Markus nudged him. “Watch your language. There are ladies present.”
Emily interrupted before Cat could think of a response. “I have to make some final preparations,” she said, looking down at herself. She’d changed into a black shirt and trousers, then donned a long black dress. It was hot enough to make her feel uncomfortable, but hopefully Fulvia wouldn’t realize she could take off the dress if she wanted to move freely. “Melissa, can you and the others speak to Adana?”
“We will,” Melissa said. “We’ll do the chat parchments first.”
She glanced at her watch. “And we should be in place before you and Jacqui arrive.”
“Let us hope so,” Emily said, grimly. She picked up the bag on her bed and passed it to Melissa. “You know how to use this.”
Melissa nodded. Two batteries, two valves ... Emily hadn’t had time to improve the design, but Melissa should have no problems using them. And she was the only person in the room who knew what they were. Emily sighed, inwardly, as she checked her own bag. That secret was likely to leak out soon too, if only because the men would start asking questions.
There’s no choice, she told herself, firmly. If Fulvia insists on me leaving everything outside the manor, Melissa will still take two batteries into the wards.
“Good luck to us all,” she said. “And thank you.”
She watched as Melissa, Markus and Jade filed out, leaving her alone with Cat. Emily looked at him, feeling torn. Part of her wanted to kiss him, despite ... despite not knowing what sort of feelings he might have for her. But the rest of her knew she couldn’t afford distractions.
“Frieda is lucky to have you as a friend,” Cat said. He shot her a wry smile. “And Fulvia is unlucky to have you as an enemy.”
“I hope so,” Emily said. Necromancers were powerful, but they weren’t very cunning. The word subtle wasn’t in their lexicon. But Fulvia was old and knowledgeable and very dangerous. “You take care of them, okay?”
“I will,” Cat promised. “And I’ll even take care of you.”
He leaned forward and kissed her lightly, his lips brushing across hers. Emily kissed him back, feeling a sudden wave of desperation. There was no guarantee they’d make it back. Her heartbeat started to race. She wanted to make out with him. It might be her last chance. But she didn’t have time. She just couldn’t give in to the sensation ...
Cat drew back. “Be careful,” he said. “I’ll see you on the far side.”
Emily watched him go, taking deep breaths to calm herself. He was attractive ... she was attracted to him, even though she wasn’t entirely sure why. Cat was muscular enough to set off warning bells in her mind, his arms strong enough to crush her if he squeezed, yet ... she liked him. And yet ... she didn’t have time to act on the attraction. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted to do.
Be honest, she told herself. You know precisely what you want to do.
She pushed the thought out of her head as she checked her bag one final time. The false bottom would conceal the battery and valve, she was sure, although she had no idea what would happen if Fulvia forced it open. Would she recognize the battery for what it was, despite the obscurification charms? It was certainly a little out of place amidst the change in clothes. Or would she think that Emily was just trying to distract her? There was no way to know.
The wards flickered against her mind as she lay back on the bed, watching the seconds ticking away. Gordian was still at work, repairing the damage ... Emily suspected he was wasting his time. The core routines were still intact - she didn’t think they could be subverted without bringing the entire network down - but the remainder of the spellware was dangerously fragile. Perhaps, given time, she could fix the problem ... if Gordian allowed her to return to the school. He might just slam the door in her face when she returned.
And all of this happened because he didn’t trust me with the wards, Emily thought. Would Fulvia have risked so much if she couldn’t snatch Frieda? Or bring an army into the school?
She sat up, smoothed down her skirt and headed for the door. It was time. She walked down the stairs, quietly ignoring the stares. Something had clearly got out, then ... she resisted the urge to reach through the mental link and ask Melissa what Adana had heard. By now, the rumors no longer mattered. In truth, she wasn’t sure if she would go back to Whitehall after the rescue. Perhaps she and Frieda could go elsewhere.
Frieda will need a proper teacher, she reminded herself, as she reached the bottom of the stairs and strode into the entrance hall. And Void won’t do that for her.
