Trial By Fire (Schooled in Magic Book 7)

by Christopher Nuttall

  “I understand,” Emily said. Lady Barb was forcing her to act or risk losing the joint project and having to redo Third Year as well as Fourth. “And thank you.”

  “You’re not the first girl to have problems with boys,” Lady Barb said, as Emily rose. “And Caleb isn’t the first boy to have problems with girls. Bear that in mind, perhaps, while you’re talking to him.”

  Emily nodded, walked out of the room and down the stairs towards the alchemy workrooms. A couple were open, occupied by other students conducting their joint projects; others were locked and sealed, heavily warded to keep out intruders. Emily wished, for a moment, that she could have done the project on her own, but pushed the thought aside. Teamwork wasn’t one of her strengths, yet she’d enjoyed working with Caleb. Lady Barb was right. It hadn’t been fair of him to ask her out before the project was finished, not when it would overshadow their work.

  She paused outside the door, uncertain if she wanted to take that final step. It would be easy, so easy, just to leave matters alone. Lady Barb would go to the Grandmaster and then...and then what? The project would have to be restarted from scratch, at best; Caleb would have to put up with a third co-worker. Or maybe it would be split between them...

  This is what Lady Barb meant, you fool, she told herself. Do you want her standing behind you with a whip?

  Bracing herself, she opened the door and stepped inside.

  Caleb sat on a stool, his head bowed over a piece of wood. His fingers seemed to work perfectly, she noted, as he carved out the rune for later use. He looked up as she entered, his eyes seemingly torn between wariness and relief that she’d finally come to him. It had to have looked worse to him, Emily realized, as she sat down on the other side of the table. God alone knew what had run through his mind after she’d fled.

  “Hi,” she said, nervously.

  “Hi,” Caleb said. He put the knife down, but held the piece of wood in his hand. “Emily...”

  Emily gathered her courage as best as she could and leaned forward. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said, softly. What did one say to a boy when you’d fled from him? “It was mine.”

  “I kissed you,” Caleb said. It struck her, suddenly, that he must have wondered what Void would have had to say about the whole affair. Kissing the daughter of a Lone Power had to rank beside taunting a necromancer as a fancy way to commit suicide. “It was my fault. My presumption.”

  “I had a bad experience when I was younger,” Emily said. Greatly daring, she reached over the table and grasped his hand in hers. His skin felt soft, yet somehow leathery when she ran her fingers over the scars. “It left me...untrusting of my own feelings. When you kissed me, I was so overwhelmed that I fled.”

  Caleb frowned. “My kiss did that to you?”

  “The memories did,” Emily said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “I feel guilty,” Caleb admitted.

  “I feel guilty for leaving you behind,” Emily countered. She also felt guilty over Frieda’s reaction, but that was something she would have to handle later. No doubt it would be an even more awkward conversation. “And for scaring you so badly.”

  “It wasn’t your fault either,” Caleb said. “I assure you, Casper would never have apologized for scaring me.”

  “I never had siblings,” Emily said. She knew from Imaiqah that having siblings could be good and bad in equal measure, but it wasn’t something she’d experienced for herself. Her life would not have been any easier, she thought, if she’d had half-sisters or brothers. “I shouldn’t have scared you so badly.”

  “I forgive you,” Caleb said. He sounded awkward. “Do you want to work on producing some more tiles?”

  Emily shook her head. “I’m not a very confident person,” she admitted. “I...”

  “You killed two necromancers,” Caleb said. “I don’t believe that anyone else has managed to kill more than one - and never in single combat.”

  “Everyone here knows I’m human,” Emily said. Jade, Cat and Travis had seen her in Martial Magic. They’d known she was grossly unprepared. Travis had even mocked her to her face after the first disastrous attempt to produce a battery. But that had been the Mimic...no matter; it had done what the real Travis would have done. “I hate it when people say I’m famous.”

  “You are,” Caleb pointed out, stiffly.

