Trial By Fire (Schooled in Magic Book 7)

by Christopher Nuttall

  Maybe they all ate something tainted with a curse, she thought, although she knew the wards wouldn’t allow anything genuinely dangerous - at least by the Nameless World’s standards - to harm the students. Or...

  She tensed as someone moved ahead of them, but relaxed when she saw Aloha. The older student smiled in cold delight, then tossed a spell at them both that froze her in place. Emily broken the spell, tried to jump backwards, just as Aloha hurled herself at her. But Emily was too late; Aloha slammed into her and sent her falling back, her head hitting the stone floor hard enough to make her see stars. Aloha was screaming something as she drew back her fists and pounded them into Emily’s chest and arms, but Emily could barely hear her. The pain was so great she could hardly focus her mind. Magic seemed to slip away rather than be called to her fingertips. Aloha cackled, lifted her fists and prepared to punch Emily in the face, then froze as a spell struck her. Emily was too disorientated to feel anything but relief at the sight of a tutor, even if it was Master Grey.

  “Lie still,” he snapped, kneeling beside her. “She was trying to kill you. Why?”

  He shook his head before Emily could say a word. “No, don’t try to talk,” he said, as he cast a pair of healing spells. Emily felt a dull warmth spreading through her body, but her thoughts still felt sluggish. “Let me heal you first.”

  It felt like hours before Emily could stand up. “I...she just attacked us,” she said. “Froze Frieda and attacked me.”

  “Odd,” Master Grey said. He waved a hand at Frieda, freeing her from the spell. “I would have expected her to use magic.”

  “She was screaming about competition,” Frieda said. “I think it was deeply personal for her.”

  Emily blinked. What competition?

  “Everyone seems to have gone mad,” Master Grey observed. He gave Emily a long, considering look, and levitated Aloha into the air. “I’ll take her to the Warden...”

  “I don’t think she was in her right mind,” Emily stammered. Her head still hurt, despite his spells. “No one seems to be in their right mind.”

  “She did attack you with murderous intent,” Master Grey pointed out. His face was artfully neutral. “Are you always so forgiving to your enemies?”

  “I don’t blame people for being compelled to do something,” Emily said, tartly. “And I’m sure something was making them all act badly.”

  “Is,” Master Grey corrected. “It’s still going on.”

  He sighed. “Go back to your room and stay there,” he ordered. “I dare say the tutors will be glad that you escaped...whatever it is.”

  Emily nodded and leaned on Frieda as they walked back into the dorms. Madame Beauregard was nowhere to be seen, but a shaken-looking Penelope was standing outside her door, while Talia stood next to her. Emily met their eyes, just long enough to check they were normal, opened the door to her room and ushered Frieda into the chamber. Imaiqah’s blood was still all over her bed, hopefully untouched. Emily wanted to clean it up, to dispose of the blood as she’d been taught, but she didn’t have the energy. Instead, she just collapsed onto her own bed.

  “I’ll take the floor,” Frieda said. Emily was almost relieved. They’d shared a bed before, but that would be embarrassing now. And Alassa would probably have hexed her bed to keep out unwanted strangers. “I’ve slept in worse places.”

  Emily wanted to argue, but sleep overwhelmed her before she could say a word.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  SHE JERKED AWAKE WHEN SHE HEARD someone opening the door, but smiled in relief when she saw Lady Barb. The blonde-haired woman looked tired and worn, her robes stained with blood and something that suggested a student - in a fit of suicidal madness - had thrown a stink-spell at her. Emily felt a moment of pity for the student before forcing herself to sit up and pour a glass of water. Her head felt fragile, as if the slightest word or blow would shatter her for good.

  Maybe it was a nightmare, she thought. But one look at Imaiqah’s bed told her that it had been all too real. Whatever happened, happened.

  “Emily,” Lady Barb said. “Are you all right?”

  “My head feels awful,” Emily said. She drank the water, poured herself another glass, and drank it too. “What happened?”

