Little Witches (Schooled In Magic Book 21)

by Christopher G. Nuttall

  Lillian giggled. “What’s to stop them sending out pictures?”

  “They’d have to paint your portrait first,” Emily said. It would be a long time before the Nameless World invented even very basic cameras. “And there’s a good chance the painting would look nothing like you. There are paintings of me that don’t even get the hair color right, paintings that make it look as if I’m going to topple over when I start walking. And even if they manage to do that, what’s to stop you changing your hair color? Or skin color? Or something - anything - else?”

  She shrugged. “If you left the school after graduation, and if you left the country and stayed away from the magical communities, they’d never find you. You could build a life for yourself well away from them.”

  And if you went to Heart’s Eye, Emily added silently, Caleb would take care of you.

  Lillian smiled. Emily understood, better than she cared to admit. It was easy to believe the world was a very small place. Lillian was a commoner. She might not have so much as left her hometown before her magic had been discovered and she’d been sent to Laughter. The idea of travelling halfway around the known world would be alien to her. Emily had felt the same way too, once upon a time. It was hard to grasp the true size of the world unless one spent time in it. Too many magicians merely teleported or used portals to get from place to place.

  “Thank you.” Lillian curtsied. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

  “There’s a future for everyone,” Emily said. “And I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Lillian turned and left, leaving Emily to her thoughts. Was there a connection between the intruder and the current problems? It was hard to believe it would take four years for the issue to surface. What was causing it? Long-buried mental programming? If Lillian had been a firstie when the intruder had infiltrated the school, Dionne and the rest would have been firsties too. And it had been Dionne and her fellows who’d challenged her in Pendle...

  She looked up as Lady Damia stepped into the room. “Feeling better?”

  “Just a little,” Emily said. She felt a lot better. It felt as if she’d actually accomplished something. “I heard there was an intruder, four years ago. What happened?”

  Damia grimaced as she sat down. “There’s nothing I can add to the official report. The intruder took Nadine’s place, just before she entered the school. She passed as a student long enough to sabotage the flying display, causing a bunch of injuries, and then fled before she could be caught. There was no obvious motivation, nothing stolen... it’s possible there was a political motive, but the intruder went to a great deal of trouble. We still don’t know who she was, let alone why she did it. It remains a mystery.”

  “A mystery that needs to be solved,” Emily said. “Did she plant subliminal commands in the girls? The ones who were firsties at the time?”

  “It was considered,” Damia said. “She certainly managed to manipulate both Penny and Lillian, the former with a spell that weakened her mental defenses. However, there were no traces of any long-term programming. We went through their minds very carefully.”

  “The other girls could have been manipulated, too,” Emily pointed out.

  “There was no reason to assume so,” Damia said. “It is rare for a fifth-year student to hang around with firsties. We traced her movements, as best as we could, and determined she didn’t have the opportunity to do anything to anyone beyond Penny, who shared a room with her, and Lillian. Lillian was manipulated, but it wasn’t magical.”

  “And nothing was stolen,” Emily said. “Or is that just the official story?”

  “The day I write a lie into the reports, Lady Emily, is the day I walk off a cliff,” Damia said, harshly. “Nothing was stolen. Our best guess is that someone wanted to embarrass the school. If that was the case, they succeeded.”

  Emily nodded, realizing her mistake. “I’m sorry.”

  Damia gave her a sharp look. “So you should be.”

  “It still makes no sense,” Emily said. “It just...”

  She frowned. There was something about the affair that bothered her. Damia was right. The intruder had gone to a lot of trouble. No one would do that unless they expected to gain something from it. But what? Nadine of Hightower had enemies, yet most of them wouldn’t risk picking a fight with a magical school. Penny and Lillian were unimportant. Why would someone go to so much trouble to embarrass them? There were easier and safer ways to humiliate two students without risking total disaster.

  “I’ll read the report,” she said. “And perhaps write to Penny and ask her for her input.”

  “That’s at your discretion,” Lady Damia said. “On a different note, you will be taking flying lessons with Nadine this weekend. She’ll let you know the time. I trust that won’t be a problem?”

