Oathkeeper (Schooled in Magic Book 20)

by Christopher Nuttall

  She paused, feeling her heart start to race. “But what if the magic has nowhere to go?

  “I figured out that one could use a pocket dimension to store magic,” she said. “The magic remains in the dimension because it literally has nowhere to go, as long as the dimension remains intact. Linked to a valve, which can be something as simple as a wand or a staff, the magic can be channeled out of the pocket dimension and used, in passing, to power an emplaced spell. These devices - I call them batteries - allow us to create vastly more powerful spells.”

  Someone muttered an oath. Emily had to smile. They weren’t stupid. No one reached the heights of their profession without being very intelligent indeed. They might not have had the background to realize the possibility, but now she’d pointed it out to them... she felt a flicker of pride. Everything else, she’d copied from half-remembered lessons and history books. She hadn’t devised the letters and numbers she’d introduced; she hadn’t invented steam engines and gunpowder out of whole cloth. They might credit her as a genius, but she knew better. This, however, was something she’d invented. On her own. She couldn’t help being proud of her work.

  “Given time, we can use the batteries to defend the fortress,” she said. “And find other ways to take the war to the enemy.”

  She leaned back and watched as the sorcerers started chatting, sharing ideas and brainstorming in a way they would normally have found unthinkable. Sorcerers rarely collaborated, certainly not in large groups. Trying to get them moving in the same direction was like herding cats, only worse. But she’d somehow managed to get an entire group working together, devising new ways to use what she’d shown them. She wondered if she’d be rewarded or punished, when the truth came out. She’d taken one hell of a risk. The batteries would change the world.

  Her eyes wandered over the contract. It should bind them - she’d made sure they’d all signed - but what if she’d left a loophole? What if... there were ways to twist her words, for a sorcerer to convince himself he wasn’t actually breaking the contract? What if... she swallowed hard, feeling suddenly fearful. What if she’d just made the problems facing the Allied Lands immeasurably worse?

  Master Lucknow moved over to join her. “I can see why Jan likes you.”

  Emily blushed. “Thanks.”

  “It’s a compliment,” Master Lucknow said. “And, after your apprenticeship is finished, I think you’d be more than welcome to join us as an equal.”

  “That might be nice,” Emily said. She looked away, feeling uneasily torn between apprenticeship and mastery. Two enchanters were arguing about how best to use the batteries to power a firestorm ritual. It reminded her of her attempts to create a laser spell. A heat ray, of sorts. “But I don’t know what I’ll be doing after my apprenticeship...”

  She shook her head. She really didn’t know. It had been a year, but Void hadn’t said anything about her graduating. He was supposed to make sure she wasn’t tested until she was ready... she sighed. She had no idea when she’d be ready. Or what she’d have to do to prove herself. After everything she’d already done...

  There was a loud banging at the door. “Penny’s here,” Lady Barb said, although there was no visible sign. “Excuse me.”

  She opened the door. Penny practically fell into the room. “His Highness just returned,” she said, between gasps. Outside, the trumpets were already blaring the alert. “They’re coming!”

  Chapter Nineteen (Emily1)

  EMILY WOKE UP, SUDDENLY.

  She lay on the hard ground, the blanket providing almost no comfort, wrapped in darkness that seemed a living thing. Cat was snoring - he’d placed his dagger between them, to her private relief - but something was wrong. The air felt hot and heavy, as if it were more and more oppressive with every passing second. It pressed down on her mind, twisting her thoughts... a flash of alarm washed through her, banishing the cobwebs, as she realized they were in the center of a nexus of subtle magic. The rune she’d carved between her breasts was long gone, for better or worse, but Void had drilled her extensively. She knew how to resist...

  ... And someone had entered the room.