Jacqui was already waiting, pacing backwards and forwards. Her eyes were wide with quiet desperation. Someone had probably ordered her out of the lobby already... Cirroc, perhaps. The Head Boy had spent plenty of time ordering Emily around, after all. Emily had no doubt he’d do the same to Jacqui. He had to make it clear they were no longer in charge, perhaps not even in authority. But Jacqui hadn’t hesitated to put Emily in positions of power.
Only because she didn’t have anyone else to call upon, Emily reminded herself. The entire year resisted her.
“I’m here,” she said. “Shall we go?”
Jacqui opened her mouth, then nodded slowly and turned towards the door. Emily followed her, silently probing her protections as they walked through the courtyard and down the driveway. It was surprisingly normal, despite the chaos Fulvia had unleashed inside the school. Gordian was clearly trying to keep up appearances. Hundreds of students were clearly visible, some kicking a football around while others sat on rugs and tried to read. She felt an odd pang of wistful envy as the football players ran in front of them, hooting and hollering as the ball ran into the herbal garden and got stuck. She’d never been able to be so carefree, even when she’d been a little girl. And she’d never had friends.
I have friends now, she told herself, firmly. And I will do anything for them.
Jacqui stopped as they reached the edge of the wards. “I’m sorry,” she said, although she didn’t look at Emily as she said it. “I wasn’t given a choice.”
Emily swallowed several nasty answers. Fulvia might well have ordered Jacqui to take Emily to House Ashworth. Emily certainly believed it. But Fulvia, as unpleasant as she was, hadn’t ordered Jacqui to pick a fight with the entire school, let alone drive Frieda to attempt suicide. Fulvia would not have been happy when she found out. The battering Jacqui had taken might well have been a form of punishment. Now ...
“I’m sure you weren’t,” Emily said, tartly. She felt another flicker of guilt, mingled with heady satisfaction, as Jacqui flinched. “But does that really matter?”
Jacqui said nothing. Instead, she reached out and took hold - very light hold - of Emily’s upper arm. Emily rolled her eyes, remembering Sergeant Harkin mocking the concept of capturing a woman by merely holding her arm. It only worked, he’d said, if the woman was unable or unwilling to fight back. Breaking free would be easy ... Emily certainly knew how to escape. But she wanted Jacqui to take her ...
She closed her eyes as the world lurched violently. Jacqui was clearly not an experienced teleporter. Whoever had taught her hadn’t bothered to show her anything more than the basics. Unless she meant to disorient Emily ... Emily opened her eyes and pulled her arm free as soon as the teleport field snapped out of existence. She was standing on a grassy knoll, looking down at a giant manor. There was so much magic in the air that the manor looked distorted, as if it were simultaneously bigger than Whitehall and smaller than a doll’s house. Emily’s head ached as she looked at the ground, gathering herself. Her perceptions were distorted too.
“Welcome to House Ashworth,” Jacqui said. She pointed down a long stone pathway, leading to the manor. “Walk down there and through the wards.”
Emily quirked an eyebrow. “You’re not coming?”
“I haven’t been invited,” Jacqui said. She sounded as though she’d recovered a little of her old confidence. “I trust you’ll understand if I don’t wish you good luck
?”
“Of course,” Emily said, dryly. She resisted the urge to slap Jacqui down. Instead, she pointed out the obvious. “You do realize that she’ll use you up, then dispose of you?”
Jacqui looked pained. “I ...”
Emily shrugged. She didn’t want to spend time with Jacqui. She certainly didn’t want to reach out to her. She’d be happy as long as she never had to see Jacqui again. She turned and concentrated her mind, allowing Melissa’s memories to guide her. The distortion was a defense, apparently. It made it harder for anyone to approach the building without permission.
Like a maze, Emily thought, as she started to walk. The path twisted and turned under her feet, as if the world itself was being twisted into a pretzel. She knew it was illusion - mostly - and yet it was hard to keep going. A person who approaches without permission might never get anywhere near the gate.
