Graduation Day (Schooled in Magic Book 14)

by Christopher Nuttall

  Emily leaned forward. “Who told you that you were about to die?”

  Madame Kyla shot her a sharp look. “Emily ...”

  “Jacqui,” Frieda said. She convulsed, coughing loudly. Drool dribbled down her cheek, splashing on the blanket. “She told me that I was going to die ...”

  “Emily, get out,” Madame Kyla said, sharply. She started muttering the charms to put Frieda back in the healing trance. “Now.”

  Emily clenched her fists, feeling a hot wave of pure anger burning through her. Jacqui had told Frieda she was going to die? No wonder Frieda had tried to kill herself! Whatever she did would almost certainly be less painful than whatever Fulvia had in mind. Emily turned and strode out of the room, feeling her magic flaring to life. She was going to kill Jacqui.

  Melissa sat outside, looking pale. “Emily? Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to find Jacqui,” Emily said. She reached out to touch the wards. Jacqui was in her office, it seemed. “And I’m going to fucking kill her.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  THERE WAS A LINE OF STUDENTS waiting outside Jacqui’s office, their hands resting on their heads as they awaited judgement. Emily glared at them as she marched past, wondering if Jacqui had moved on to beating students herself. It was technically within her authority, but it set a dangerous precedent. And most Head Pupils preferred to leave it to the Warden anyway ...

  She reached the door and glared at it, then turned to the students. “Go away,” she ordered, sharply. “Now.”

  The students didn’t hesitate. They turned and hurried down the corridor, thankful for an excuse to go. No one would blame them for following Emily’s orders, even if she was outranked by the Head Girl. She looked back at the door, then pressed her hand against the wood, testing the wards. They were strong, but not active. Jacqui wouldn’t want to lock herself in her own room, not when she might have to leave in a hurry. Emily braced herself and pushed, hard. The wards shattered. The door slammed open with terrifying force.

  She marched into the room. Jacqui sat behind her desk, looking up in shock. A young girl was positioned to the side of the desk, bent over so far that Emily could see her head through her legs. Her arms were wrapped around her legs, holding herself firmly in place. A memory - not hers - rose up inside Emily’s mind. Fulvia had punished a younger Melissa by forcing her to assume such a position and hold it for hours. By the time she’d been released, Melissa had been stiff and sore for days.

  Jacqui rose. “Emily? What are you ...?”

  Emily snapped a stinging hex at the student. She jerked and fell to the floor, then rolled over and stood. A Fourth Year, Emily thought. She vaguely recognized the girl as one of Frieda’s former friends, someone who’d been as mischievous as Frieda herself. No doubt she’d done something to annoy Jacqui, although that wasn’t difficult.

  “Get out,” Emily ordered the girl. “Go!”

  “Emily,” Jacqui said. “I have authority ...”

  Emily allowed her magic to blaze. “Go.”

  The girl took one look, then turned and fled. Emily slammed the door closed behind her, slipping a locking charm into place. It wouldn’t hold for long, if someone wanted in, but it would give her time. Jacqui stared at her, torn between anger and fear. Whatever else had happened, Emily had undone most of her authority. Rumors would already be spreading through the school.

  “Emily,” Jacqui said, again. “What are you ...?”

  Emily reached out with her magic, crashing a tidal wave of raw power into the desk. It shattered, pieces of wood and sheets of paper flying in all directions. Jacqui let out a yelp and jumped backwards, almost tripping over her chair. Emily reined in her power and marched forward. Before Jacqui could react, Emily caught hold of her lapels and slammed her up against the wall. Jacqui wasn’t strong enough to resist.

  “Tell me,” Emily snarled. The urge to just slam her magic into Jacqui and smash her to a pulp was almost overwhelming. “Tell me ... what were you thinking?”

  Jacqui’s body jerked against hers. “Let go of me!”

  “What were you thinking?” Emily repeated. “Why did you tell Frieda she was going to die?”

  Jacqui’s eyes went wide. “I ...”

  “She nearly killed herself, you little bitch,” Emily snarled. Power rose within her, answering her call. She wanted to let loose, to tear Jacqui into little pieces. Red fire burned at the corner of her eyes as the magic grew stronger. “She could have died! And you would have killed her!”

