We might as well try to bring back the dead, I thought. There were always stories of magicians resurrecting the dead, but none of them had ever been confirmed. You can't undo a spell that kills the body - or the mind.
He said nothing else until we were back in the carriage. “I’ll take you back to the school now,” he said. “Please extend my apologies to Rose for sending her back early.”
“I will,” I said. It had been impolite to send Rose back, but I was relieved that she hadn't been there to witness Dad’s cold anger. “What else do you want me to do?”
“Just ... try to act normally,” Dad said. He leaned against the wooden panelling as the carriage lurched into motion. “I know ... it won’t be easy.”
“No,” I agreed. “Will I ... will I be called to testify again?”
“I don’t think so,” Dad said. “I filed a fairly strong brief arguing that you and your friends are underage, thus you shouldn't be questioned repeatedly. So did Carioca, to give the man his due. The Crown Prince may want to talk to you again, but legally he has to go through us first. I’ll make sure you have plenty of warning.”
If you can, I thought. The hearing had been set up before we'd even escaped, with the intention of determining precisely how Rolf and his friends had managed to snatch us out of the school. It had changed, rapidly, as soon as we’d made it back home. The Crown Prince may not give you the time.
I looked down at the carpet below my feet. “What if he tries to talk to us without you?”
“Legally, he can’t.” Dad frowned as if the thought hadn't occurred to him. “If he does, inform him that you want your father to be present. Make sure Rose knows to ask for me too.”
I smiled. “Perhaps you and Carioca should both patronise Rose,” I said. “It would make it harder for you two to fight.”
Dad smiled back. “Rose isn't important enough to balance the houses,” he said. “If she was another Zero ...”
“I know,” I said, feeling a trace of the old resentment. Rose had power, but as yet no skill; I had skill, yet no power. But ... I had another source of power. I’d never be able to snap my fingers and turn someone into a frog, but I could build Objects of Power that could. “It was just a thought.”
“And not a bad one,” Dad said. “Just ... impractical.”
He cleared his throat. “There’s one other matter I wanted to raise with you,” he added. “I want you to talk to your sister.”
I froze. I knew which sister he meant.
“I don’t want to talk to Alana,” I said. She’d left me alone since we returned from the Eternal City and I was grateful. Maybe she couldn't hex me at will any longer. That didn't mean I wanted to spend more time with her than I had to. “Dad ...”
Dad held up his hand. “I understand she hasn't made your life very easy,” he said. “But she was shocked, honestly shocked, when you were kidnapped. If she hadn't given us that blood sample ...”
“She got that sample by tearing an earring out of my ear,” I said, savagely. Too late, I remembered I wasn't going to tattle. I’d already deflected Dad’s questions about precisely where the blood sample had come from. “Dad, I ... I already took revenge.”
Dad frowned. “You and Alana have to grow up,” he said. “You can't spend the rest of your life at daggers drawn.”
I started to giggle, hysterically. Alana had spent six years humiliating me in every way she could imagine, just because I didn't have magic. My mere existence weakened her claim to the matriarchy. After all, if there was something wrong with me, perhaps there was something wrong with her too. And then - and then - she’d discovered that I had a gift of my own, and she’d started to envy me instead. She still resented me. She still hated me.
“She hates me,” I said.
“If she hated you, she wouldn't have given me the blood sample,” Dad pointed out. “I could have forced her to tell me precisely how she took it.”
I didn't want to admit it, but he had a point. Taking a blood sample without permission was a serious crime. Alana had taken a considerable risk when she’d handed it over to Dad, knowing that he might force her to admit what she’d done and then punish her. Dad would not have been amused. A blood sample in the wrong hands could be used for all sorts of nastiness.
Perhaps that was what she had in mind, I thought. I wasn’t sure if a spell keyed to my blood would get through my protections - and I wasn't even sure if it would affect me, given my lack of magic - but I didn't want to find out the hard way. She wouldn't have kept the blood if her intentions were pure.
I looked down at my hands again, searching for words. Too much had passed between Alana and I for me to feel comfortable opening up to her. She’d made it clear that when - not if - she inherited the matriarchy, she’d banish me. Or do worse. I’d been defenceless, more or less. She could have turned me into an animal or a statue and used a Device of Power to keep me that way. I would sooner have turned my back on Isabella than Alana.
“She was horrible,” I muttered. It wasn't fair, again. “Dad, I can't ...”
“I failed to curb her behaviour,” Dad told me. “I believed that it would be for the best, in the long run, if you learnt to defend yourself ...”
“I couldn't defend myself,” I snapped. “I had no magic!”
“I know that, now,” Dad said. His voice was calm. Too calm. “Cat ... I understand that I’ve made mistakes. I’ve made a lot of mistakes. You have no idea just how many mistakes I made when I was only a few years older than you. Alana ... she’s young. She has a chance to grow out of her ...”
I looked up. “Horribleness?”
“Exactly,” Dad said. “Please. Try to talk to her.”
