Master Highland knows I have no right to wear sorcerer’s robes, not yet, she told herself. And everything else comes with disadvantages.
She checked her appearance in the mirror, then hurried out of the bedroom. By now, the entire school probably knew she’d had a fight with Jacqui ... unless Gordian had managed to cover it up. Emily couldn’t see how. She’d ordered ten younger students to go, overriding the Head Girl’s instructions with effortless ease. Gordian couldn’t hide that, could he? But then, there was a good chance the rumors had already mutated into something utterly unbelievable. Gordian might just fan the flames enough to ensure no one believed what they heard.
And he’s going to have to do something to me, Emily thought. A cold weight settled at the bottom of her stomach. Gordian could not overlook what she’d done to Jacqui, no matter what Jacqui had done. And then ... Emily reached out to touch the school’s wards, drawing silent strength from their presence. She wasn’t sure what would happen if Gordian tried to expel her - and she didn’t want to go - but she doubted it would be pleasant. We might wind up fighting for the school.
The bell rang as she reached the stairs, a grim reminder that she was going to miss at least one class, and probably two. Gordian would want to give her an in-school suspension at the very least, if he didn’t try to expel her outright. Fulvia might want to make Emily the subject of another inquest, but that would depend on Jacqui telling her precisely what had happened and why. Emily doubted the other girl would have the nerve. Fulvia wasn’t the kind of person to bless initiative, even if Jacqui had planned everything from the start.
She walked up the stairs, ignoring a stream of students heading down to classes. It would have been nice to see Jade or Cat or even Caleb, but there was no one she recognized ... not that it mattered. She had to face Master Highland alone. It wasn’t a surprise, somehow, to realize that his quarters weren’t far from Fulvia’s. He could have discussed matters with her at any point, if he wished. Emily had to remind herself that Jade, Cat and Markus had rooms of their own nearby. Only Zed had declined the offer of accommodation in Whitehall.
Emily took a long breath as she stopped outside the door, trying to calm herself. Intentionally or not, Jacqui had really thrown her off her game. She had to tell herself, firmly, that Jacqui couldn’t have planned everything. It had been sheer luck that Frieda hadn’t actually managed to commit suicide. Or, for that matter, that Emily hadn’t smashed Jacqui into pulp. If she’d lost control, for just a fraction of a second, Jacqui would have died.
Be calm, she thought. Master Highland considered her a supplicant, no doubt. And while he was right, he didn’t hold all the cards. She had influence and power and - most importantly of all - bargaining chips. And don’t let him overawe you.
She tapped the door, once. It swung open a moment later, inviting her to enter a comfortable sitting room. It was nice, she supposed as her eyes swept the room: a sofa, a large dining table, two chairs and a fire burning merrily in the grate. Master Highland was sitting at the table, his face calm and composed. He rose to greet her as she approached.
“Lady Emily.” He looked her up and down, then nodded in cold approval. “Please, be seated.”
“Thank you,” Emily said. She couldn’t help wondering what he’d found in her appearance to approve. Perhaps it was her attempt at a professional demeanor. “The Grandmaster was kind enough to give me your invitation.”
She sat, resting her hands on her lap as she studied him. Master Highland was difficult to place; his skin was dark brown and his eyes were darker, but his features were more Native American than Indian. She couldn’t help thinking he looked like a hawk, right down to the sharp nose and bushy black eyebrows. He wore a black outfit - shirt and trousers - that were carefully tailored to allow him to move freely. And he carried a sword at his belt.
Which is enough to mark him as a combat magician, she thought. And that makes him a very dangerous man indeed.
“I have ordered breakfast for us,” Master Highland said. “The Grandmaster was also kind enough to assure me that you would have time for a proper discussion.”
“I will have to catch up on those classes,” Emily said. “Unless you’re offering private tuition ...”
“Professor Lombardi would not be happy if I did,” Master Highland said. His lips quirked, as if she’d said something funny. “My style of teaching will not mesh with his.”
The door opened. A maid entered, pushing a trolley. Emily sat back and watched as she unloaded kippers, bread and butter and a large pot of Kava, then withdrew as silently as she’d come. As soon as the door closed behind her, Master Highland cast a series of privacy wards into the air, including two Emily didn’t recognize. She made a note to look them up as soon as she had a chance, although she knew that was meaningless. Master Highland was certainly competent enough to invent unique wards for himself.
“Fish was quite rare when I was a lad,” Master Highland said, as he ladled a kipper onto Emily’s plate. “We lived far inland, well away from the nearest portal, and there were limits to what could be shipped to us. I learned to love it because we only ever ate it on the High Holy Day. My father would make the trip to Farnham every year, just to make sure the town was well-stocked with fish.”
Emily took a piece of bread and started to butter it. “Why did you eat fish on that day?”
“Most of the people in the town were followers of Ikan Bakar,” Master Highland said. “By custom, the god would hand out fish to his devotees on his Holy Day. My mother was the only one in the family who truly believed, but we ate the fish anyway. And then I went to Heart’s Eye, where fish was plentiful and cheap.”