  “I wish I knew,” Lady Barb said. “Several hundred students went mad, it seems; some hurt themselves, some lost themselves in contemplating the meaning of life, and some attacked their fellow students. And now they’re all in comas. No one died, but it’s just a matter of time.”

  Emily swallowed. “There’s something wrong with the wards,” she said. “I could feel it.”

  “The wards aren’t attacking students,” Lady Barb said. She suddenly sounded very old. “I checked, Emily; I checked for spells, I checked for curses, I checked for potions, I checked for subtle magic. I found nothing.”

  “What about drugs?” Emily asked. “Something non-magical?”

  “That could be right,” Frieda said. “There were some boys back home who ate something they found in the forest and spent the next couple of days skipping merrily around like idiots.”

  “It would have shown up when I tested their blood, surely,” Lady Barb said. “At the very least, it would be a foreign element in their bodies.”

  Emily nodded, and glanced at her watch. Seven bells; they’d slept through the night and into the early morning. She stood and looked at herself. The robes she’d worn would need a wash before she could wear them again, if only to get rid of the bloodstains. Aloha’s beating had broken her skin.

  She was screaming about competition, Emily thought, dully. Did she think I was competing with her for Master Grey?

  Her stomach rumbled. “I need to eat,” she said. She’d stowed away a handful of ration bars in her trunk, but they weren’t very tasty. “Can we leave the dorms?”

  “I think so,” Lady Barb said. “If you happen to see anyone acting oddly, please let us know.”

  “They probably think I act oddly,” Emily muttered. She cleared her throat. “Maybe they’re ill.”

  Lady Barb gave her a murderous look. “Are you joking?”

  “No,” Emily said. She hadn’t been ill many times in her life, but she’d caught something when she was seven that had caused hallucinations. Or maybe that had just been the illness combined with the shortage of food. “If they caught something, maybe it made them act crazy.”

  “It would have shown up on the tests,” Lady Barb said, flatly. “Whatever happened to the victims, Emily, was beyond our ability to detect.”

  She turned and strode towards the door. “Get something to eat,” she ordered, without looking back. “Classes have been cancelled. The Grandmaster will address the student body later today.”

  Emily nodded, remembering the days when the Mimic had stalked the school, killing and replacing its victims one by one. Whatever was loose now, at least it wasn’t a Mimic. But they knew how to deal with Mimics now. She gritted her teeth, as she watched the older woman leave the room. Frieda stood up beside her, looking pale. It struck Emily, suddenly, that most of her friends were victims.

  “I think I have something you can wear,” she said. Imaiqah had insisted she buy the adjustable dress in First Year, even though it was uncomfortable; it was charmed to extend or shrink depending on who wore it. “But I need a shower first.”

  “So do I,” Frieda said. She paused. “Do you want to go first?”

  “You go,” Emily said, feeling her cheeks heat. “I’ll dig up the dress for you and leave it on my desk.”

  She undressed as soon as Frieda had stepped into the shower, then carefully removed the blood from her clothes using a simple charm. The blood splashed onto the floor, allowing her to break the link between it and her body before turning it into dust. Wrapping a robe around herself, she did the same for Imaiqah’s blood, knowing her friend was in no condition to do it for herself. By the time Frieda emerged from the shower, Emily had cleaned up all the blood and was feeling dirty and grimy.


  “I can finish cleaning up, if you like,” Frieda offered, as she took the adjustable dress and pulled it over her head. “Would you like me to?”

  “Leave it,” Emily said. “They’ve probably charmed their beds against intruders.”

  Frieda nodded - she’d been at Mountaintop, where protective wards were necessary - and waited patiently for Emily to shower. Emily checked herself in the mirror as soon as she stepped into the shower - Aloha had left her covered in bruises that Master Grey had been unwilling or unable to remove - and then washed herself, thoroughly. She pulled a clean robe over her head and walked back into the room. Frieda was reading a book Imaiqah had borrowed from the library, slowly parsing out some of the more complex words.