  Emily took the wood from his hand and placed it on the table. “It’s nearly dinnertime,” she said. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

  “I do need to make more tiles,” Caleb said. “And...”

  “You’re coming with me,” Emily said, firmly. She stood, then took Caleb’s hand and pulled him gently towards the door. He could have resisted, if he’d wanted to resist, but instead he just followed her outside, locking and warding the door behind them. “I don’t think I’ve shown you the mountains.”

  “I thought I’d seen enough of mountains after the first route march I did at Stronghold,” Caleb said. “It rained, and then it snowed, and then it rained again, and then...”

  Emily smiled. “It snowed?”

  “How did you guess?” Caleb asked. “Yes, it snowed. And snowed. And snowed...by the time we finally got back to the school, we looked like ice barbarians from the very far north.”

  “I’ve read about them,” Emily said. “Ice barbarians and Frost Giants; they’re real, aren’t they?”

  “Of course they’re real,” Caleb said, as they walked through the door and out into the sunlight. It wouldn’t be long before the sun started to set, but they could walk for some distance first. “One of them came to Stronghold once. He was easily three or four times the size of the tallest lout at Stronghold. I saw him pick up an entire table with one hand and hold it in the air.”

  Emily smiled, remembering the skeleton she’d seen in the Cairngorms. “What was he doing there?”

  “We were being taught how to fight them,” Caleb said. “They’re strong, but they’re not very fast.”

  “I see,” Emily said.

  She was surprised at her own daring as she led him up a path she knew, from her explorations with Jade, to be rarely used. She’d never had the sense that Jade was interested in her as more than a friend, which was probably why she hadn’t minded being alone with him. Now, with a boy she knew was interested, she found herself torn between a strange kind of anticipation and an even stranger fear.

  “I used to come up here just to be alone for a while,” Emily said. “I like having friends, but...”

  “They can be a pain at times,” Caleb agreed, gravely.

  Emily nodded as they reached the overhang and peered down at Whitehall. The school’s towers were glittering in the sunlight, a faint haze shimmering around the building. There was something about it that seemed odd, as if it wasn’t quite right. Emily stared at it, puzzled, and looked at Caleb. He didn’t seem aware that anything was different.

  “They might have been altering the wards,” Caleb said, when she raised the matter. “It isn’t uncommon for new discoveries to force them to change everything.”

  “Maybe,” Emily said. There was something about the sensation that made her uneasy, but she knew he was probably right. She put it out of her mind as she took one last look at the school, then turned to face him. “I...can I ask a favor?”

  “Of course,” Caleb said. “What would you like?”

  “Just stay still,” Emily said. She braced herself, fighting the same urge to avoid committing herself, to run for her life, and stepped up to him. He was taller than her, but not tall enough to make it impossible to kiss him. His lips felt warm and soft against hers. Her entire body quivered as he kissed her back.

  She wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him again. Her body tensed as his arms came up and gently enfolded her; she forced herself to relax as it became clear he wasn’t going to try to crush the life out of her, or draw her to him. She was suddenly very - very - aware of her body’s heartbeat as she kissed him one final time, then drew back.

&n
bsp; “We have to take things slowly,” she said. The urge to run was fading, but she knew it was still lurking at the back of her mind. “Is that all right?”

  “Yes,” Caleb said. “You’re worth waiting for.”

  They held hands as they walked back to Whitehall, then parted when they reached the entrance, Caleb heading to the dining hall while Emily went to her room. Her lips felt strange after kissing Caleb - how many times had they kissed? She could almost feel his lips against hers still as she stepped into the bedroom, where Imaiqah and Alassa were talking together in low voices. Imaiqah was still chewing her fingernails...

  “I see you had fun, eventually,” Imaiqah said. Alassa had obviously told her what had happened, at least in some detail. “How are you feeling now?”

  “Strange,” Emily said. She glanced into the mirror and froze. Her lips looked swollen, while her face was flushed. Anyone who’d seen her would know what she’d been doing. “I...”