  Jacqui panicked and cast a hex. Emily allowed it to throw her backwards, but caught herself before she hit the far wall. Jacqui was trembling, her entire body shaking so badly she could barely point her finger at Emily, let alone cast a spell. Emily felt a surge of pure hatred, mingled with rage. How dare Jacqui try to kill Frieda? How dare she!

  “I’m the Head Girl,” Jacqui managed. “I ... you can’t ...”

  Jacqui straightened, suddenly. “You lost the job. I’m in charge now, not you! You do as I say!”

  Emily fought to get her anger under control. “Oh, yeah? Make me.”

  Jacqui slipped into casting pose and threw a hex, followed by four more. Emily swatted them aside, silently cursing Jacqui’s teacher under her breath. He’d taught her to duel, but not to fight. The hexes lacked the power to break through Emily’s wards or the precision to sneak through them. Jacqui was still playing games, while Emily had been to war. She’d known she had training and experience most of her fellow students lacked, but she hadn’t realized just how wide the gulf truly was. She knew now.

  “Damn you,” Jacqui said. “I will not let you ...”

  She cast a more complex spell, one she should have cast at the start. It didn’t matter. Emily ripped the spellware apart with a burst of raw power, then slammed a second burst into Jacqui, throwing her back against the wall. Jacqui’s wards blazed to life, light flaring around her as they tried to shield her from the attack, but it was only a matter of time before they collapsed. Emily took a step forward, then another, as she brought her full power to bear on the other girl. Lady Barb would have beaten her for wasting power so casually, but it hardly mattered. Jacqui simply didn’t have either the power to fight her directly or the skill to turn Emily’s power against her.

  Jacqui’s wards broke. Her legs buckled, sending her staggering downwards. Emily walked forward, pushing through the remnants of Jacqui’s magic as if they were nothing more than droplets of water floating in the air. She caught hold of the girl again and dragged her upright, forcing her to make eye contact. The dark-skinned girl was trembling, helplessly, as Emily refused to let her look away. Her magic was unable to focus ...

  Emily’s eyes bored into Jacqui’s. “I’ve fought necromancers! I went toe-to-toe with powerful magicians. I even killed a combat sorcerer - you watched as I killed a combat sorcerer. Did you really think I would be scared of you?”

  Jacqui whimpered. Emily sniffed the air, then grimaced in disgust. Jacqui had wet herself.

  “You’ve never been in a real fight,” Emily added. “You never even took Martial Magic! Did you think I’d roll over and let you get away with trying to kill my friend?”

  “She’s ruined you,” Jacqui managed. She twisted, unable to break eye contact. “She ...”

  Emily felt her fingers tighten, almost against her will. The urge to just strangle Jacqui blazed through her mind. She could squeeze and ...

  “She’s my friend,” Emily snarled. “And that’s more important to me than you.”

  A thought struck her suddenly and she leaned forward. “It was you spreading those rumors about me, wasn’t it?”

  Jacqui opened her mouth, but said nothing. Emily’s magic grew stronger, reacting to her unspoken desires. She wanted to hurt Jacqui, to tear her into shreds, and yet ... for the first time, she was almost scared of her own power. The murderous impulse could not be allowed to take root.

  She gritted her teeth. “The rumors stopped when you became Head Girl,”
she said, trying to keep her rage under control. “You got what you wanted, didn’t you? Or were you just too busy to keep spreading them?”

  Another piece of the puzzle fell into place. “You’re working for Fulvia, aren’t you? She ordered you to undermine me ...”

  Jacqui’s trembling grew stronger. “She’ll kill me!”

  Emily tightened her grip. “I’ll kill you,” she shouted. Rage boiled through her mind, pushing common sense aside. In hindsight, she should have seen it earlier. She’d just assumed that Melissa’s disownment meant Jacqui and Cerise were also out of favor. Gaius’s true companions had certainly not stayed loyal to House Ashworth after the marriage debacle. It had been a stupid mistake. “What did she tell you to do?”

  “To make sure your name was mud by the end of the year,” Jacqui said. “I did it! I brought the broadsheets up to the castle and ...”

  “And blackened my name,” Emily finished. The irony was that she’d barely noticed. It had taken Caleb to point it out to her, before it became obvious. “And Frieda’s too, right? Did you know something was going to happen to her?”