  “I’m thinking of trying to apply for Advanced Alchemy in Third Year,” she said, as Emily opened the door and glanced around warily. “Would you support me, if I did?”

  “Professor Thande would have to make the final call,” Emily said. She doubted her support would matter one whit to the Alchemy Tutor. “Do you think you could handle the coursework?”

  “I think so,” Frieda said. “Alchemy is great fun if you get everything right.”

  Emily smiled - alchemy had never been her favorite subject - but tension filled her as they walked into the corridors. A handful of other students, all looking as shell-shocked as Emily felt, walked towards the Dining Hall, watched by a pair of grim-faced tutors. Emily couldn’t help noticing that Sergeant Miles was wearing his armor as he paced outside the Dining Hall, as if he expected trouble.

  He was probably right.

  “Emily,” he said, as they reached the door. “Report to Master Grey after the Grandmaster’s speech.”

  “Yes, Sergeant,” Emily said, tiredly. Master Grey had saved her life yesterday, but he would probably be extra-nasty just to make up for it. He would have found it easy to delay saving Emily until Aloha had smashed her face to a bloody pulp. “Do you know where he’ll be?”

  “Probably in the Armory,” Sergeant Miles said. “I believe he was up half the night, trying to assist the victims.”

  Emily nodded - she didn’t really want to think well of Master Grey - and stepped into the Dining Hall. It was very quiet. Only forty or so students were eating; the servants had placed large bowls of porridge on the tables and let the students take what they wanted. Emily took a bowl, filling it with porridge and raisins. She’d need the energy if Master Grey was going to be giving her private lessons.

  “If classes have been cancelled,” Frieda said, “what am I meant to do?”

  “Go to the library and study,” Emily said. She would have liked company when she was facing Master Grey, but she knew Frieda couldn’t accompany her. “That’s what we did when classes were cancelled the last time.”

  “Oh,” Frieda said. She tensed, suddenly. “Here’s someone I didn’t want to meet.”

  Emily looked up, but smiled in relief as she saw Caleb. “Are you all right?”

  “I was going to ask you the same question,” Caleb said. “Nothing seemed to be wrong until I walked into a pair of Fifth Years bawling like children.”

  “They probably just failed their exams,” Frieda said, darkly.

  Emily elbowed her, sharply.

  “Then one of them tried to commit suicide,” Caleb said, giving Frieda a dirty look. “I had to freeze him to get him to stop.”

  Emily winced. Suicide was taboo in the Nameless World; it was, quite literally, considered grounds for the death penalty. She’d never quite understood why. Mainstream religions on Earth had told everyone for years that those who commit suicide went to hell, but other religions had believed that suicide, under the right circumstances, was an honorable act. It made very little sense to her. The poor boy was likely to face scrutiny for the rest of his life.

  “You saved him, at least,” she said. She wanted to kiss him, but it would have been cruel with Frieda right there. “That’s something.”

  “So I’ve been told,” Caleb agreed. “I’ve also been told to report to the Alchemy Classroom after breakfast to assist in brewing potions that may help the victims.”

  “My sympathies,” Emily said, dryly.

  Caleb looked down at his hands. “You suggested I should keep working my way through alchemy,” he said. “But my hands shake badly if the potion is likely to explode.”

  “I think it’s not a physical problem,” Emily said. Caleb’s hands didn’t shake when he was carving wood, or even when he was holding her. “You’re psychologically scarred by the explosion that almost killed you and it’s made you reluctant to risk a second explosion.”

  Frieda opened her mouth, as if she were about to say something, then shut it as the remaining students entered the Dining Hall. Emily looked up and winced at the faces, the hopelessness and helplessness that came from watching their friends attacked by something they could neither comprehend nor fight. She thought frantically, trying to think of something that could be a cause, but nothing she considered would have been overlooked by Lady Barb and the Grandmaster. And, although she hated to admit it, by Master Grey. The asshole had earned his reputation the hard way.

