Jasmine and Tiega exchanged glances. “We were ... ah ... we were wondering if you were going to become Head Girl again,” Tiega said, finally. She jutted her chin at Emily, silently daring her to object to the question. “It’s been two weeks.”
Emily frowned, unsure what to say. “That’s not going to happen,” she said. Gordian wasn’t likely to reappoint her, even if Jacqui fell flat on her face. There were plenty of other candidates if he wanted to play musical chairs with the post. “Why do you ask?”
The two girls looked at each other again. “She’s impossible,” Jasmine said, finally. She looked around the room, unwilling to meet Emily’s eyes. “We can’t stand her.”
“Who’s impossible?” Emily was fairly certain she knew who they were talking about, but she had to be sure. “Who can’t you stand?”
“The Head Girl,” Tiega said, impatiently. “She’s a tyrant!”
Emily groaned, inwardly. There was no way that Jacqui would listen to reasoned criticism, not from her. But who else was there for Jasmine and Tiega? Emily was their former mentor ... the only real alternative was going to their Year Head, who would almost certainly back up the Head Girl. It was unlikely anyone else would care to intervene, if they could. She didn’t know if Tiega had any relatives in the upper years, but Jasmine certainly didn’t. She was the first of her line to attend Whitehall.
Listen, she told herself, firmly. Jacqui might have exceeded her authority.
“I need details,” she said. “What - exactly - did she do?”
Jasmine and Tiega exchanged glances, again. Emily swallowed her annoyance with an effort, reminding herself - firmly - that they were Second Years. And yet ... they should have thought about what they were going to say before they confronted her. Emily simply didn’t have time to waste.
“I was singing in the corridor,” Jasmine said, reluctantly. “And she caught me and ...”
“She gave Jasmine a beating,” Tiega snapped, impatiently. “And she gave me a beating too for playing games in the corridor. And then she gave us both detention for answering back.”
Emily sighed. “What did you say to her?”
“I told her that no one had told us we couldn’t play games in the corridor,” Tiega said, flatly. “We were playing games in the corridor last year!”
“I tried to tell her that,” Jasmine said. “But she didn’t listen!”
“I imagine she didn’t,” Emily said. Playing games in the corridor wasn’t forbidden, although she knew that a number of tutors grumbled about it during the week. And yet ... Jacqui might just have heard the grumbling and decided to do something about it. “Talking back to her wasn’t a good idea, really.”
“She gave Arnold a week of detention when she caught him outside the dorms after dark,” Tiega continued. “And she insisted on inspecting our rooms - she actually told us she was going to check our rooms to make sure they were tidy.”
Emily frowned. “Has she done it?”
“Not yet,” Tiega said. “But ... will she do it?”
“I don’t know,” Emily said. She hadn’t made a habit of inspecting rooms. She’d always believed that younger students deserved some privacy. Besides, they were the only ones who would suffer if the rooms were messed up. “I’m not sure if she has the authority to search your rooms.”
She forced herself to remember the rules. Technically, rooms could be inspected - but by the housemothers and fathers, not by the Head Girl. But the rules themselves were a little vague, written to allow the Head Pupil as much freedom as possible. Jacqui might be within her rights to search the rooms for contraband, as long as she didn’t probe into their trunks. Doing that would probably cause a riot.
Or at least angry letters home from the students, Emily thought. Jacqui would be in trouble if Gordian received a number of letters from outraged parents. Searching a student’s trunk was only permissible if there was solid evidence of wrongdoing. It might be the quickest way to get her out of the post.
She shook her head, dismissing the thought. “What else has she done?”
“She’s watching us when we do our homework,” Tiega said. “And not just us, either.”
The older students too, Emily thought. There was something to be said for keeping an eye on the younger students, particularly the ones who had never set foot in a magical environment before, but the older students would rapidly come to resent constant monitoring. And Jacqui would drive herself insane if she tried to monitor every single student. This is not going to end well.
“We don’t know what to do,” Jasmine said. She looked at Emily through almond eyes. “Can you help?”