  “No,” Jacqui said, chokingly. One hand battered weakly at Emily’s. “I didn’t know! I didn’t ...”

  Emily threw her aside. Jacqui landed badly and lay on the floor, gasping and weeping. No one had taught her how to land either. Emily would have rolled over at once, trying to get out of the firing line before something else happened. It would have been easy, too. Jacqui hadn’t landed that hard. But no one had taught her how to handle real pain ...

  “You could have killed Frieda,” Emily said. “And do you think that Fulvia would have lifted a finger to save you?”

  Jacqui slowly climbed to her feet. She was a mess. Her hair was down and tears streaked her face; there were nasty marks on her neck where Emily had grabbed her and held tight. And her trousers were sodden. Emily felt a flicker of disgust, mingled with an odd form of guilt. She wanted Jacqui to pay, but ... like this?

  “I did what I had to do,” Jacqui managed. “And I ...”

  Emily flourished her power, blazing it as brightly as she could. Jacqui stumbled, then fell to her knees. Emily watched in satisfaction as Jacqui bowed her head in helpless submission, then felt a wave of guilt and pure self-disgust. The anger cooled as she looked at the weeping girl. She’d broken Jacqui. She would never be the same again. Jacqui might never recover.

  So what? Emily asked herself. Frieda might never recover either.

  She watched Jacqui for a long moment, torn between the urge to walk out or try to comfort the other girl. And yet, what could she say? Jacqui had been the heir to an aristocratic house, secure in the knowledge that her family would defend her; now, she was torn and broken, utterly aware - right down to the very core of her being - that the Angel of Death had brushed her with his wings. Fulvia couldn’t save her, if Emily decided to finish the job. And Jacqui had no idea just how badly outmatched she’d been until it was far too late.

  As if I’d tried to fight Void, Emily thought, remembering the endlessly complex spells Void had effortlessly cast. But without knowing I was trying to fight Void.

  Jacqui’s sobbing grew louder. Emily felt ... she wasn’t sure what she felt. She understood why Lady Barb and Sienna tried hard to project tough personas, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to do it herself. She didn’t like crossing the line between expressing herself and intimidating everyone else. She felt ... dirty. She felt as if she was little better than a bully.

  And yet, Jacqui had deserved it.

  “You went too far,” Emily said. She wasn’t sure Jacqui was even listening. “You acted like a dictator and you made the entire school ally against you. What were you thinking?”

  There was no answer. Emily shook her head in tired disgust, although she wasn’t sure if she was more disgusted at Jacqui or herself. She was surprised no one had broken down the door yet. Jacqui had erected formidable wards, but there was no way she should have been able to keep the school’s wards from noticing the power Emily had unleashed. Come to think of it, Jacqui’s wards had to be in tatters. They hadn’t been designed to contain so much power.

  The sobbing grew louder. There was something about the wrenching sound that made it impossible to believe she was faking. Jacqui had been badly shocked. She knew, now, just how close she’d come to death. And yet ...

  Emily frowned. There was something about the whole situation that didn’t quite make sense.

  She looked around the office - the office that had once been hers - and tried to think. Jacqui was working for Fulvia, which meant she wouldn’t want to do anything that went against her patron’s interests. Fulvia would kill her just as surely as Emily and no one would question her, not if she’d betrayed her patron. And yet ...

  Her eyes narrowed. “Fulvia didn’t order you to push Frieda into trying to kill herself, did she?”

  Jacqui shuddered, glancing up briefly before looking down again. Emily found herself torn between anger and an insane urge to giggle hysterically. There was no way Fulvia would want Frieda dead, not now. A dead Frieda couldn’t be handed over to House Ashworth and turned into a bargaining chip. There was certainly no point in continuing the inquest if the defendant was dead! Jacqui had inadvertently picked a fight with her own patron as well as Emily herself.

  Emily forced herself to laugh. “What were you thinking? Do you realize how close Fulvia came to disaster?”

  “Go away,” Jacqui managed. She made no move to get off her knees. “I ...”

  Emily stepped forward until she was towering over Jacqui. “You are going to do something for me, when I ask. Or I’ll make sure that everyone knows just how close you came to ruining Fulvia’s plans. And what will happen to you then?”

