“That’s impossible,” Emily said. “I wasn’t even born on this world.”
Void raised a single eyebrow. “And how many of them actually know it?”
“None,” Emily said. Only a handful of people knew the truth. “But they can’t believe...”
“It’s been over two centuries,” Void said. “It’s possible you might be an heir, without ever knowing it. There’s never been any shortage of rumors about farmer boys awakening to a great destiny or girls discovering they were actually the daughters of noblemen, placed with foster families to keep them safe from their enemies. No one who knows where you come from would believe it, of course, but none of them do. And they’d wonder if I’d fostered you to protect you from all the kings and patriarchies who have a vested interest in preventing the return of a true heir.”
Emily shook her head. “I don’t want to rule.”
“Emily, there aren’t many people who’d believe that.” Void shot her a sharp look. “Everyone wants power. Everyone wants to secure their position. Everyone wants to ensure they have something they can hand down to their children and grandchildren. You tell them you don’t want to rule and they’ll think you’re lying. The idea that someone might not want to take power for themselves is beyond them.”
He looked down at his hands. “Right now, the situation is in flux. Half the world is just waiting for someone to cough so they can take it as a sign to start something violent. And it is my considered opinion, as your master and teacher, that you would be better off staying out of it. Getting involved would make you a lightning rod and draw the ire of all parties.”
Emily stared at him. “I can’t,” she said. “Lady Barb asked me to...”
“You don’t owe her anything,” Void said, sharply. “And she—”
“I do,” Emily interrupted. “She’s done so much for me, over the years. She... she’s been a better mother than my real mother ever was. I can’t sit here and do nothing when she needs my help.”
“There are others who could investigate,” Void said. He scowled at the papers she’d placed on his desk. “Other places they could hold the conference too, if they wished. Emily, they could simply shut down the school long enough to hold the conference, if they think the students are likely to be little” - his lips quirked - “witches. You’re not needed.”
“Lady Barb asked me, specifically,” Emily said. “She needs me.”
“And she chose to ask you indirectly, circumventing me,” Void said. “What does that tell you about her?”
Emily felt frustrated. “That she thought you wouldn’t pass on the request?”
Void’s face went blank, a sure sign he was angry. “Emily, the more you involve yourself in politics, the harder it will be to protect you. You are no longer a student at Whitehall, protected by my brother. You are a grown woman with a reputation that cuts both ways. Some love you. Some fear you. Some see you as a challenge to be overcome. Lady Barb should know - she does know - that she’s asking you to jump into a hurricane. Laughter is not friendly territory to you, or any other reformer. Sending you there... this is not a simple request. This is a request you involve yourself in politics to the point...”
“Lady Barb would not send me into danger,” Emily snapped, interrupting. Void hadn’t protested so much when Master Lucknow had led her off to war, even though she’d had to fulfil her oath to the Unseelie. “She needs...”
“She’s already taken you into danger,” Void pointed out. “Your little trip to the Cairngorms could have ended very badly. And she’s allowed others to send you into danger, too.”
Emily glared. “And you’re the one who sent me to Dragora and all the other little tasks you had me perform for you. You let me go off to war...”
“It is part of my duties to protect you,” Void said, cutting her off. “I am not required to coddle you. I set you tasks that would challenge you, but tasks I was sure you could handle... growing stronger and more capable in the process. Lady Barb is sending you into a whirlwind that could easily consume you, if things go terribly wrong, or smear your reputation. School politics are not your forte, Emily, and you’re really too young to take on any sort of teaching role. I should not let you go.”
“She needs me,” Emily said. She braced herself, feeling caught between her two parental figures, and pushed on. “She... helped me. She taught me. She saved my life, more than once; she told me things that would have otherwise blindsided me. I owe her and I owe Sergeant Miles. He deserves better than to be lingering on the verge of madness, madness caused by one of my innovations.”
“Yes, he does,” Void agreed, pensively. “So few people get what they deserve.”
“I have to go,” Emily said. “I... I understand your concerns. I want to resume my studies, too. But I’m not going to leave Lady Barb stranded...”
“She isn’t stranded,” Void said. “There are other people she could send in her place. She doesn’t even have to go herself, if you refuse. No one will fault her for taking care of her lover.”
“She’ll fault herself,” Emily said. “And it’ll gnaw at her until the day she dies.”
“And you want to put yourself into danger to save her from the guilt,” Void said, quietly. “Emily, you are not responsible for everything. Whatever is happening at Laughter, it isn’t your concern.”
“It is, because I owe her,” Emily insisted. “She deserves better, too.”
Void said nothing for a long, chilling moment. “And if I told you that, if you left now, you could not return?”
Emily studied him. “Are you going to tell me that I cannot return?”
She gritted her teeth. She wanted to resume her studies. The thought of being unable to return was terrifying. And yet, she couldn’t ignore Lady Barb’s request. She owed the older woman too much. And... she met his eyes, wondering what would happen if she gave in to emotional blackmail. She’d met too many people who used it to have any doubts about the outcome. She’d be blackmailed again and again until she couldn’t take it anymore.
You’re being paranoid, she told herself. He has a right to be concerned.