Emily nodded, slowly. The Nameless World didn’t have an elaborate system for distributing food around the continent. Fish was very cheap in Beneficence, but prohibitively expensive in the Cairngorms; venison was relatively cheap in the Cairngorms, yet very costly in Beneficence. The aristocracy didn’t help by reserving vast parts of the countryside to themselves. Peasants were technically forbidden to hunt deer or pheasants, as well as a number of other animals. Poachers would be lucky if they were only hanged when they were caught.
She ate slowly, torn between enjoyment - the food was good - and a desperate wish that he’d get to the point. They both knew why he’d invited her to breakfast and it was nothing to do with her personality. Or even simple friendship. He wanted to make a deal and she knew it. There was nothing to be gained by prolonging the agony. She made as much small talk as she could, listening to his stories and offering comments in expected places. It was all she could do to keep her frustration from showing openly. There was no way to escape the sense that she was running short of time.
“There was a time when Heart’s Eye was truly great,” Master Highland said, as he poured himself another mug of Kava. “We were the leaders in applied magical research. Portals came out of Heart’s Eye, not Whitehall. Did you know that?”
“No,” Emily said. She’d always assumed that a research sorcerer in an isolated complex had devised the first portals. Perhaps someone at Heart’s Eye had looked at the nexus point and started wondering just what they could do with such an abundance of power. “Do you know what they were doing before the school fell?”
Master Highland shook his head. “Everyone who was in the school at the time died,” he said, softly. He’d probably known most of them personally. “Did you find any notes while you were there?”
“Just mirrors,” Emily said. “Why were there so many mirrors in the school?”
“I was never quite sure,” Master Highland said. “We used to joke that the founder was vain, but ... if there was something more to it than that, I was never told.”
He leaned back in his chair. “I shall be blunt. You need me to vote in your favor next weekend, when the jurors will be called upon to make their decision. And right now, the vote could go either way. What are you prepared to offer me to cast my vote for acquittal?”
Emily felt a hot
flash of anger. She ruthlessly forced it down. “I shall be equally blunt,” she said. “The only thing I have that you want is Heart’s Eye, correct?”
“More or less,” Master Highland agreed. He didn’t sound angry. “Hand over the school - and control of the wards - to me and I shall vote in your favor.”
“A very tempting offer,” Emily commented.
She watched him carefully, catching the barest flicker of surprise on his face. She’d just hinted that she was willing to part with a priceless object in exchange for his vote. She might as well have offered to pay a billion dollars for a used car. And yet, he’d be suspicious if she agreed outright. He might have something she wanted, but the balance of power wasn’t that lopsided. If nothing else, Fulvia might want Heart’s Eye too.
Imaiqah would be better at bargaining, Emily thought. But she’s on the other side of the continent.
“I think you also know that it is a very unbalanced offer,” she added, after a moment. “Why would I trade Heart’s Eye for Frieda’s life?”
“I assume you want her to live,” Master Highland said. “You know as well as I do that Fulvia will either kill or enslave Frieda, if judgement is made in her favor.”
“True,” Emily agreed. “But I might be able to make smaller offers to Cat or Master Grimhold.”
“Grimhold has ties to Fulvia.” Master Highland’s lips curved into a cold smile. “Why do you think Fulvia didn’t challenge the neutral jurors?”
Emily thought fast. Fulvia hadn’t challenged, something she’d thought was odd. But if Master Grimhold was already on her side - and Cat was on Emily’s - that left Master Highland holding the deciding vote. Come to think of it, Fulvia might not have realized there was a connection between Cat and Emily. They’d both gone to Whitehall, true, but they might not have met.
Unless she knows we were both at Farrakhan, Emily reminded herself. Gaius could have told her, if they were still talking.
She dismissed the thought. It didn’t matter. Right now, all that mattered was that Master Highland had the deciding vote.
“I don’t think I have anything else you want,” she said. She couldn’t think of anything else Master Highland could honorably demand, unless he wanted her as an apprentice. It was possible, she supposed, but unlikely. “And yet, I’m not prepared to surrender Heart’s Eye either.”
“Then you will have to prepare to watch your friend die - or suffer a fate worse than death,” Master Highland said. He took a sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving her face. “I’m sure the former school will console you in your grief.”
Emily looked back at him, carefully. “On the face of it, you’d have problems reopening Heart’s Eye. The school’s defenses have already been shown to be ... inadequate ... in the face of concentrated attack. It would be difficult, would it not, to convince parents to allow their children to study there? It’s been long enough since the school fell for parents to get used to the idea of sending magical kids to Whitehall or Mountaintop or even Laughter.”
She cocked her head. “Correct?”
Master Highland showed no visible reaction. “Most of those problems can be overcome.”
“There’s also the problem that the school is located in a desolate area,” Emily continued, remorselessly. “The closest human habitation - now - is Farrakhan, which is a day away on horseback. You’d have terrible trouble rebuilding the settlements closer to the school, if the land could support them ... which it can’t. And you need my help to keep the nexus point firmly under control.”
“I admit it will take time to return Heart’s Eye to its former glory,” Master Highland said, stiffly. “And your assistance would be part of the bargain.”