I groaned. I was nervous about talking to Bella, let alone Alana. I’d ... I’d even invited Bella to join our little revision club. But Alana? I’d be frightened to turn my back on her. She was smart as well as unpleasant. She’d figured out the problem with using earrings - and turned it against me - before it had ever occurred to me. And I was the forger.
But I couldn't refuse. “I’ll try,” I promised, with the quiet understanding that I’d try as little as possible. “If she’s still a spiteful--” I took a look at Dad’s face and hastily revised the next word “--witch, I won’t try anymore.”
“That is all I can ask,” Dad said. “I did have a word with her, after your talents were discovered.”
That wasn't enough to convince her to be nice to me, I thought, sourly. That had been before she’d ripped an earring out of my ear and left me bleeding. What would convince her to behave herself?
“I’ll try,” I promised, again. “But I don’t know if I can ever forgive her.”
“You forgave Bella,” Dad said.
“Bella didn't torment me for six years,” I reminded him. Bella had hexed me a few times, but her heart hadn't really been in it. She’d been more interested in satisfying her greed than making my life miserable. “And she’s discovered she needs to study to pass her exams.”
“Quite,” Dad said. The hint of desperation in his voice silenced the remainder of my protests. “Please try, Cat. I can ask no more.”
I nodded. It seemed a good moment to press for a favour of my own. “Dad ... can Rose stay with us for the summer?”
“She may want to go see her parents, you know,” Dad reminded me. He gave me a look that suggested he knew perfectly well what I was doing. “But yes, if she wants to stay she will be welcome.”
I let out a breath. It would have been easy for Dad to say no. Mum wouldn't object to Rose staying, but some of our relatives definitely would. They’d expect Mum and Dad to spend their time with their children, not a common-born girl with no family connections worth mentioning. But Rose had saved my life. I owed her. We owed her.
“Thank you, Dad.”
Dad nodded, then glanced at his watch. “It’s nearly dinnertime,” he said. “Make sure you get plenty of rest, Cat. You’ll be starting classes again tomorrow. And exams aren’t that far a
way.”
I shrugged. There was no point in taking the exams, as far as I could tell. I could ace theory, but never practicals. The examiners would have to revise the entire curriculum to give me a chance to succeed. Or accept that I was allowed to de facto cheat. The Castellan had told me that chunks of the curriculum would be changed for me, but so far I hadn't heard anything beyond a handful of minor suggestions. The revisions were probably still in committee.
“I have to do some revision,” I said. I probably didn't have to do it, but Mum and Dad had hammered the importance of proper preparation into my head from a very early age. Besides, I might see Akin in the library. I wanted to talk to him desperately. “I’ll probably go to the library after dinner.”
“Very good,” Dad said. If he knew what I had in mind, he said nothing. The carriage lurched to a halt. “Try to change first.”
I made a face. The dress was already getting grimy. The magic had faded, the sewn runes slowly coming undone. Even the colouring looked somewhat diminished. I made a mental note of the rough timings for later reference, then smoothed the blue fabric down as the valet opened the door. We were back in the courtyard, where we’d started. It felt as though I’d been gone for days.
“Cat,” Dad said. I looked up at him. “Be careful.”
He gave me a tight hug. I hugged him back.
“I’ll be very careful,” I promised. “And thank you.”
Dad gave me a bleak look. “For what?”
Chapter Seven
Rose had already changed back into her school uniform, I discovered when I returned to the dorms. She was sitting on her bed, looking a great deal more comfortable as she slowly parsed one of the textbooks she’d borrowed from the library a few days after our return. I waved to her as I entered, then hurriedly pulled the drapes around my bed so I could change in privacy. The dress looked strikingly drab, the blue almost completely gone. I placed it on the bed for later attention and pulled on my weekend dress, then stepped back out from behind the drapes. Rose looked as tired as I felt.
“Sir Griffons got me back safely,” she said. “And everyone wanted to know what happened.”
I winced in sympathy. The entire story would be all over the city by now. I was sure I’d seen broadsheet writers in the balcony. The Crown Prince might try to keep a lid on rumours, but that would only make them worse. Everyone who was anyone had been at the hearing, along with their senior clients. They’d have no trouble putting out a fairly trustworthy version of events.
“I didn't tell them anything,” Rose added. “I wasn't sure what I should say.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I told her. “They’ll know the full story soon enough.”
I glanced from side to side, making sure that the remainder of the dorm was empty, then leaned forward. “Have you seen Akin?”
“No,” Rose said. “He was with you, wasn't he?”
“We had to leave,” I said, reluctantly. I’d assumed Akin’s father had taken him straight back to Jude’s. Perhaps they’d gone to eat first. “He’ll be back tonight, won’t he?”
Rose shot me an odd look. “You’re asking me?”
I looked down. “Sorry.”
“He’ll be back for classes tomorrow, surely,” Rose said, reassuringly. “His father wouldn't keep him back.”