“I don’t know,” Emily said. What could she do? Try to talk to Jacqui? Or Gordian? Or even Master Tor? She didn’t think any of them would listen to her. “For the moment—” she took a breath” —just try not to agitate her.”
“I’d have to stop breathing to do that,” Tiega muttered. “She doesn’t seem to need an excuse to punish us.”
“Try not to give her one anyway,” Emily said. “Please.”
“People are angry,” Tiega said. She squinted at Emily. “Something is going to happen.”
“Like what?” Emily sighed, again. “You’re Second Year students. If you shoot hexes at her back, she’ll deflect them without looking ‘round. And then she’ll have all the excuse she could possibly need to give you the thrashing of your life.”
Tiega met her eyes. “You know that won’t matter,” she said. “People are angry.”
Emily had a sudden vision of the lower years rising up against Jacqui. Hundreds of students, all hexing her into next week ... she shook her head, tiredly. The wards would stop a mass uprising, she thought. And even if they didn’t, Gordian could hardly allow such a challenge to his authority. He wouldn’t dismiss Jacqui from her post just because a bunch of younger students demanded it.
And what will happen, Emily asked herself, if the entire student body is part of the mutiny?
But it didn’t have to go that far, she knew. Jacqui wouldn’t ask for help from the tutors unless she wanted to be fired. She was Head Girl and Year Head ... she couldn’t go running for help when she ran into trouble. It would be easy for the lower years to drive her mad, just by creatively interpreting her orders or simply ignoring them when her back was turned. And if Jacqui was having problems with the older students too, which she was, she would find it hard to convince anyone to help her.
“You really shouldn’t try to confront her,” she said, without enthusiasm. It would do Jacqui good if she had to struggle to overcome passive resistance, rather than open hexes. “And if you do, be careful.”
“We will.” Jasmine smiled. “I’ll be singing in the common room tonight, after the game. Will you come?”
“I’ll see,” Emily said. She would have liked to hear Jasmine sing again. But she didn’t know if she had time. “I’ll see you both later.”
Tiega dropped a curtsey and hurried out of the room, Jasmine following a moment later, closing the door behind her. Emily shook her head slowly, suddenly feeling very tired. Her body was aching after being seated for so long. And yet ... she wondered, grimly, just what was going to happen. Frieda’s revolt against Mountaintop’s status quo had ended badly.
And she would have died, if I hadn’t been there, Emily thought. A few seconds later and she probably would have died.
She picked up the essays, checked to make sure no one had left anything behind, then opened the door and walked out, leaving the door slightly ajar. There was no need to lock it when older students - or some of the visitors - might want to use the room for private studies. Fulvia might want to use it. Emily contemplated, just for a moment, what it would be like if she locked Fulvia in the room, then dismissed the thought. She would be very surprised if Fulvia couldn’t escape, simply by blasting down the door.
The corridors seemed quieter as she made her way up the stairs and along the corridor to Jacqui’s office. There were no students in sight, sav
e for a couple of older students who were examining the portraits and making notes in their jotters. She reached the office and tapped on the door, then waited. The wards insisted Jacqui was inside, but she was taking her time to answer. No doubt she was trying to play power games. Again.
Emily rolled her eyes, then leaned against the wall and examined the notice board. The list of older students on night patrol had been extensively modified as students protested their shifts and demanded changes. A couple of names even had red lines drawn through them, signifying that they couldn’t do the job. Below, the list of dueling club members seemed to have grown longer. The difference between the two lists was staggering.
Because students want to duel, she reflected. And they don’t want to waste time patrolling when they could be studying or sleeping.
The door crashed open. Cirroc stormed out. “And I wouldn’t trust you to handle anything,” he snapped. “And that’s the last of it!”
He marched off down the corridor without looking at Emily. Emily stared after him, torn between disbelief and the urge to start laughing. She’d never seen Cirroc lose his temper, certainly not so spectacularly. What had Jacqui said to him?