Emily met his eyes. “Would it, now?”
She leaned forward, trying to signal a readiness to bargain with an unwillingness to concede too much. “Let me tell you what I have in mind. A university. A center for learning and research, both magical and mundane. A place where inquiring minds can combine the different magical disciplines to produce newer and better effects, pushing the limits of technology at the same time. Heart’s Eye wouldn’t be a school any longer, but it would be something better, a place poised to ride the changes spreading through the world.”
Master Highland frowned. “And why would those changes be significant?”
“You saw what gunpowder did during the war,” Emily pointed out. She wondered, absently, if he saw gunpowder as a deadly threat. Anyone could pick up and fire a gun, when it could take years to master magic or swords. “And railways are already changing the face of Beneficence and Zangaria. I happen to know that a dozen other kingdoms are already pushing railways and steamboats, trying to steal a march on their competitors. And it’s only the beginning. The pace of development will go places I can’t even imagine.”
“I can cast a ward against bullets,” Master Highland pointed out.
“You’d have to expend energy on keeping the ward in place,” Emily pointed out. A ward designed to stop physical objects required more magic than a basic protection spell. “And your opponent would have plenty of time to do something else.”
“I can also teleport faster than your railway engines,” Master Highland added. “What good are they?”
Emily smiled. Benjamin Franklin had been asked the same question. And his answer had echoed down the ages. “What good is a newborn baby?”
“Touché,” Master Highland said. He smiled, rather thinly. “And what are you prepared to offer?”
“We need help from trained and experienced sorcerers,” Emily said. “I and a few friends have started to plan the university, but ... we can’t do it alone. Ideally, we’d need people who already know Heart’s Eye. I can offer you the chance to take part in something new and different, something that would change the world. You said that Heart’s Eye was already good for research. Let us take that to the next level.”
Master Highland studied her for a long moment. “You’d give us real authority?”
“You’d be on the Board of Governors,” Emily said. She shrugged. They hadn’t planned that far ahead, not yet. “And yes, you’d have a say in proceedings.”
“But not a deciding say,” Master Highland said, smoothly. “And if I choose to refuse?”
“I might win the vote anyway,” Emily pointed out. “And if I don’t, I will still have Heart’s Eye as a bargaining chip. Fulvia might wind up with the school.”
“You cannot give it to her,” Master Highland told her. His face twisted. “Lady Emily ... my offer is the best you will get.”
Emily looked back at him. “Do you really expect me to give up something utterly priceless to save one life?”
She fought to keep her face expressionless. Everyone she’d met, even Lady Barb, wouldn’t expect her to put Frieda ahead of Heart’s Eye. But she might make that decision, if things went badly against her. Fulvia would be utterly delighted to get control of a second nexus point, one that would be exclusively hers instead of belonging to her family. Master Highland could not afford to allow Fulvia to claim Heart’s Eye.
Which means he might just expect me to let Frieda go, if Fulvia stakes her claim, Emily thought sourly. But that would put Heart’s Eye out of his reach forever.
“I will discuss your offer with my comrades,” Master Highland said. “I believe they will accept, provided we make a formal agreement regarding your ... university. It would certainly allow us to achieve some of our goals. And there might be room for adding younger classes later.”
“There might,” Emily agreed. “Do we have a provisional agreement?”
“I believe so,” Master Highland said. “My vote for our involvement in your project.”
“And Frieda’s acquittal,” Emily said.
Master Highland tapped his forehead in wry salute. “I can try to influence the other jurors, but most of them have already made up their minds,” he said. “There is no way I can guarantee anything beyond my own vote - and you know it.”
“I know,” Emily conceded. She should have enough votes, right? Jade, Markus, Zed, Cat, Master Highland ... that was five. And no one would question their decision, as Frieda’s guilt had not been established beyond all doubt. “I thank you.”
It wasn’t a good deal, she reflected as she left his room. But it was the best she was going to get. And yet, she felt dirty, as if she’d stepped in something unclean ...
It had to be done, she told herself. And we might just win this after all.
Chapter Thirty-One
“EMILY,” CALEB CALLED.
Emily looked up, surprised. She knew she should have gone straight to Gordian’s office after leaving Master Highland, but ... she’d just found an abandoned classroom and sat down. She felt tired and drained, yet she’d drunk too much Kava for her own good. Her heart was thumping in her chest as she fought to control her breathing. She looked back down as Caleb closed the classroom door and walked towards her. He looked as if he’d just sneaked out of class.
“Emily,” Caleb repeated. “Are you alright?”
“I don’t know,” Emily said. She closed her eyes, wishing for sleep. But she was too caffeinated to sleep. “I think I might have done something clever or stupid.”
Caleb sat next to her. “What did you do?”
“I made a deal,” Emily said. She told him, briefly, about how she’d invited Master Highland and his friends to join the university. “Did I do the right thing?”
“You’re asking me?” Caleb snorted, rudely. “What do you think?”
Emily opened her eyes. “The university was our project,” she said. “And now ... we’re going to have help.”
Graduation Day (Schooled in Magic Book 14) Page 29