“I hope not,” I said. I really needed to talk to him. “I ...”
The dinner bell rang. I straightened and waited for her to grab her blazer before we headed down. A handful of other girls poured out of the dorms and joined us as we walked down the stairs, but the majority of students would be in the Arena. The hearing wouldn't have put a stop to sports. Besides, it was Sunday. Dining times were a little more flexible on the weekend.
I looked around for Akin - or Magister Tallyman - as we entered the dining hall, but there was no sign of either of them. We took our trays of food and found a place at the firstie table, then sat down to eat. I was all too aware of older students watching me, perhaps trying to determine just what had happened during the hearing. If I was any judge, a whole string of absurd rumours had already wafted through the school. I couldn't help wondering how much money was already changing hands. The smarter students might have bet on us being taken into protective custody.
“This is good food,” Rose said, between bites. “But it’s too fancy.”
I shrugged. I didn't have the heart to tell her that it was bland, compared to the food I had at home. I wouldn't be the only one to think it was bland, too. But I wasn't going to spoil it for her. She would be lucky to get half as much to eat when she went back home. Unless she stayed with us ...
She won’t fit in with her family any longer, I thought grimly. And yet, she won’t fit in here either.
I ate my food quietly, slowly gathering my thoughts as I watched for Akin. But there was still no sign of him. Alana entered, her face as sharp as ever; I remembered my promise to Dad, then decided it could wait for a day or two. I wasn't in the mood to trade barbs with my sister. Her eyes flickered over us for a second, then she turned away. I watched her go with a mixture of relief and regret.
“I’m going for seconds,” Rose announced. “Do you want more?”
I shook my head. “I’ll wait for you,” I said, as I pulled my notebook out of my pocket and laid it on the table. “Eat what you want.”
Rose nodded and walked off, taking her plate. I found a pencil and started to sketch out what I’d seen at Magus Court, drawing out the translucent spellform pervading the giant fairytale castle. It was fascinatingly complex, almost beyond my ability to comprehend. No matter how I looked at it, I couldn't see any way to duplicate it alone. I definitely needed more than a handful of other Zeros.
Which raises the question of what happened to Tyros’s peers, I thought. If Tyros had survived the fall of the Eternal City, surely others could have survived as well. They might not even have been in the city when it fell. I doubted they’d been recalled for the celebrations when their mere existence was a secret. Why didn't they try to rebuild?
I puzzled over it for a long moment while Rose ate her second plateful, then decided there was no point in wondering. Tyros had died nearly a thousand years ago. The others wouldn't have lasted much longer, if at all. It made me wonder if some had been living and working in Shallot during the Civil Wars. But surely they would have traded the knowledge of how to produce Objects of Power for shelter and protection. The City Fathers would have understood the importance of what they were being offered.
“I won’t ever know,” I muttered.
Rose glanced at me. “What?”
“I’ll tell you later,” I said. She’d almost finished her meal. I poured myself a glass of water and waited for her to finish the last bites. “Shall we go?”
I took one last look around the hall as we handed our plates back to the staff. The room had filled while I’d been working, but there was still no sign of Akin. I gritted my teeth in frustration - I doubted his sister would take a message for me - and followed Rose out of the chamber. A handful of upperclassmen eyed her nastily, but said nothing. They’d seen me follow her.
The stairwell felt oddly empty as we made our way up to the library. I saw a couple of students hurrying down, but otherwise there was no one in sight. I couldn't help feeling nervous, clutching the protective bracelet around my wrist as I looked from side to side. But no threat materialised until we entered the library. A grim-faced librarian was glaring at a second-year who’d dared to bring back an overdue library book.
“The study rooms are all reserved,” she called to us. “You’ll have to use the tables at the back.”
“Reserved? Now?” Rose looked surprised. “What’s happening?”
“The upperclassmen will be taking their mocks in a week or two,” I said. I hadn't been following their schedule particularly closely, but we were coming up to exam season. “If they do badly in the real exams, they can use the mocks to argue that they should get better grades.”
Ros
e lifted her eyebrows. “And if they do worse in the mocks, does that mean they have to argue they should get worse grades?”
I had to laugh. “For some reason, no one ever argues that,” I said. I vaguely recalled Dad saying something about mock exams being used to catch cheats, but I hadn't been paying close attention. Anyone clever enough to circumvent the anti-cheating spells on the examination rooms would probably be given a sharp kick up the backside and an automatic pass. “It’s really a way to convince them that they have to study hard.”
“Oh,” Rose said, deadpan. “Don’t they already know it?”
I shrugged. “They’ve been at school for seven years,” I said. “If they don’t know it by now ... well, this is their last chance.”
We collected a handful of books, then hurried over to find a table at the rear. I didn't want to run into a stressed upperclassman, not when it would probably lead to us getting lines just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Rose opened the first book, then recovered her notebook and started to copy down a runic diagram. I reached for a book on complex potions theory and started reading through the latest set of formulas. Some were only theoretical.
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