She stepped up to the door and peered inside. Jacqui was standing behind her desk, red spots clearly visible on her cheeks. She held a piece of crumpled paper in her hand. Her eyes flashed murder when she saw Emily.
Emily knew she shouldn’t smile, but she did it anyway. “Is this a bad time?”
Jacqui glared at her. “Detention,” she snapped. “For cheek.”
Emily allowed her smile to widen. “You are aware that I just had detention? I could make a case that I was retroactively punished, if I tried ...”
She doubted Gordian would buy the argument, if she tried to offer it to him, but ... Jacqui didn’t seem sure of the outcome either. “Forget it,” she snarled. “What do you want?”
“I brought you the essays,” Emily said, as she walked into the room. “You have to mark them and give them back ...”
“You can mark them,” Jacqui said. “I don’t have time. He” - Emily assumed she meant Cirroc - “just told me he couldn’t do his duties!”
“He doesn’t have much free time,” Emily pointed out. She dropped the detention essays on the desk. “I don’t have much free time either.”
“And nor do I,” Jacqui snapped. “You really let things get out of hand.”
Emily considered a number of answers, none of which were helpful. Telling Jacqui about Jasmine and Tiega would just get the two younger girls in trouble, while refusing to name names would only make matters worse. Jacqui should be smart enough to understand the dangers of what she was doing. And if she wasn’t ...
“I want you to supervise detention all next week,” Jacqui said, instead. “And someone has to take over Cirroc’s nightly patrol ...”
“I don’t have time,” Emily said. “I need to concentrate on too many things at once.”
“Someone has to do it,” Jacqui said. “And everyone is coming up with excuses.”
“I’m sure they are,” Emily said. “If patrolling the school after Lights Out is so important to you, why don’t you do it yourself?”
“I’m one person,” Jacqui protested. “Why can’t they just behave?”
“I seem to recall you sneaking to the kitchens in Third Year and stealing enough food for the entire dorm to have a midnight feast,” Emily reminded her. “Are you saying that was wrong?”
Jacqui slammed her hands against the desk. “And if I had been caught,” she asked, “what would have happened then?”
Emily smirked. “And yet you’re blaming the younger students for following in your footsteps?”
“Get out,” Jacqui ordered.
“As you wish,” Emily said. She headed for the door, pausing long enough to throw back a sharp remark before she made her escape. “And I really don’t have time to take on more supervising duties.”
Chapter Seventeen
“SO YOU GOT ALL THREE OF your jurors,” Sienna said. She took the letters Emily offered her and skimmed them, quickly. “Tell me about your picks. And assume I don’t know anything about them.”
Emily blinked, then forced herself to focus. “Jade is Crown Princess Alassa’s consort - his formal title is Prince Consort. I met him when I was a firstie and he was in Sixth Year and became friends, of a sort. We were pushed together in Martial Magic, you see. After he graduated, he studied under Master Grey and qualified as a combat sorcerer in just under a year. He married Alassa a year and a half ago, whereupon he was also appointed Baron of Swanhaven. That was something of a poisoned chalice.”
“I can imagine.” Sienna’s lips quirked. “I live near Swanhaven.”
She cleared her throat. “Did you and Jade have any kind of relationship?”
Emily felt her cheeks heat. She didn’t want to discuss it with anyone, least of all Caleb’s mother. But she had no choice.
“He asked me to marry him, just after he graduated,” she said, flatly. “But it went nowhere.”
Sienna nodded, slowly. “You may find him challenged on those grounds,” she warned. “Fulvia does not have the power to prevent Jade from sitting on the jury, but she does have the ability to make the others doubt his judgement.”
Emily snorted. “I thought she’d be picking people likely to support her too. She’s not going to pick Frieda’s best friend for the jury, is she?”
“You’ll have a chance to challenge too,” Sienna said. “Next?”
“Markus is one of the most important bankers in Beneficence, as well as a skilled sorcerer in his own right,” Emily said. “He was Head Boy at Mountaintop, where I met him; he married Melissa, Fulvia’s great-granddaughter, three years ago. The marriage” - Melissa’s memories surfaced, just for a second - “appears to be going well. I gave him the seed funds he used to found the bank.”
