Trial By Fire (Schooled in Magic Book 7)

by Christopher Nuttall

“You are dismissed,” he said, quietly. “I will see you on Thursday. Do not be late.”

  Emily nodded, then turned and hurried out of the office. Aloha followed her, her dark face glowing with excitement. She was happy, but it was hard for Emily not to feel a pang of jealousy, mixed with fear. If she’d been injured a dozen times with Sergeant Miles supervising, a man who liked her, who knew what would happen when Master Grey took the helm? She found herself breathing hard as the door closed behind them, as if she was on the verge of a panic attack. Why hadn’t anyone warned her?

  “Emily?” Aloha said. Her voice sounded tinny, as if it were coming from a far distance. “Emily? Are you all right?”

  “No,” Emily said. She felt sick...she swallowed hard, cursing the porridge she’d had for breakfast. Maybe she shouldn’t have eaten at all. “I...”

  Aloha caught her arm. “Do you want me to carry you to the infirmary?”

  “No,” Emily said, shaking her head violently. Hair spilled out of her neat ponytail and over her eyes. “I don’t. I...”

  “I should,” Aloha said. She half-pulled Emily into a sideroom, then closed the door firmly and erected a privacy ward. “Sit down and take several deep breaths.”

  Emily forced herself to calm down, trying to understand her feelings. Master Grey scared her...but so had Sergeant Harkin, once, and she’d never had such a reaction to him! Indeed, she’d almost come to think of the sergeant as a father figure before his untimely death. But Master Grey...she felt her body starting to shake again, no matter how hard she tried to calm herself and focus her thoughts. That damned Nightmare Hex had brought far too much bubbling out of the back of her mind.

  But you’re not scared of your stepfather any longer, she told herself. Why are you scared of Master Grey?

  “I need you to tell me what’s wrong,” Aloha said. The excited light was gone from her eyes, replaced by concern. “Tell me or I call Lady Barb.”

  “That’s not fair,” Emily muttered, resentfully.

  “All’s fair in love, war and magical research,” Aloha countered. She knelt down next to Emily and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “What happened in there?”

  “He hates me,” Emily confessed. It wasn’t something she wanted to talk about, but Aloha wasn’t giving her a choice. “He...he thinks I’m like...like my father.”

  “Quite a few people think that,” Aloha observed.

  “He hates me,” Emily repeated.

  “You certainly had quite a bad reaction to him,” Aloha agreed. “But I don’t think he actually hates you. Why would he have taken time out of his schedule to teach us if he hated you?”

  “Maybe he just wanted to teach you,” Emily said. She could understand why, too. Aloha was brilliant; she’d make a fine apprentice, then a mistress in her own right. Master Grey could really make something of her, if he wished. “Maybe the Grandmaster just insisted on adding me to the list.”

  Aloha snorted. “You’re the Necromancer’s Bane,” she said, sarcastically. “Who wouldn’t want a chance to call you their apprentice?”

  “I don’t know,” Emily said. Surely it could have been Sergeant Miles? Or Lady Barb? Or someone with no history with her at all? Why a man who hated the very ground she walked on, who considered her a national menace? “I...”

  She gritted her teeth, then forced herself to calm down. Her robes were drenched in sweat; she’d have to go back to the bedroom and shower before lunchtime, then Healing. There would be a chance to talk to Lady Barb afterwards, she was sure. Lady Barb was her Advisor, after all. She might be able to offer useful advice.

  “Emily,” Aloha said slowly, “I think you’re panicking over nothing. They wouldn’t have let him in the school if they thought he was dangerous.”

  “I know,” Emily said. “But I...”

  “I didn’t like Mistress Irene, either,” Aloha admitted. “She was too strict, too ready to resort to punishment if someone didn’t listen. But she taught me a great deal about how to do charms. Even now, I still dislike her, but she’s someone I can learn from.”

