And we want the necromancers to know we’re coming, she reminded herself. They won’t react to us if they don’t know there’s something to react to.
She stepped into the command tent and scanned the room. General Pollack, Master Lucknow, Crown Prince Dater, Sergeant Miles, Lady Barb and Penny... it was an odd gathering, even though the real work had yet to begin. The last update she’d read had suggested the first true command conference would be held tomorrow, once the last of the national units and commanders had arrived. She snorted as she took her place, Cat sitting alongside. She couldn’t pretend to understand the politics. It was no offense to fail to invite someone who wasn’t there. And any officer worthy of the rank should know it.
“Lady Emily,” General Pollack said. “Thank you for coming.”
Emily nodded, leaning back and listening as conversation resumed. She’d never cared for the spotlight, never cared to speak to a crowd... she wondered, suddenly, if months of near-isolation in the tower had made it harder for her to step into the limelight. Cat didn’t seem to have any trouble. He chatted happily with Sergeant Miles and General Pollack, then flirted outrageously with Penny. Emily hid her amusement as the servants brought in the first course. Penny seemed utterly unimpressed by Cat. Instead, she kept looking at Emily as if she recognized her from somewhere.
She felt a pang of guilt. The soldiers outside the command tents wouldn’t be fed as well as this, if they were fed at all. General Pollack was a good commanding officer - and a decent man - but there were limits to his powers. He might not be able to do anything about an aristocratic commander who stole from his troops, used them as his personal servants or committed any other atrocities against the men he was supposed to lead into battle. The infantry had never been particularly well-regarded, not like the cavalry. That would change, she thought, as gunpowder weapons became more common. It would certainly be easier for men to mutiny against commanding officers who didn’t give a damn about their welfare.
And it'll serve them right, she thought. They treat their men worse than animals.
The feeling of mild disconnect grew stronger as they ate their way through a sizable feast. Emily said as little as she could, even when they discussed the plans openly. She felt uneasy, even though she knew they wanted the necromancers to know they were coming. And yet... she felt sick every time she considered the risks. If they failed, if they were trapped in the Blighted Lands, they’d be slaughtered. The necromancers would crush them and... she told herself, firmly, that they’d have the edge. She had quite a few surprises up her sleeve.
And it’s time to use them, she told herself. And see how they work in combat.
“We don’t know we’re being watched,” General Pollack said. “But it seems likely.”
Emily looked up, sharply. The Craggy Mountains weren’t completely impassable. Not completely. The region had never been properly mapped. The mountain passes had never been particularly well-charted. It was quite possible they were being watched from a safe distance. The necromancers could have recruited a few spies or simply turned birds into watching eyes or... she winced, inwardly. A handful of disinherited or disowned magicians had gone to the necromancers, offering their services in exchange for power and the promise of revenge. They should have known better, but they’d gone anyway. And others might have done the same.
“We can’t let them know we’re sneaking into their lands, as well as invading,” she said. “If they realize what we’re planning, we’re doomed.”
“That secret won’t leak out,” General Pollack assured her. “I’ll make sure of it.”
Emily kept her thoughts to herself as the dinner finally came to an end, with many toasts to victory and promises of mutual support when the real work started. She groaned, inwardly, at the thought of attending dozens of command conferences, particularly ones where everyone knew what the outcome would be before they even began. She didn’t need to be there, but... it was political. Master Lucknow had been right. A great many nations - and magical families - had only involved themselves because of her.
“I’ll go find somewhere to sleep,” Cat said, when the discussions were finally over and they were heading outside. Night had fallen, leaving the camp illuminated by burning torches and glowing balls of magical light. The shadows seemed to move of their own accord. “I’m sure there’s somewhere for me.”
“There’s a barracks for newcomers over there,” Penny said. She’d followed them out of the tent. “You can sign in with the sergeant, then get a cot for the night.”
“Thank you.” Cat bowed. “And may I say it was a pleasure to meet you?”