The distortion snapped out of existence, as if someone had thrown a switch. House Ashworth loomed into view, dominating the surrounding hollow. Emily stopped and looked up at it, unsure what to say. It looked like a stately home, rather than a fortress: boxy wings, covered with windows, fancy designs and magic runes. It looked so fragile that a single cannonball would bring it crashing down into a pile of rubble. And yet she could feel the nexus point deep inside, its power pulsing through the walls. The inhabitants could hold off an entire army, as long as they had the nexus point under control.
She concentrated on her link to Melissa. Are you there?
We are ready, Melissa sent back. Good luck.
The door opened. A man stood there, waiting for her. He was in his late thirties, she thought, but there was something dead in the way he held himself. Emily felt a shiver running down her spine as she realized that he was nothing more than a slave. Fulvia was practically operating his body on remote control. She met his eyes and shivered, again. She’d seen Shadye reanimate skeletons, but this was worse. The man wasn’t dead. And there was something damned and suffering in his gaze.
“Follow me,” he ordered. He spoke as if he didn’t quite know how to use his voice. “Now.”
Emily gritted her teeth, feeling the wards swelling around her. They were nasty, tinged with spellware that burned against her mind. She dreaded to think of what would happen if - when - they were turned against her, but it was already too late to change her mind. They had to go through with the plan.
And as long as Fulvia is focused on me, Emily told herself, she won’t be looking anywhere else.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
EMILY HAD ENVIED MELISSA, AT LEAST at first, for growing up in a magical household with entire libraries of magical knowledge to study, hundreds of relatives to play with and enough money never to have a care in the world. Even after Melissa had been disowned, there had still been a part of Emily that had envied her. But now, walking through House Ashworth, Emily felt the remnants of that feeling sliding out of her mind. House Ashworth was creepy.
She glanced from side to side as the puppet-man led her through an endless series of rooms and staircases, steadily leading down into the lower levels. The rooms were richly decorated, showing off the family’s wealth, but the people in them were either frozen or puppets. Emily silently compared it to a Borg ship, with drones going about their business and ignoring everything else as long as they didn’t consider it a threat. The nexus point grew stronger, its power tinged with cold malice that tore at Emily’s heart and soul. She couldn’t help thinking that she might have made a mistake, no matter how many precautions she’d taken. Fulvia would have no difficulty breaking down her defenses if she focused the full power of the nexus point on her.
Two young men and a young woman walked past them, heading upwards. Their eyes were dead, yet somehow damned and suffering too. Emily felt a stab of sympathy for them, mingled with a grim awareness that she might suffer the same fate. Fulvia had done something utterly unforgivable. Her skin crawled as they walked through a stone archway, a dozen wards brushing over Emily before allowing her to go through. Fulvia hadn’t ordered her to strip naked, she thought, or ordered any of her cronies to strip-search her before she entered the manor. She hadn’t had to do anything of the sort. The wards had scanned Emily thoroughly for potential threats already.
They missed the battery, she thought. But then, they might just have taken it for a charged wand.
The puppet-man stopped outside a simple wooden door. “Go inside,” he ordered. “Now.”
Emily hesitated, then walked forward. There were hundreds of spells crawling over the wood, some of them so powerful and old that she knew they predated Fulvia ... they might just date back to the first Ashworth himself. She’d looked up the family’s history once, but there was almost nothing she could depend upon in the books. Anything dating back over four hundred years was considered unreliable at best. And yet, if the spells really had lasted that long ...
They’re drawing off the nexus point, she thought, as she walked through the door. The wards probed at her, then drew back. She could still feel them, throbbing against her mind. One false move and they’d crush her. And that’s what’s kept them going.
The room was vast, easily large enough to hold the entire family. Fulvia stood on a dais, completely alone. There was no sign of Frieda, let alone the rest of the Ashworths. Emily took a step forward, trying to reach out with her senses. But the wards pressed down on her so hard that her senses were almost completely useless. She had to rein them in just to avoid being blinded.
“Emily,” Fulvia said. Her voice was surprisingly gracious. “Welcome.”