  Emily tensed. She’d spent six years in a school where sneaking into someone’s room and transfiguring them in the middle of the night was considered the height of humor, where sneaking into a tutor’s office or stealing food from the kitchens for a midnight feast was a rite of passage. She never slept deeply, even when she was sleeping in her own home, surrounded by powerful wards. And here... she listened carefully, hearing the soft footfalls as they approached her. Cat was still snoring. Was the magic keeping him asleep? Or was he just pretending?

  She shivered as she heard breathing, faint but very real. The intruder was far too close now... she braced herself, then screwed her eyes closed and cast a light spell. Someone stumbled back, tripping over their feet and landing on their backside. Emily opened her eyes, blinking as she saw the headman staring at her with maddened eyes. Beyond him, his wife stood at the door, staring in horror. Emily froze them both with a spell, trying not to recoil. They hadn’t known what they were facing.

  I thought they wanted to trade, she thought, as she stumbled to her feet. Her head was clearing rapidly, but her body ached with pain. Attacking their guests in the middle of the night...

  Her eyes narrowed. Cat still hadn’t woken. Emily picked up his dagger, put it carefully out of reach and tapped him, gently. It was never safe to frighten an armed man - she’d learnt that back in class - but there was no way to deprive him of his magic. Cat jerked awake, staring at her with wild eyes. Emily guessed the subtle magic must have pushed him to sleep, keeping him under until it was too late. She silently thanked Void for his lessons as Cat glanced at the two intruders, then back at her. His eyes were hardening rapidly.

  “You think they were coming for you?”

  Emily shrugged. She didn’t know. It was quite possible the villagers hadn’t realized she was female. They hadn’t raised a fuss about her eating with the men. And she looked very different from the village women... she shook her head. It was rather more likely the villagers had intended to rob and kill the unwary traders. And then probably eat them. Her stomach churned at the thought. They’d been through too much in the last two days...

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “You cast a truth spell. I’ll search the rest of the hut.”

  She walked past the frozen couple and peered around the darkened hut. It was surprisingly bare, although - if she was any judge - it was probably more luxurious than the rest of the village. The headman and his wife didn’t look to have been sleeping in the main room... she peered through the curtain into the rear quarters, frowning as she spotted the four children sleeping in a mass of blankets. They looked warped and twisted already. A small boy - he looked to be around seven - had lost his nose. The girl beside him had a swollen eye. Emily wanted to go back to the headman and hurt him, but... she cursed under her breath as she studied the swelling. It wasn’t a black eye. She hadn’t been hit. It looked to be an infection caused by the tainted magic.

  Her heart twisted. Poor little kids...

  She cast a spell to make sure they’d stay asleep, then searched the rest of the hut. There was a piece of parchment lying on a table, charmed... her heart almost stopped as she realized it was a chat parchment. She knew that secret had leaked out long ago, but she’d never thought it might have spread into the Blighted Lands. The parchment felt icky in her hands, as if it had been touched by dark magic. There was no visible writing, but she knew that was meaningless. The parchment was probably charmed to ensure only one person could so much as see the writing.

  Damn it, she thought. There was no one else in the hut. Outside, the village was as silent as the grave. They knew we were coming.

  She walked back to the bedroom. Cat was interrogating the headman, using a combination of truth and compulsion spells to force him to answer. Emily listened, feeling sick as the man admitted he had orders to arrest travelers and trans
port them south to the distant fortress. She knew the headman probably hadn’t had a choice - his master was perfectly capable of vaporizing the entire village on a whim - but still... she shook her head. The mission could not be allowed to fail.

  “Cat,” she said. “Ask him what he told his master?”

  Cat looked surprised, but did as she asked. “I told him you were traders,” the headman said, his accent stronger than ever. “And he ordered you brought to him.”

  Emily considered, briefly, allowing the villagers to take them prisoner. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d allowed someone to think she was bound and helpless, as if she could be deprived of her mind and magic so easily. But the risk was too great. The villagers were too uncontrollable. They might not want to risk admitting they’d had any contact with traders, with people from the other side of the mountains. The headman might have his orders, but the rest of his people might disagree. Better to kill the intruders than risk admitting they’d had contact with outsiders.