  She glanced towards the head of the room as the Grandmaster cleared his throat. He looked badly worried, although he still looked formidable. Emily felt a chill run down her spine as she sensed the magic bubbling around him, then another chill as she realized that, for all his knowledge, the Grandmaster was as helpless as she was. His students were at risk, and he could do nothing. At least they’d had a plan to deal with the Mimic...

  And that plan failed, Emily recalled. Who would have thought the Mimic would have gladly remained in captivity, rather than being held prisoner by the wards? But when it had been challenged, it had snapped the wards as if they were made of taffy. We don’t even know what we’re fighting now.

  “I will not mince words,” the Grandmaster said. “Three hundred students have sunk into comas. Most of them come from First and Second Year; a relative handful comes from the years above them. Nothing we have done has been able to wake them. All we can really say about the effect, whatever it is, is that it is attacking students through their magic.”

  He paused. Silence echoed around the hall.

  “We are currently talking to experts across the Allied Lands,” he continued, after a long moment. “We will find out what is happening to them and we will manage to deal with it. I have faith that we will solve the puzzle.”

  Before they die, Emily thought.

  “For the moment, regular classes have been cancelled,” the Grandmaster said. “Those of you tapped for specific duties have already been informed, so carry them out. The rest of you can go to independent study. I strongly advise you to refrain from doing anything that will disturb the school further. Anyone caught fighting in the corridors or playing practical jokes will regret it. I should also warn you” - his hidden eyes seemed to sweep the room - “that leaving Whitehall without special permission is currently forbidden. You may not pass beyond the outer edge of the wards. Do not try our patience on this, please.”

  Emily nodded. If the problem was caused by a disease, an epidemic, allowing Whitehall’s students to mingle with the rest of the world would be asking for trouble. Hell, perhaps it was an epidemic. If a curse could be designed to conceal itself from detection spells, why not a magic-based epidemic? And someone could easily have altered a harmless disease and turned it into a weapon.

  She shivered at the thought. Biological warfare, according to the books, wasn’t unknown in the Allied Lands. Dropping dead bodies into wells was a common trick...and Healers knew enough to create a genuinely dangerous disease through magic. It was one of the reasons for the Healer Oaths, but she knew that such expertise hadn’t remained hidden behind the oaths for long, if indeed it had stayed there at all. She knew enough forbidden spells to make a start on creating a disease...

  And combined with what I know from Earth, I could make a really dangerous one, she thought. One that no one here w
ould be able to stop.

  “Finish your breakfasts, then go,” the Grandmaster concluded. “If you notice anyone else acting strangely, inform a staff member as soon as possible.”

  He sat down and dug into his porridge with every evidence of enjoyment. Emily blinked in surprise, then realized he was trying to suggest that he felt calm and confident. She didn’t think it was actually working, not when he’d admitted that the disease - if it was a disease - was attacking people through their magic. He couldn’t have alarmed his students more if he’d told them that necromancy had suddenly been declared legal and that they would be expected to draw lots to become the first necromancers.

  “Anyone acting strangely,” Caleb said. “In Whitehall?”

  Emily had to smile. “Anything that’s out of the ordinary for us would be worrying,” she agreed. “I...”

  She broke off as Lady Barb strode over to the table. “The Grandmaster would like to see you as soon as you have finished breakfast,” she said. “You can meet him in the Great Hall.”

  “I will,” Emily said. She frowned, nervously. “But I have to report to Master Grey.”

  “The Grandmaster comes first,” Lady Barb informed her. “Tell Master Grey, when you get to him, that you were summoned.”

  Emily nodded, finished her breakfast and encouraged Frieda to go to the library. She might have been more use in the alchemy classrooms, but she had a feeling that Caleb and Frieda weren’t going to get on in her absence. As soon as the younger girl had headed off, she walked through the corridors and into the Great Hall. It was crammed with makeshift beds, each one holding a student trapped in a coma. Emily shuddered when she saw one of the bodies twitching, as if it were having a nightmare. It would have been easy to believe that most of the students in the room were dead.