  Jacqui whimpered, but made no attempt to answer. Emily shrugged. If Jacqui was lucky, she’d be kicked out of her family with nothing more than the clothes on her back. Fulvia was at the top of the patronage network, after all. Jacqui would never find another patron because no one would ever trust her again. And if she was unlucky ... Melissa’s memories surfaced, once again. Fulvia would kill Jacqui as painfully as possible, pour encourager les autres, just to make it clear that outright betrayal would not be tolerated.

  And Jacqui knows the rumors will have mutated by the time they reach Fulvia’s ears, Emily thought. Everyone will be saying Jacqui was trying to help me.

  She looked down at the other girl, feeling ... she still wasn’t sure what she felt. Her feelings were a tangled mess of cold delight and righteousness, mixed with guilt and a bitter awareness that she might have crossed the line. She hadn’t taken Jacqui to a spellchamber and dueled with her, she’d ... she’d crushed Jacqui without hesitation. And she’d broken her.

  The door shook. Emily sighed, reining in her power as much as possible. Jacqui’s whimpers grew louder, an instant before the door opened. Gordian stepped into the office, carrying a wand in one hand. He started when he saw Jacqui, a wave of conflicting emotions washing over his face. Emily had a moment to feel relief that Sergeant Miles wasn’t with him before he pointed the wand at her. She could sense very powerful magic crackling around the tip, powerful enough to do real harm. But she didn’t dare try to shield herself until she knew he was going to curse her.

  “What happened?”

  Emily looked back at him, as evenly as she could. She’d be expelled for this. Or she would be, if Gordian wasn’t caught in a tangled knot of his own making. Jacqui had pushed Frieda towards suicide, after all. And she’d spread rumors about the Head Girl ... the then Head Girl. God alone knew how Gordian was going to react. He’d appointed Jacqui to her post. He might want to bury the whole affair just to keep it from slopping on him.

  “She nearly killed Frieda,” Emily said. She gritted her teeth. Most of the senior magicians she’d met might be quietly relieved if Frieda had killed herself. It would have saved them from having to fight or abandon her. But Emily couldn’t think like that. She wasn’t going to sacrifice Frieda to
save herself. “I taught her a lesson.”

  Gordian’s eyes flickered to Jacqui. It had to look even worse to him, Emily reflected, as she felt the last of her anger drain away. Jacqui was twenty-one, old enough to have children and yet quite young compared to Gordian. And now she was a pitiful sight. Emily wondered, sourly, just what sort of deals had been done behind the scenes, when Jacqui had been appointed Head Girl. Did Gordian know she had ties to Fulvia? And, if so, had Fulvia pushed for Jacqui’s appointment?

  If she’d been Head Girl from the start, Emily thought, she would have had so many other ways to make my life miserable.

  “So it would seem,” Gordian said, finally. He narrowed his eyes as he looked back at Emily. “Believe me, we will be discussing this thoroughly later.”

  Emily nodded, wordlessly. He’d want to expel her, of course; if not now, then when he’d worked out what had happened. Perhaps she should just leave. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have options. She could go anywhere.

  “As it happens, Master Highland has ... requested ... the pleasure of your company at breakfast,” Gordian added. “I suggest” - his tone made it clear it was an order - “that you go back to your bedroom, change into something a little less comfortable and then join him. I have taken the liberty of excusing you from your morning classes.”

  Emily looked down at herself, feeling her cheeks heat with embarrassment. The dress was torn in a dozen places, the neckline pulled down to expose more cleavage than she’d ever dared show in her life. She wasn’t dressed for classes, let alone an important meeting. And yet ...

  “Thank you, sir,” she managed. “And ...”

  “Go,” Gordian ordered. He lowered his voice. His eyes were very cold and hard. “And afterwards, report to my office. We will have a lot to discuss.”

  Emily swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter Thirty

  EMILY COULDN’T HELP FEELING CONFLICTED AS she showered and then examined the collection of clothes in her drawers. What should she wear to an important meeting? A dress seemed out of place, drawing attention to her femininity rather than her power, while her school robes would only underline her relative youth. And yet ... she looked down at the clothes for a long moment, then donned a simple set of robes and tied her hair back into a long braid. It wasn’t exactly a professional suit, but it would have to do.