  Emily nodded in silent understanding. Aloha had worked for her genius, for the brilliance the tutors feted; she’d worked so hard, she’d been allowed to enter Martial Magic in her Second Year. Emily still shuddered at the thought of the argument they’d had, back when she’d been pushed into Martial Magic in her First Year. Aloha had threatened her with a fate worse than death if she let the side down. She hadn’t been the only one.

  “You can learn from Master Grey too,” Aloha added. “Even if he doesn’t like you, and he clearly has some doubts about you, you can still learn from him.”

  And if I don’t, Emily thought, you’ll be mad at me.

  She swallowed, then rose to her feet. “I’ll do my best,” she said, looking at the papers in her hand. She’d clenched her fist so hard that they were crumpled, almost torn, but they were still readable. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Aloha said. “Ever.”

  Chapter Eight

  EMILY STEPPED THROUGH THE DOOR INTO the Healing classroom and stopped dead as she took in the scene. Lady Barb had changed everything, again. Instead of the neat rows of chairs and tables, all facing the front of the class, the chairs and tables had been drawn into a circle, surrounding the central table. The walls were covered, once again, with drawings of human anatomy, while two skeletons hung from the ceiling. Emily eyed them nervously, remembering Shadye’s servants, but forced herself to relax. Lady Barb was hardly the kind of person to be experimenting with Death Magics.

  “Be seated,” Lady Barb ordered. She was seated behind a desk, wearing an expression of disapproval as she worked through her notes. She would have had the Second Years earlier, Emily recalled; boys and girls who were just trying her class before deciding if they wanted to commit themselves to a year of study. Half of them probably wouldn’t return after the first couple of days. “We have a lot of ground to cover and not much time.”

  Emily nodded - thankfully, Healing was her first and only class of the day - and took a seat in the middle of the room. Moments later, Alassa and Imaiqah hurried in, followed by the Gorgon and Melissa. Melissa sat at the opposite side of the room, not entirely to Emily’s surprise, although there seemed to be a new distance between her and her former cronies. They’d all come from magical families and, now that Melissa had been disowned, probably had orders not to remain her friend. Emily felt a brief stab of pity, then looked away. Melissa wouldn’t want anything from her, not when she already owed Emily so much.

  “Missed you at dinner,” Alassa said, softly. “Where were you?”

  “I ate first,” Emily said. She’d also showered and changed - and Alassa, who was more perceptive than most people gave her credit for, would probably have noticed her disheveled appearance after visiting the Grandmaster’s office. “Talk about it later, all right?”

  The classroom filled quickly, but there was plenty of room for everyone. Only a dozen students had stuck around to take Fourth Year Healing, even though Emily definitely recalled having twice that number in Third Year. It was the hardest course in Whitehall, though; it was quite possible that the other students had failed or had been advised to repeat Third Year before moving on to the next level. She opened her desk, retrieved the latest set of textbooks, and glanced at them while Lady Barb counted down the final moments. The books seemed to cover more advanced healing spells than anything she’d seen before, as well as a number of non-magical techniques.

  I wonder if I was the only one who went on walkabout after Second Year, Emily thought, looking at the class. Alassa and Imaiqah had gone back to Zangaria, the Gorgon to the desert...but what about the others? She’d been taken to the Cairngorms, so she could see the world and what might be required of a Healer; the others could easily have had the same experience, if in a different place. They might have tried to show us all what it was like to be a Healer.

  “Well,” Lady Barb said. She rose to her feet, a thin smile on her f
ace. “It’s the start of class and two people are missing?”

  Emily heard the sounds of running footsteps, then turned her head to stare as Tam and Penelope, their faces flushed, practically threw themselves through the door in an attempt to beat the clock. Lady Barb scowled at them, pointed a long finger at their chairs, and nodded at the door. It slammed closed and locked with an audible click.

  “For future reference,” she said, “the doors will be locked at the precise moment the class starts. Anyone who happens to arrive late, as I am sure I have told you before, can report to the Warden and then engage in private study. Repeated lateness will result in the person responsible being dismissed from the class. They will probably not be allowed to retake Healing next year.”

