light skin and dark hair slowly turning grey. It was hard to be sure, but I thought he was around ten years older than my father. He didn't seem to care about his appearance, even though he could have dyed his hair or simply used a glamour. But then, quaestors were devoted to the truth. Mathis probably thought that using a glamour was a lie.
“We are gathered here today to conduct a hearing into the abduction of three children from Jude’s Sorcerous Academy,” he said. His voice was as dry as dust. “It was decided, under the circumstances, that the hearing would be conducted publicly. Therefore ...”
I did my best to listen as he droned on and on, discussing the progress the quaestors had made so far and running through an entire series of legal caveats that left me wanting to close my eyes and go to sleep. The Crown Prince managed to look interested - I couldn't help feeling a little envious - but others seemed to be having trouble keeping their eyes open. It was a relief, almost, when I was called to the stand.
We needed to practice, I thought, as I walked forward. I was painfully aware that every eye in the chamber was watching me. And we didn't have time.
“Place your hands on the wood,” the clerk said. I did, feeling my amulet grow warm as my finger
touched the wood. There was a charm carefully woven into the stand, almost certainly a truth spell. And probably designed to encourage me to talk freely too. I hoped my amulet could deflect it. There were too many details I didn't want to share with anyone. “Tell us one truth and one lie.”
“My name is Caitlyn,” I said. “And I’m twenty-five years old.”
The air around me turned green, then red. I winced, inwardly. The colour should have been brighter ... perhaps it was merely a function of the spell. I’d lied, but not with malicious intent. Or maybe the amulet was already countering the spell. I couldn't feel any impulse to talk, but that was meaningless. A good truth spell would be designed to ensure that the victim didn't know she was enchanted.
“Thank you,” Mathis said. “Would you please tell us, in your own words, what happened during the abduction?”
I took a moment to gather my thoughts, choosing my words carefully. I told them about Rolf and his friends luring us out of the school’s wards, then detailed everything from the moment we’d woken up in Fairuza’s clutches to our daring escape. The room seemed to echo with gasps as I told them about the Eternal City, then how we’d managed to make our way up the coastline until we’d finally been rescued by the Kingsmen. I carefully didn't tell them anything about the magic field. They didn't need to know.
The Zero Equation (The Zero Enigma Book 3) Page 3