“For better or worse,” Sienna said.
“His bank didn’t crash,” Emily said, stiffly. “And he has been very involved in preventing a second crash.”
“Indeed.” Sienna cocked her head. “You do realize that Fulvia will do everything in her power to discredit him?”
“I know,” Emily said. “And I’m sure he knows it too.”
“I would prefer a different choice,” Sienna said. “But there aren’t that many options, are there?”
Emily shook her head. Most of the senior magicians she knew were tutors at Whitehall, which disqualified them. Void hadn’t answered her letters - and besides, it would make her look weak if she went running to her presumed daddy every time she got herself in trouble. There weren’t many others who were both able and willing to serve. In hindsight, she suspected she should have spent more time in the White City. But she was still very young compared to the senior magicians. Even Sienna and Lady Barb were in their early forties.
“Finally, we have Zed, MageMaster of Mountaintop,” she concluded. “He was King Randor’s Court Magician for fifteen years, before he left the castle and found a place at Mountaintop. I was ... he taught Frieda and I alchemy there. When the previous MageMaster died, Zed became MageMaster in his place.”
Sienna smiled. “Why do I think there’s a long story there?”
“There is,” Emily said.
“You haven’t chosen badly,” Sienna said, with a look that suggested she’d be asking more questions later. “Zed is probably the one most vulnerable to political pressure, but he has every interest in making sure he isn’t seen as a pushover. That said, he also has a strong interest in being seen as a fair and impartial judge. Expect him to require more convincing than the other two.”
Emily nodded, slowly. “He does owe me a favor ...”
“He’ll still want to avoid the appearance of paying back a favor,” Sienna said, curtly. “No one would blame him for it, of course, but it would still call the final judgement into question.”
“She must look innocent as well as be innocent,” Emily muttered.
“
Correct,” Sienna agreed. “And as her memories are a jumble, and she is in no state to drink truth potion or swear formal oaths, it is vitally important that she looks innocent. Rest assured, your enemies will not hesitate to mutilate the truth to uphold their narrative.”
She cleared her throat as she put the letters down, then reached for a scroll. “Fulvia has also submitted her list of picked jurors. First up, we have Andor of House Arlene.”
Emily swore. “Gaius’s grandfather?”
“Father,” Sienna corrected. “Andor’s father died shortly after Andor graduated from Mountaintop, thirty years ago. There was no suspicion of foul play, if I recall correctly. I’ll do what I can to look up the details, but if there was anything odd about the death it never became a major issue. The Ashworths and the Ashfalls were feuding - they still are, I suppose - and it’s possible Andor’s father was assassinated.”
She shrugged. “In any case, Andor is unlikely to side with you. His son was branded a traitor after you killed him. Technically, Gaius was disowned, but that probably won’t matter. Merely losing out on the chance to marry Gaius to Melissa cost Andor quite badly, Emily. And his family lost some of their influence during Fulvia’s fall from grace. He’ll vote to condemn without hearing the evidence.”
Emily gritted her teeth. “Can we not use that against him? Call his judgement into question?”
“We can and we will,” Sienna assured her. “But it is a tactic that is of strictly limited value.”
She rustled her papers, meaningfully. “Magister Snider is an odd choice, on the face of it. He used to be a city councillor, then a magistrate, in the White City. Fulvia was probably one of the people who signed off on his appointment, but beyond that ... I don’t see any tie between them.”
“One must be there,” Emily said.
“Perhaps,” Sienna said. “That said, Magister Snider does have a strong reputation for cracking down on underage magic. He was at least partly responsible for imposing new laws covering emerging magicians in the White City. There was quite some debate over it at the time, which is why he lost his post a dozen years ago. I don’t think there was any suggestion of corruption or nepotism, merely a belief that he went a little too far. Parents didn’t like him trying to impose rules on their children.”
Graduation Day (Schooled in Magic Book 14) Page 16