“No,” Void said. He stood. “However, I expect you to be careful. I cannot accompany you to Laughter, Emily, and I cannot send Silent with you. Servants are not welcome within the school. She could take up residence in the town, but she wouldn’t be with you.”
“I’m sure she’d welcome the break,” Emily said. She hadn’t intended to take anyone with her. “She can go see her family.”
“If she wishes.” Void sounded indifferent. “Like I said, be careful. Stay out of politics as much as possible. Laughter tries to maintain some distance between itself and the White Council, but the school cannot afford to ignore politics completely. Like Whitehall, what happens within its wards can and does affect matters a long way from the school. Don’t let the academics drag you into their petty feuds. Go in, solve their problem and get out.”
He made a face. “And try not to get too involved in the school itself,” he added. “You don’t have the maturity, not yet, to understand the importance of detachment.”
Emily felt stung. “I am mature.”
“Having to say you’re mature is proof you’re not,” Void teased. “And you will find it very hard not to revert to old habits, once you’re back in a school. I knew someone who graduated from Whitehall and remained as a teacher, without taking the time to get any real-life experience. He was a boy in an adult’s body, to the point he simply couldn’t be a reasonable teacher. I have no idea why he wasn’t summarily fired after the first incident or two. It wasn’t until my brother took the reins that he was finally given the boot.”
“Ouch,” Emily said. “What happened?”
“It’s impossible to be both an effective father-figure and, at the same time, one of the boys,” Void said, curtly. “He got involved in petty student disputes, practically pretending to be a student himself while wielding the authority of a teacher; he flirted with female stud
ents, perhaps even seducing them, while...”
Emily felt sick. “And the previous Grandmaster let it happen?”
“I don’t know what was going through that Grandmaster’s head,” Void told her. “The student never really grew up, at least until it was too late. Point is, he simply failed to keep a distance between himself and the students. He saw the boys as his friends and enemies and the girls as potential conquests. I think he wasn’t mature enough to understand what he was doing or why it was wrong. Perhaps that’s why the old Grandmaster tolerated it. My brother was made of sterner stuff.”
“Good for him,” Emily said. “I wouldn’t...”
“It can be very easy to blur the line,” Void warned. “And the effects are never good.”
He grimaced. “Really, you got a lot of special treatment. Sergeant Miles took you as a temporary apprentice, Lady Barb treated you as a daughter, the Grandmaster didn’t expel you when - technically - he should have done... even Gordian, the indecisive man, didn’t come down on you like a ton of bricks. And I’d be surprised if some of your former classmates didn’t resent it.”
“Jacqui certainly did,” Emily said, with a shiver. Her former nemesis had come within a hairsbreadth of killing her - or worse. She’d never seen Jacqui as a real threat until it was almost too late. “If there are others...”
“I wouldn’t waste time worrying about it,” Void said. “Go write a letter to Lady Duchene to inform her you’ll be on your way, then pack a bag. Don’t take too much. They’ll provide clothes and everything else you might need. Make sure you don’t take anything on the forbidden list. And then you can study until dinnertime.”
Emily nodded and glanced at her watch. It was late afternoon. She should have enough time to pack, then study the letters before joining Void for dinner and heading to bed. She made a mental note to check time zones before she slept, just to make sure she avoided teleport lag as much as possible. There were spells and potions that were supposed to help magicians cope, but she’d never liked them. The side effects tended to be unpleasant.
“Thank you,” she said. She leaned forward and gave him a hug. “It means a lot to me.”
“Thank me later,” Void said, curtly. He hadn’t returned the hug. “I don’t think I’ve done you any favors.”
Emily nodded, then released him and turned to leave. She could feel him watching as she walked through the door, closing it behind her. He had every right to be displeased, she acknowledged quietly; he had every right to tell her she couldn’t go... she wondered, sourly, what would have happened if she’d sworn the normal oaths. Would she have been compelled to obey? Would he have been compelled to protect her, even against her will? She allowed herself a flicker of relief as she reached her chambers. She wasn’t sure what she would have done if Void had told her she had to choose between helping Lady Barb and keeping the apprenticeship.
I’m not the only one being held back, she reminded herself. Jan is in the same boat, too.
She smiled - she’d enjoyed the afternoon with Jan, even if they had been interrupted at an awkward moment - then sat down to read the papers for the second time. Lady Barb hadn’t missed a trick. She’d attached copies of everything from the school prospectus to reports written by former pupils, including Penny. Emily skimmed them, then wrote a handful of notes. It wouldn’t be easy to get a letter to Lady Damia in time to arrange a meeting, but the postage service claimed it could be done. She’d just have to go down to the town tomorrow to make sure she got a reply.
Or just go to the school anyway, she thought. It wasn’t something she’d normally do, but... it might be interesting. I wonder what they’ll make of me.
There was a knock on the door. Emily opened it with a quick spell. Silent stepped inside, carrying a handful of books and scrolls. Emily felt her heart sink as she realized there wouldn’t be anywhere near enough time to read them all, not before she had to go. Silent took the letter Emily offered her, then left as quietly as she’d come. Emily wondered if the maid knew, yet, that she’d be getting a paid break. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as much of a relief as Emily thought. Compared to some of the royal brats she’d met over the years, Emily was very low maintenance indeed.