Penny didn’t smile. “I can’t stop you,” she said. “But may I say the pleasure is all yours?”
Cat shrugged, tossed Emily a jaunty salute and strode off into the darkened camp. Emily watched him go, then looked south towards the invisible mountains. The sound of digging was quieter now, but still audible. She glanced at Penny, then set off to the tent. Penny fell into step beside her, curiously hesitant. Emily sighed. It had been a long day and she felt as though she’d been through an emotional whirlwind. She wanted to sleep, not to have a chat with someone who didn’t seem to like her. And yet... she kicked herself, mentally, for agreeing to share a tent. She could have kept Cat out if she’d wished without inviting Penny.
You weren’t scared of him trying to break in, her thoughts mocked. You were scared you’d invite him in.
She bit her lip as they reached the tent and pushed open the flap. It was dark, but uncomfortably warm inside. Emily cast a lightspell, then sat on the cot. Penny could bring another for herself, if she didn’t want to sleep on the floor. Technically, apprentices and trainees were supposed to do just that. Emily had done it herself, during the war... one of the wars. How many was she going to see?
Penny sat on the ground, her eyes hard. She looked... weaker somehow, now they were alone. Emily couldn’t help thinking of her as an ice princess, defrosting in warm air. She muttered a pair of cooling spells, wishing - not for the first time - that the spells endured for more than a few hours. They weren’t difficult, but they were power-intensive and had to be cancelled completely before they could be replaced. Thankfully, she wouldn’t be spending all of the coming week in the tent.
Emily felt her patience snap. “What do you want?”
If Penny was surprised by the rudeness, she didn’t show it. “Have we met?”
“What?” Emily was surprised. “I don’t think so.”
She studied Penny for a long moment. She did look like a young version of Lady Barb, right down to the blonde hair and a face that was more striking than lovely. Penny had character, if not beauty. But she was also a stranger. Emily couldn’t recall meeting her. It was possible they’d crossed paths before, she supposed, but it seemed unlikely. There were at least three years between them. Unless...
Emily frowned. Penny might have been an exchange student... perhaps. “You were at Whitehall? Or Mountaintop?”
“Laughter,” Penny said without a smile. “Have you ever visited?”
“No.” Emily was sure of that, if nothing else. “Why do you ask?”
“Are you sure?” Penny leaned forward, as if she were trying to be intimidating. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Emily felt a hot flash of irritation. She’d faced necromancers. Penny would be extremely capable - Lady Barb wouldn’t have taken her as a trainee if she hadn’t been up to the task - but Emily had faced worse. Penny might have been intimidating six years ago, before Shadye and Mother Holly and Randor and everyone else. “Why do you ask?”
Penny’s expression didn’t change. “Four years ago, we had an infiltrator,” she said. “The” - she swallowed a word - “the person made an utter fool of me. I liked her and... and she used me and she... I liked her. I thought...”
“And you thought it was me?” Emily shook her head. “Why?”
“You infiltrated Mountaintop,” Penny said. “Why couldn’t you sneak into Laught
er?”
“I was kidnapped and taken into Mountaintop,” Emily corrected. She’d let herself be kidnapped, true, but... it wasn’t as if she’d cracked the wards and sneaked into the school, somehow adding herself to the student body without anyone noticing. “And I’ve never been anywhere near Laughter.”
She felt a twinge of sympathy. “What happened?”
“I had a crush on her,” Penny said. She looked miserable, just for a second. “I thought she liked me too. And I... I made an utter fool of myself. I let her trick me, I let her use me, I let her... it cost me everything.”
“Not everything,” Emily said. She was torn between an urge to hug the girl and irritation she was being blamed for something she hadn’t done. “You’re still a powerful magician.”
“I was going to be Head Girl,” Penny said. “You know how it works? The Head Girl is elected at the end of her fourth year. She spends the fifth year learning the ropes from the old Head Girl, the one who was elected the year before. And then she serves for the sixth year... I lost it. I got demoted because of her, because I let her trick me...”