Emily reminded herself, sharply, that she had to stall for time. Melissa and the others had to get inside, something that would become impossible if Fulvia knew they were there. And yet ... the only advantage to whatever she’d done to the rest of the family was that none of them were in any fit state to notice strangers. They might completely ignore the intruders until it was far too late.
“Fulvia,” she said, carefully. “What do you want?”
“An interesting question.” Fulvia beckoned Emily to walk closer. “What could I possibly want?”
Emily stayed where she was. “You attacked Whitehall and kidnapped a student. Right now, your position is untenable.”
The wards tightened around her, forcing her legs to move forward. Emily gritted her teeth as she was moved forward like a demented puppet, controlled by a child who didn’t know quite how her body was supposed to move. Fulvia smiled, cruelly, as Emily was manhandled by the wards, practically daring her to try to resist. But it would be futile.
“The game is not yet over,” Fulvia said, as Emily stopped below the dais. “I still rule the house.”
Emily looked up at her. “What have you done to them?”
“Lord Ashworth - the original Ashworth - keyed the wards to the family’s bloodline and tied them into the nexus point,” Fulvia said. “The matriarch can use the wards to ensure that the true bloodline can never turn on itself.”
And yet the Ashfalls managed to break away, Emily thought. She was surprised that Fulvia had even answered. She’d heard of blood magic being used to ensure that no one could betray the family, but nothing so ... extreme, nothing that would strip the rest of the family of their free will. How did they do it?
“The White Council knows about your attack on Whitehall,” she said, instead. “How long do you think you can hold this place against them?”
“As long as necessary,” Fulvia said. She shot Emily a sly look. “But the White Council doesn’t know, not yet. Gordian will sit on his hands until he can delay no longer.”
Emily felt her heart sink. “Are you sure?”
“Gordian is predictable,” Fulvia said. “And besides, if he tells the White Council the truth, he’ll lose his post. His career will never recover.”
“Perhaps,” Emily said. She knew Fulvia was right. Gordian wasn’t one of her cronies, but it didn’t matter as long as she could predict how he’d react. “Or perhaps he’ll swallow his
pride and alert them anyway.”
“He hasn’t yet,” Fulvia said, airily.
Emily shrugged. “Where is Frieda?”
“Safe, for now,” Fulvia said. “Of course, just how safe she remains depends on you.”
She cocked her head, studying Emily. “You’re a very interesting person, you know, and a bundle of contradictions. Daughter of one of the most powerful magicians in the world, but shy and retiring; defeater of three necromancers, yet nowhere near as assertive as I would have expected; heir to our society, but completely unaware of the social graces. Inviting us and the Ashfalls to the same party ... dear me! How could you?”
Emily felt her cheeks heat. “It was a mistake.”
“But a mistake you certainly should not have made,” Fulvia said. “And you certainly should not have allowed Melissa and that gigolo to fall in love.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” Emily said.
“You should have separated them,” Fulvia said. “After all, you couldn’t have known you’d be able to prevent a fight.”
“They are married,” Emily said. She remembered Melissa’s memories and smiled. “And they’re very much in love.”
“Bah,” Fulvia said. “And what happens when love fades?”
She met Emily’s eyes. “There’s a lot about you that makes no sense whatsoever,” she added, coolly. “You’re a genius, apparently; a genius in both magic and mechanical terms. And yet, you make some very basic mistakes. The sort of gaucheness I expect from a newborn magician or a commoner toiling in the mud. The only reason you’ve been allowed to get away with so much is because of what you’ve done.
“But here is a question, one that begs an answer. If you are strong enough to beat necromancers, why didn’t Grandmaster Hasdrubal send you out to finish off the others? Why didn’t you best Dua Kepala in the streets of Farrakhan, instead of invading Heart’s Eye to take him out later?”
Emily said nothing. She knew where Fulvia was going. Hell, Dua Kepala had asked the same question ... and he was a necromancer. Fulvia would hardly be the only person to have wondered why Emily hadn’t killed the other necromancers by now. It wouldn’t stop necromancy - the necromantic rite was far too easy to perform - but it would cut the threat down sharply. And why hadn’t she?
Graduation Day (Schooled in Magic Book 14) Page 35