  She strode back to the table and stood, clasping her hands behind her back in a decidedly military manner. “The only reason I am being merciful now” - she threw Tam and Penelope a sharp glance that made them cringe - “is because I have a great deal of material to cover with you. By the end of this term, you will need to make choices and I, as your tutor, need to ensure you have the knowledge you need to make those choices.

  “Some of you will not study Healing after this year,” she continued. “You will be allowed to add Healing qualifications to your name, should you pass the exams, but you will not be ranked a full-fledged Healer. Those of you who do wish to move on to become a Healer will be expected to take the oaths at the start of Fifth Year, then spend two years preparing for an apprenticeship and another year - at least - as an apprentice, before being unleashed upon the world. I should remind you, in case you missed it when you read the briefing notes, that Healing oaths are permanent. You will still be bound by them even if you flunk out of Fifth Year.

  “The oaths will be administered by a Quorum of Healers who will visit Whitehall at the start of your Fifth Year. They will also ask you a number of searching questions while you are under the influence of various truth spells and potions. Should they find something that disqualifies you from becoming a Healer, they will refuse to consider you as a potential candidate. I am obliged to point out, for the record, that while confidentiality is included in the oaths, a person denied a chance to study will raise eyebrows.”

  People will start wondering why, Emily thought.

  Lady Barb opened a drawer and removed a handful of packets. “These contain an outline of the oaths, an outline of the questions they will ask you and details concerning your next two years of lessons, should you decide to continue,” she said, handing them out one by one. “It is no shame to decide you cannot go any further, but if you are unlikely to be accepted there is no point in going for the oaths. Read these papers now - I am required to certify you actually held them in your hands - and then ask any questions, should you wish to do so.”

  Because if we don’t read them, it’s our fault, Emily thought, as she opened the packet. There were only a handful of papers inside. You don’t get blamed for our stupidity, just for not giving us the option to learn.

  She pulled out the first page and skimmed it. It was a brief outline of the Fifth and Sixth Year Healing classes, covering topics from curse removal - she’d already done some curse removal - to mundane healing methods and surgery. It looked as though any prospective Healers would spend half of each week in class, or out on field trips. A number of items mentioned on the list were completely unfamiliar, although a couple did jog her memory. She resolved to use a memory charm to dig up the thought later, and moved on to the second paper.

  “I can’t qualify,” Alassa said. “I’m sworn to my father.”

  Emily nodded, scanning the second paper quickly. A prospective Healer had to separate himself from any formal obligations to his family, ranging from accepting debts and inheritances to carrying on a family feud. She couldn’t see many children from magical families accepting the oaths, unless there were plenty of potential replacements. Alassa, an only child, couldn’t abandon King Randor and Zangaria.

  “You can still complete this year,” Emily reminded her. She’d had only one year of training when she’d gone to the Cairngorms, but she’d managed to make herself useful. “It might be helpful in later life.”

  “I don’t think I’ll have time to minister to the ill,” Alassa said.

  “It might make you very popular,” Imaiqah said from the other side. “Helping...”

  Lady Barb cleared her throat. “Am I interrupting something?”

  Imaiqah, wisely, shook her head, and looked back at her packet. Emily smiled to herself and checked the third sheet of parchment. A Healer was sworn to do everything in his power to save lives, to forsake all debts that might otherwise have been incurred, not to take sides in political disputes, to keep the secrets of rich and poor alike...and not, under any circumstances, to use their powers for ill. The explanatory notes below the oath itself warned that a Healer could not kill, save in direct self-defense, and even then the oaths might kill them if there were any other options. Emily frowned, then looked up at Lady Barb. Surely she’d killed in the past and she was still alive...