  “It does fade,” Imaiqah said. She shared a look with Alassa. “What happened?”

  Emily blushed. “I’ll tell you later,” she promised. “Why are you chewing your fingernails?”

  Imaiqah looked down at her hands. “I...I just am,” she said. “Does it matter?”

  “I don’t know,” Emily said. It was odd for the normally neat and tidy Imaiqah to do anything as childish as sucking her fingers. “Does it?”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  IMAIQAH WASN’T THE ONLY PERSON ACTING oddly, Emily discovered over the next couple of days. Frieda seemed to be hiding from her, to the point of sneaking into the kitchens rather than eat at regular hours, while a handful of other younger students were showing signs of behaving weirdly in the corridors. Indeed, in the middle of Professor Thande’s practical class, Melissa threw an ingredient right across the room into Alassa’s wok, causing an explosion that burned through five of the six wards Professor Thande used to protect his students from their mistakes. Professor Thande lost his smile for the first time Emily could remember, at least since the attack on Whitehall; Melissa was sent to the Warden and a shaken class was dismissed early. By the time Tuesday afternoon rolled around, Emily almost welcomed Martial Magic. At least she knew it was going to be unpleasant.

  “Aloha, you are dismissed,” Master Grey said, once they entered the Armory. “Return here in an hour.”

  “Yes, sir,” Aloha said.

  You could have told her before she got dressed, Emily thought, darkly. They weren’t meant to wear their uniforms on the upper levels, for no reason that made sense to her. Or do you expect her to sit in the workroom and wait for you there?

  “Come with me,” Master Grey ordered. He turned on his heel and marched off without looking back. “Sergeant Miles tells me you know how to use a staff.”

  “Yes, sir,” Emily said. It had been several months since she’d last used one - it was dangerously easy to become dependent on wands or staffs - but she knew what she was doing. “My staff should be in the locker.”

  “No, it’s in the spellchamber,” Master Grey said. “I took the liberty of moving it for you.”

  Emily pursed her lips, but said nothing. It was quite obvious he was trying to get a rise out of her, or - perhaps - to provoke her into saying something that would get her yet another detention. If that was what he had in mind, he showed no sign of disappointment as he opened a stone door, revealing a spellchamber easily five or six times the size of the ones on the upper levels. A simple red circle was marked on the floor, reminding her of demon-summoning rituals she’d seen at Mountaintop; the walls were bare stone, without even a handful of runes to draw away excess magic. Her staff was resting on the table, a long wooden stave almost as tall as herself. She wrapped her hands around the staff and held it in the air.

  “If nothing else,” Sergeant Miles had said, years ago, “you can hit your opponent with it.”

  “You will stand in the circle,” Master Grey said. Emily looked at the red circle, then back at him. “Should you leave the circle without permission, you will be punished.”

  Emily gave him a sharp look. “Why don’t you stick my feet to the ground again?”

  “Because it would be pointless,” Master Grey said. He pointed to the circle, then smiled coldly. “And one demerit for cheek. You can work it off while Aloha does her time in the circle.”

  “Yes, sir,” Emily said. She walked across the red line, expecting to feel wards snapping into place around her, but nothing happened. It was just paint dabbed on the floor. “What do you want me to do now?”

  Master Grey peered at her. “I understand you had some basic dueling training in Mountaintop?”

  “Yes, sir,” Emily said.

  “Wait,” Master Grey ordered. He walked over to a second door and opened it, then ushered in a group of Third Years. Emily recognized a couple of them - they’d volunteered to assist in Lady Barb’s class - but the others were strangers to her. “This is the current line up for Defensive Magic, Third Year.”

  Emily swallowed. She had a nasty feeling she knew what was coming.

  “These youngsters are going to be hurling hexes at you,” Master Grey informed her. He swept his gaze over the younger students, who looked depressingly enthusiastic. “All you have to do is block their hexes. You are not, of course, allowed to hex them back. That would be bullying.”