  “Poor bastards,” she muttered.

  Cat looked at her. “What do we do?”

  Emily checked her watch. “It’s nearly morning,” she said, although she wasn’t sure what that meant in the Blighted Lands. She hadn’t seen any stars when she looked outside. “I think we should wipe their memories and go.”

  “Or convince them they sent us on,” Cat suggested. “Let them tell their master we died somewhere along the way.”

  “Good idea,” Emily agreed. She was surprised the headman and his wife had violated guest-right, the unspoken rule that guests were not to be harmed, but... they’d had no choice. How could they stand against a necromancer? And their children... it crossed her mind, just for a moment, that killing them might be merciful. They wouldn’t linger in living death until they finally died or were drained of life and thrown into the orcish maw. “Do it. I’ll meet you outside.”

  She picked up the knapsacks and walked out of the room. She’d never liked meddling with minds, even when there was no choice. Void had made her practice and she’d felt dirty for days afterwards. Cat joined her a moment later, his expression grim. Emily didn’t need to ask to understand what he was feeling. Manipulating someone - controlling someone - was a step towards the dark arts, even if it was done with the best of intentions. The sorcerers who grew to like it had jumped off the slippery slope a long time ago.

  “When they wake, they’ll believe they sent us on under cover of darkness,” Cat said, quietly. “The more their fellow villagers insist otherwise, the more they’ll believe that’s what they did.”

  “If they think to question it at all,” Emily said, casting a night vision spell. “They might not care.”

  “No,” Cat agreed. “They might not.”

  Emily frowned as they stepped into the darkness. The skies weren’t quite as black as she’d thought, but... faint hints of illumination darted through the darkness, as if the sunlight were eclipsed by an entire fleet of moons. She looked towards the horizon, where the sun should be, and shivered. Was there a hint of light in the distance, a flicker of warmth? Or was she just imagining it? She couldn’t tell.

  The village looked even creepier in the darkness, despite the spell. Emily moved as quietly as she could, using glamor’s to hide, but they didn’t seem to be necessary. There were no lights in the windows, no hint that anyone was watching as they passed a row of huts and larger buildings that looked like barns rather than barracks. She glanced inside and saw the slaves sleeping in their own filth. The stench struck her a second later, so vile she had to cover her mouth to keep from gagging as she stumbled away. Cat caught her arm and held her up as they slipped into the fields and made their escape. She honestly couldn’t understand how anyone could live in such a state. But they didn’t even have the context to realize something was wrong.

  She swallowed, hard, as they passed the rows of creepy plants. They were rustling silently, moving despite the still air. Emily spotted one of them dropping a seedpod on the ground, rattling slightly as it waited to be picked up and taken elsewhere. She hadn’t seen anything like it. She wondered, idly, if the plants had magical uses or if they were the only things that’d grow in the Blighted Lands. It struck her as odd that the plantation existed at all. The people she’d met didn’t seem the type to maintain anything.

  It’s astonishing what someone will do if you hold a sword to their throat, Sergeant Harkin had said, years ago. Or how much work you can get out of someone if you threaten punishment and then make it clear you’re willing to carry out your threats.

  Emily shuddered. It was impossible to force someone to use their minds for you. A slave wouldn’t be fool enough to invent a way to make slavery more efficient, if it meant making things worse for them. Even more advanced societies had problems when they failed to reward the innovators, the ones who thought of new ways to do things. She’d done her level best to ensure the innovators in Cockatrice were rewarded, but was it enough? She suspected she’d never know.

  And if you just want to keep things static, she mused, a slave society might just work.

  The sun started to glimmer in the distance as they walked further south, following a dusty road that had seen better days. The sunlight was still red, still old, but the temperature continued to rise. Emily glanced behind her, half-convinced she’d see a horde of villagers baying for her blood. But there was nothing, not even a hint of movement. The spells had worked. Maybe the villagers hadn’t cared enough to question their headman and his wife.