She smiled at the thought, then started to pack. That was something that would normally be left to the maids, but Emily had always preferred doing it herself. She packed a couple of simple dresses and a small collection of underwear, then a pair of trousers and shirts. She’d wear her cloak as she walked up to the town, then go to the school. She wasn’t sure what the dress code would be like inside the school - the prospectus hadn’t said anything about what teachers were meant to wear - but she had a feeling she’d find out when she arrived. The school probably had arrangements with local seamstresses. Whitehall had a highly profitable arrangement with tailors in Dragon’s Den. It had never failed to both amuse and irritate her in equal measure.
Picking up a charged battery, she placed it inside the bag and then tied it closed with a charm. It wasn’t completely secure - Void could break the spells, she was sure - but it would be very hard to put the charms back together afterwards without alerting her. There weren’t many magicians who’d be able to parse out the little kinks in the spellwork, not when the mere act of looking would change things. She’d know if someone had been through her stuff...
I hope, she thought, as she turned and headed for the door. But I’m not bringing anything incriminating anyway.
Chapter Six
THE AIR WAS FRESH AND CLEAR, yet bitingly cold. Emily took a long breath as the remnants of the teleport spell faded, lifting her head to peer towards the Howling Peaks. The mountains looked oddly crooked, as if they’d been shaped by forces beyond her comprehension. A castle sat on top of the nearest mountain, somehow dominating the surrounding terrain even though it looked remarkably small for a magic school. It was probably an illusion, she decided, as her eyes tracked the road leading into the mountains. Lady Barb’s teleport coordinates had placed her at the bottom, just above a mid-sized city. It made sense, Emily decided. One couldn’t get a sense of the sheer vastness of the landscape if one didn’t walk up to Pendle itself.
She gazed at the mountains for a long moment. They looked less challenging than the mountains near Whitehall, although there was something intimidating about them that sent a shiver down her spine. The hills were covered in dark green trees - evergreen trees, she guessed - that seemed so tightly bunched together that it was difficult to believe anyone could walk through them. And yet, people clearly had. She could spot a handful of huts on the mountainside, surrounded by white flecks that were almost certainly sheep. It would be a lonely life, but she could see the attractions. The shepherds would be able to keep their distance from the rest of the world.
Shaking her head, she slung her bag over her shoulder and started to walk. The air seemed to grow warmer as she headed up the road, although it was still strikingly cold. She pulled her cloak around her, remembering the days when the sergeants had made their students run endless laps around the field just to warm up. Her heart twisted as she realized Sergeant Miles might have to take early retirement if he couldn’t fight his way back to normal. She’d seen him take a hell of a lot of damage and keep going. The thought of being brought down by a threat he couldn’t fight...
Maybe I can find him a place at Heart’s Eye or Cockatrice, she thought, although she knew Sergeant Miles wouldn’t want charity from her. He might not be allowed to teach at the university, if his sanity was impaired, but... there’d be something for him to do. Surely. I can find a way to present it that doesn’t feel like charity.
She put the thought out of her head as the road grew steeper. It was in astonishingly good condition - most roads in mountainous regions were poorly maintained, if only to deter taxmen - but she still found it hard going as it wove its way into the mountains. She forced herself to keep going, sensing flickers of magic and life darting through the air. Insects hummed around her, birds flew overhead... it
wasn’t uncommon to see dragons in the mountains, even the mountains fairly close to human habitations, but she couldn’t see any resting on the peaks. She guessed they didn’t want to fly too close to the school. If there was anywhere likely to prove dangerous to an adult dragon, it was a school of magic.
The view sharpened as she rounded a corner and found herself staring up at the school. It seemed larger now, its previous smallness a trick of the light. She could see another castle on the next peak, a ruin that looked to have come right out of a horror movie. The prospectus claimed the ruined castle was part of the school, but it hadn’t said much about what had happened to the building. Perhaps a dragon had attacked it. She couldn’t think of much else, at least in the days before gunpowder, that could have shattered a castle. The necromancers had never come so far from the Blighted Lands.
Odd they never rebuilt it, she mused. It wouldn’t be easy to repair the damage, but she’d seen castles built in worse places. Why didn’t they?
Emily paused to rest, kicking herself for not thinking to bring water. She should have known. Sergeant Miles would say sharp things to her... she wished, suddenly, that he could say sharp things to her. It would be a sign he was getting better... perhaps. She brushed sweat from her forehead, then resumed the walk. The risks of teleporting the rest of the way were just too great...
She froze as she saw bats swarming around the castle. Bats? She stared, then muttered a spell to sharpen her eyesight. They weren’t bats; they were flying girls. Emily stared, shocked. A single spell would be more than enough to send the witches plunging to their deaths. And yet, they glided through the air with the greatest of ease. She felt an odd flicker of envy, mingled with fear. Penny had told her that the unknown intruder had screwed up the flying display, injuring dozens of students and guests. It would be easy, so easy, to bring the flock of witches crashing down.
Little Witches (Schooled In Magic Book 21) Page 6