  And nine on one isn’t? Emily thought. She knew more defensive spells - and probably had more raw power - than any of the Third Years, but nine on one was appallingly poor odds no matter how she looked at it. This is going to end badly. Very badly.

  Master Grey held up a silver whistle, and eyed the younger students icily. “I will blow this whistle,” he said. “When I do, you may start hexing; when I blow it a second time, you will stop. Anyone who fires off a hex after I blow the whistle to stop will feel the lash of both my tongue and belt. If any of you have a problem following these instructions, get out now and save time.”

  There was a long pause. Emily frantically hefted her staff, and started inputting defensive spells into the wood. If she’d had more time...the wards and hexes she’d placed around herself were strong, but they could be weakened by a sustained barrage of even minor hexes or curses...had he told them not to use curses? The thought sent chills down her spine. A hex might be embarrassing if it struck her unprotected body, but a curse might well be lethal.

  “Take aim,” Master Grey said, with a disturbing amount of enthusiasm. “And...”

  He blew the whistle. Emily ducked instinctively - a handful of hexes flashed over her head and spent themselves on the stone walls - and then lifted her staff to cast a handful of additional protective wards as the younger students lowered their aims. There were so many hexes darting towards her that dodging was probably futile. She might jump into the path of one hex while getting out of the way of another.

  The first handful of more accurate hexes spluttered against her wards; she swept them out of existence and cast a second set of defenses, relying on the staff more than she should. A wave of heat struck her as two hexes intermingled, then exploded in a flash of blinding light; she rubbed her eyes frantically as several more hexes scored hits against her personal protective wards. So far, it didn’t seem to have occurred to them to spread out and take her from all sides, but she had a feeling someone would think of it before Master Grey blew the whistle a second time. She altered her wards, reflecting a couple of greenish hexes back at the younger students and smiled in relief as they struck their targets. Both students turned into frogs.

  Should have thought to ward yourselves too, she thought, vindictively.

  “I thought you said she wasn’t allowed to hit back,” one of the Third Years protested.

  Master Grey gave him a clip round the ear. “She reflected your hexes back at you,” he said, nastily. The boy rubbed his ear, but had the wit not to argue further. “I didn’t tell her she couldn’t do that.”

  He kicked one of the frogs, sending it jumping right across the room. “
Next time, only use a spell you know how to counter,” he added. The second frog got out of the way before he too was hit. “Your enemy may use it against you.”

  Emily felt an odd burst of...something at his words. Master Grey could have jumped on her for deflecting the spells back at their casters, but instead he’d berated the student who’d complained. Maybe he’d left that loophole in there deliberately, to see if she’d make use of it; maybe he’d close it next time...she ducked a much stronger hex, almost a curse, then swore under her breath as the Third Years finally realized they should be spreading out. No matter how she twisted her wards, they were slowly being battered down by the sheer weight of hexes hitting them.

  She sucked in her breath, sharply, as she felt a stabbing pain in her chest. Someone had tried a compulsion hex, she realized, and only the rune she’d carved into her bare flesh had saved her. What had they tried to make her do? Another hex slammed home; she barely managed to counter it before it forced her to freeze in place. She deflected two more - she heard a scream as one of the Third Years was picked up and thrown against the wall - and then a final hex slammed into her staff. It blew out of her hands, leaving her momentarily defenseless. Three more hexes struck her and locked her solidly in place. Eerie flickers of magic pulsed around her, as if several different spells were trying to go to work...

  Master Grey blew the whistle. “Very well done,” he said, eyeing the Third Years. He was, Emily noted, careful to stay within her restricted field of vision. “I did notice, however, that several of you were struck by your own spells.”

  He pointed his fingers at a spot behind Emily, then clicked them. “You, in particular, were hit with a spell that went right through the circle, instead of being deflected,” he added. “If you’re going to be in a place where being hexed by your own side is a very real possibility, you should keep your own protective wards up. And, I should add, you should also consider releasing those on your side who have been hexed. Emily could have stopped most of you without ever firing off a hex of her own.”