  Cat grinned at her. “We learnt something useful, didn’t we?”

  “Yeah,” Emily said. “These people need help.”

  She tried to tell herself not to dwell on what they’d seen, but it was futile. Lady Barb’s words hadn't come remotely close to the reality. And there was nothing she could do to help. What would happen, she asked herself, when - if - the necromancers were defeated? Would the locals be helped? Could she organize help? Or... or what? They might start walking north, but to what? The Craggy Mountains would block their path into the Allied Lands. They’d have real problems getting as far as Syaitan, let alone any further. The landscape was practically impassable without careful preparation. And even if they reached the Allied Lands, who’d want to take them in?

  I’ll do what I can, she promised herself. But we might not even be able to feed them.

  The wind picked up suddenly, throwing the stench of tainted magic into her face. She closed her eyes, her skin itching as fragments of magic crawled down her shirt. She gritted her teeth as the wind grew even stronger, opening her eyes to see a glowing storm coming towards them. Just looking at it made her magic hurt, yet she couldn’t look away. She thought she saw things within the light, things calling to her. A low, roaring sound echoed over the hellscrape. Her legs buckled, nearly sending her to the ground. Cat was saying something, but she couldn’t hear him.

  He pinched her, hard. “Emily!”

  Emily pulled her head away. The storm - the magical, tainted - was coming towards them. She could feel it... she dug into her knapsack, removing the protective cloak as Cat hurried towards a crater by the side of the road. Emily followed him, forcing herself to run as sparks of lightning darted though the air. Anyone who got caught in a magical storm was at severe risk of death - or worse. She jumped into the crater and pushed the cloak into place, turning it into a makeshift tent. There was barely enough room for both of them. They couldn’t sit without touching. The roaring outside grew louder and louder. Cat shifted slightly, pinning the cloak in place. If they lost it, they were dead.

  “Fuck,” Cat said, numbly. His hand was twitching, as if he’d had an electric shock. “We might be here a while.”

  “Yeah.” Emily swallowed hard, trying not to show her fear. She could feel the magic outside, pressing against her mind. She’d been near nexus points, but this was different. There wasn’t even a hint of control in a storm, a sense that someone - somehow - had tamed the fury. There was just wave after wave of wild ma
gic cascading over the land. “What did they do here?”

  “To the Blighted Lands?” Cat shook his head. “No one really knows.”

  Emily suspected she didn’t want to know. “What... what do we do now?”

  “We wait,” Cat said. She was mildly surprised he hadn’t made an obscene suggestion. “How are you handing your apprenticeship?”

  “It’s... interesting,” Emily said. “Challenging and remarkable and...”

  The ground heaved beneath them. She sat back against the cloak, pinning it down with her weight. Cat looked grim, his eyes fixed on a spot just past her. Emily followed his gaze and saw white sparks, so bright it hurt to look at them, dancing under the cloak. She pushed it down, hard. The sparks vanished, but their legacy remained. She blinked, hard. Her body - composed partly of magic - was reacting to their presence. She wondered, suddenly, what was happening to her other self.

  She met his eyes. “How long did it take you to complete your apprenticeship?”

  “Just over three years,” Cat said. “I went back and forth a lot before finally settling on my role. And then the war came along and... well, delayed everything.”

  “Yeah.” Emily frowned. “I don’t think Void was too happy when I left.”

  “Then he would have forbidden you to go,” Cat pointed out. “I’ve never met a master who let their apprentice dictate to them. Even the ones who were... pushed... into accepting a spoilt brat like Melissa weren’t that accommodating.”

  “Melissa got better,” Emily reminded him. “And... I think he understood I was needed.”

  And that I’d sworn an oath I couldn’t break, she added, silently. He might have been less accommodating if I hadn’t given my word.