Emily’s eyes narrowed. “This was four years ago?”
“Yes,” Penny said. “And you’re sure it wasn’t you?”
“Yes!” Emily did the math. Four years... that would have been when she’d been at Mountaintop. Or around that time. If Penny had been in her fifth year, she’d be two or three years older than Emily... probably. It was hard to be sure. “I’m sure it wasn’t me.”
Penny didn’t look convinced. “Lady Barb said as much, but...”
“And you didn’t believe her?” Emily raised her eyebrows. “I’m sure she didn’t let that pass.”
“No.” Penny smiled, oddly. “But adults don’t know everything.”
“You’re an adult too, even by magical standards,” Emily pointed out. Everyone claimed magicians matured slower than mundanes, and they rarely came of age until they were in their twenties, but Penny was well on her way into adulthood. “And Lady Barb wouldn’t have taken you as a trainee if she hadn’t thought you were worth it.”
She frowned, thoughtfully. “What did your infiltrator want?”
“We don’t know!” Penny stood and started to pace. “She got into the school by pretending to be Nadine of Hightower - she replaced the stupid brat of a noblewoman, turning the silly brat into a fish and leaving her in a bowl - and... did nothing, beyond some nasty sabotage. A whole bunch of people got injured for nothing, as far as we can tell. It makes no sense.”
“No,” Emily agreed. “But that doesn’t mean there wasn’t a plan.”
She considered it. Alassa had said something about Nadine of Hightower once, although Emily couldn’t remember the details. It had been a snide remark about someone else, a milksop actually siring a bastard child... Emily made a mental note to write to Alassa and ask. Perhaps Nadine of Hightower had been the target. Getting kidnapped and replaced would be dreadfully embarrassing... but was she worth the effort? Or... what about Penny? Had she been the target? It was possible, but - if Emily was any judge - Penny was a commoner. Embarrassing her wouldn’t have been worth the effort either. Penny was right. It didn’t make any sense.
“Perhaps the plan went spectacularly wrong and the infiltrator had to run,” she said, finally. Nanette had run, when she’d been exposed. That would have been the year before Laughter had been infiltrated. And yet... Nanette had been badly hurt the following year, at Mountaintop. It seemed unlikely she could have recovered in time to go to Laughter. “Or...”
She shook her head. She was being paranoid. There was no reason to assume the two cases were linked. Magicians spied on each other all the time. Hell, the schools spied on each other all the time. Everyone was looking for an edge, for a chance to snatch a lead or embarrass their competitors or... or something. She supposed it wasn’t all bad. The constant threat of magical espionage kept magicians working feverishly to develop newer and better ways to counter their enemies. It did have its uses.
“It wasn’t me,” she said, firmly. “And I don’t know who it was.”
“I’m sorry.” Penny turned to face her. “I just thought...”
“It wasn’t me,” Emily repeated. “I hope we can work together.”
“For as long as we’re here,” Penny said. “Lady Barb wasn’t clear on how long we’d be staying.”
“I’m sure you’ll learn something,” Emily said. “And” - a thought struck her - “what did the staff say, when you told them?”
“They said I’d compromised myself.” Penny’s voice darkened. “I wouldn’t have been so... influenced, so easily manipulated, if I hadn’t wanted to be. If I hadn’t felt something for her... perhaps it wasn’t my fault, but I was still compromised. My position had become untenable and... they told me I could resign from my post or be fired.”
“Out a cannon, into a volcano,” Emily commented.
Penny blinked. “What?”
“Never mind.” Emily held out a hand. “I’m sorry about Cat. Feel free to ignore him. Or hex him.”
“I play for the other team,” Penny said. “He’s going to be very disappointed.”
“How... terrible,” Emily said, her face deadpan. They shared a giggle. “Are the stories about Laughter true?”