  She shook her head, putting the question aside for later, and picked up the fourth sheet. It was crisp and clear, covering the questions that would be asked of any prospective candidate, starting with a warning that anyone who couldn’t give the proper answer would summarily be evicted from the class. Emily skimmed it and swore inwardly. The spells Aurelius had taught her, back in Mountaintop, would automatically disqualify her from taking the oaths, even though she’d never used them. Apparently, reading between the lines, she was only meant to learn them after taking the oaths.

  Because if I spent half my power in saving a life, the person I saved would owe me a considerable debt, she thought, numbly. Lady Barb was going to be disappointed, if she’d thought Emily would go on to be a Healer. She knew a spell that induced a form of cancer that killed within seconds, administered through bodily contact, and another that worked through sexual intercourse and did far worse than kill the victim outright. Those spells can be perverted far too easily.

  Lady Barb tapped the table, meaningfully. Emily jumped.

  “You should all have had a chance to read the important parts,” Lady Barb said. “Do you have any questions?”

  “Yes,” Tam said. “What happens if I decided to leave the course halfway through?”

  “You’d still be bound by the oaths,” Lady Barb said, curtly.

  Emily swallowed. Healers might do good, but they also lived very restricted lives. A Healer couldn’t do anything, apart from Healing. There could be no involvement in local politics, even something as minor as suggesting the introduction of proper sanitation or not taxing peasant villages so highly their inhabitants had far too little to eat. A Healer could fix the damage, if a wife was beaten into a bloody pulp, but not do anything to the husband, no matter his crimes.

  And if you took the oaths and then failed, she thought, you’d still be stuck.

  Lady Barb’s gaze swept the room. “A Healer can do great good - or great evil,” she warned, her voice softening slightly. “In order to learn how to heal, you have to learn how to kill; you have to learn how to inflict pain and suffering on the human body. Those oaths are the only thing preventing you from becoming monsters, should you become detached from the realities of life - and many Healers do. Once you start on this path, you will be committed.”

  She paused. “I won’t say it isn’t a rewarding life,” she added. “You will save countless people from injuries and curses that would prove fatal. You’ll watch as newborn children are brought into the world, children who would have died in the womb were it not for you. You will pass through a community, then leave, knowing that everyone behind you is healthier than they were when you arrived. Healers know the satisfaction of doing nothing but good.”

  Emily felt almost wistful, just for a moment, before dismissing the thought. It wasn’t something she’d want, not really; she’d enjoyed part of her time in the Cairngorms, but there had been too ma
ny horrors for her to be comfortable working their permanently. A Healer could heal, perhaps, yet he could do nothing about the cause of the problem. She could, if she didn’t take the oaths.

  “You will have your career sessions later in the month, I believe,” Lady Barb said. “By then, I expect you to decide if you want to go on to become a Healer or not. If you do, check and double-check the requirements, then take the forms with you to the career adviser. They will go through everything with you, then help you to apply. Regardless...”

  She looked from face to face before she continued. “This year, there will be more practical work than ever before,” she explained. “There will be field trips to both Dragon’s Den and the Halfway House, where some of the worst curse victims are housed while Healers search for a cure or a counter-curse. You will see some of the greatest horrors the human mind, armed with magic, is capable of producing. Some of you, I think, will be unable to tolerate the encounter, even under controlled conditions. I do not advise anyone who feels that way to try to continue to Fifth Year.”

  Emily nodded. That was understandable.

  “Those field trips will probably include only three or four of you at a time,” Lady Barb added, curtly. “While I’m gone, classes will be supervised by Mistress Kyla, Whitehall’s Healer. I suggest, very strongly, that you use the opportunity to question her about her job and the problems she faces here. I also suggest you don’t cause problems for her. She takes the post far more seriously than myself.

  “And that,” she concluded, “leads to a final point.

  “In Dragon’s Den, you will be assisting people who have volunteered to allow you to examine them. Pregnant women, giving birth; men who have injured themselves and require the services of a Healer to regain full use of their bodies; children born with deformities that make it impossible for them to have a normal life...they have all volunteered to be examined and worked on by you. We don’t charge anyone for the service, nor do we pay them.