Penny’s smile grew wider. It transformed her face. “The stories are all true, apart from the lies,” she said, with another giggle. “No, there’s not much truth to them. Most of the girls had... affairs... with boys from the town. A couple got in trouble for trying to sneak their boyfriends into the school. A few of the boys tried to sneak in themselves... that’s something of a rite of passage in the town. See how close you can get before the big bad witches turn you into a frog. Or something...”
She shook her head. “It’s just a school, like the others,” she said. “Except...”
Her voice trailed off. “Except we learn to fly,” she said, quietly. “And that’s what cost me everything.”
“You’re not the first person to be fooled,” Emily said. She promised herself they’d discuss it later, when they had time. She knew how to levitate, but she’d never actually tried to fly. “And you won’t be the last.”
“No,” Penny said. “Lady Barb said that too.”
“She would.” Emily glanced at her watch. She felt surprisingly tired, even though her body insisted it should be early afternoon. “Shall we get some sleep? It’ll be morning before we know it.”
“Yeah.” Penny turned to the flap. “I’ll be glad of a nap. And I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Emily said. “I’ve been fooled too.”
Chapter Thirteen
EMILY HAD BEEN TOLD THAT WAR was ninety percent boredom and ten percent screaming terror, but she’d never really understood it before. There’d always been something to do during the last two wars, from practicing her magic to working out with her fellow apprentices and sorcerers. Now... she found herself serving as a figurehead, an ambassador and a mediator, all wrapped up into one. The days blurred into an endless series of diplomatic meetings, planning sessions and arguments that went 'round and 'round without anything being decided. It was hard to believe, sometimes, that the Allied Lands were allied in any real sense of the word. Too many of their representatives acted like spoilt children being asked to share their toys.
And Master Lucknow has it worse, she told herself, after yet another meeting that went precisely nowhere. He’s the one putting out fires and calming tempers after each and every shouting match.
She thought she understood, now, why Void was so contemptuous of the White Council. It wasn’t so much a council as a debating club, with representatives arguing for the monarchs, city-states and magical communities. If there wasn’t a clear and present danger - and the necromancers were still on the far side of the mountains - nothing got done without each and every power bloc having its say. There was no authority that could get them all moving in the same direction, no united government that could coordinate a war. And t
hey would never change. They made noises about rebuilding the once-great empire, but there was no way they’d agree on who would rule. To them, the idea of democracy was laughable.
That will change, she thought. But the American and French Revolutionaries didn’t actually transcend their national interests, did they?
It was almost a relief, five days after her arrival, when Lady Barb invited her and Cat into her tent. The exterior was heavily warded, so secure that Emily couldn’t believe any prying eyes could peer inside without being detected; the interior looked like a cross between a bedroom and an office. A single large cot - she suspected Lady Barb and Sergeant Miles were sharing, although she wasn’t fool enough to say that out loud - sat to one side, while a large table and a collection of wooden folding chairs sat in the middle. Penny stood by the head of the table, looking calm and composed. Emily winked at her. She’d shot down each and every one of Cat’s advances with a composure Emily had admired.
“Take a seat,” Lady Barb said. “Water? Anyone?”
“Please,” Emily said. “Cat?”
Sergeant Miles stepped into the tent, carrying a large parchment scroll. Lady Barb took it from him and put it on the table. Emily watched, noting how vague the lines were as Lady Barb unfolded the chart and placed rocks on the corners to hold it in place. The map represented what little they knew about the Blighted Lands, but the information might already be out of date. Things changed so quickly... she shook her head. Master Lucknow had explained the danger. She’d just have to make sure she took everything with a pinch of salt. Lady Barb wouldn’t deliberately mislead her, but...
“The Blighted Lands,” Lady Barb said. Her finger traced a line on the chart. “The region directly southwards of here is largely empty - or it was, until the necromancers moved their armies into the region and started digging. Our scouts and seers haven’t been able to spot any purebred humans, apart from the necromancers themselves. I think you two will stand out like a sore thumb if you try to get over the mountains by stealth.”
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