  Emily raised her eyebrows. “The same Nadine?”

  “The very same,” Damia said. Her eyes hardened. “I do trust that won’t be a problem?”

  “No,” Emily said. She’d never met Nadine. She’d heard of her, from Alassa, but... they’d never had any contact. She wasn’t worried about her. “Why would it be a problem?”

  “She requested, and was granted, asylum after her father’s death,” Damia explained. “You’re a liegewoman of the Queen of Zangaria. Are you not?”

  “I’m Alassa’s friend, yes,” Emily said.

  “Only a liegewoman would say something like that.” Damia sneered. “Do you have any orders regarding Nadine?”

  Emily bit down on her irritation. “No,” she said. “Alassa has shown no interest in Nadine.”

  “Good,” Damia said. “Please make sure it stays that way.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  EMILY HAD NEVER BEEN SO GLAD to rise from her bed in the certain knowledge it was the weekend. She’d never realized just how much work went into teaching, even when the teacher knew the subject from beginning to end. She had to plan lessons on the assumption that half of the students hadn’t read the textbooks, let alone actually thought about what they were doing. It was impossible to assume any sort of shared understanding of the material. It wasn’t entirely unrewarding, she conceded as she washed, dressed and headed down to breakfast, but it required a very special mindset to actually make it work.

  It would be harder if I was teaching a less practical subject, she thought. Defense, charms and alchemy didn’t leave much room for mischief. A student had to master the practicals if they wanted to pass the exams. History and a few other classes, with much less practical work, weren’t so easy to teach. It only took a couple of students to ruin things for everyone else. Brier really does have her work cut out for her.

  The dining hall was almost empty, even though it was nearly nine. Emily picked up a tray, sat at the high table and ate slowly. Damia had told her the students were allowed to sleep in on weekends, if they didn’t have chores or detentions. Only a handful of students, all seniors, were in evidence. They didn’t pay any attention to her as they crammed food into their mouths, clearly preparing for a trip to Pendle later in the day. Emily wished she was going with them. If there was any outside force influencing the students - and she hadn’t detected anything over the last week - it might be operating outside the school.

  Damia doesn’t believe there is, Emily mused, as she finished her breakfast. She keeps finding more work for me to do.

  She put the thought aside, returned her tray to the kitchen and headed through a maze of corridors to the rear courtyard. The school felt almost empty, the classrooms eerily quiet as she walked past their doors. Students weren’t banned from visiting the classrooms on weekends - the alchemy labs and spellchambers were always booked solid - but the girls didn’t seem to want to spend any more time in the classrooms than strictly necessary. Emily understood. It was a warm, sunny day, the sort of day she preferred to spend outside.

  A gust of cold air struck her as she walked into the courtyard and looked around. It looked as if someone had opened the rear of the castle, tearing
down the defenses just so they could install a giant swimming pool. Emily had to smile as she walked around the edge of the pool, keeping a wary eye on the water. Large bodies of still water could be dangerous, she’d learnt through bitter experience. It was unlikely the swimming pool held any real threats, but... Emily shook her head. It was better to be careful than sorry.

  “Lady Emily,” a voice called. “I...”

  Emily turned. A blonde woman, around the same age as Brier, was hurrying towards her, carrying a pitchfork under one arm. She would have been pretty, if she hadn’t looked so worried. Her eyes lingered on Emily as if she expected Emily to cast a spell or jump her at any moment. Emily sighed, inwardly. The newcomer had to be Nadine. There was no one else at the school who had any reason to fear her personally.

  Nadine drew herself upright. “Did the Queen send you?”

  “No,” Emily said, curtly. She’d said as much, to Lady Damia. She was surprised the older woman hadn’t reassured Nadine. Perhaps Nadine had assumed Emily was lying. “Alassa didn’t say anything about you.”

  “No?” Nadine sounded doubtful. “Nothing at all?”

  “No,” Emily said. She tried to sound reassuring, but... it was hard. “I don’t think you matter too much to her.”

  “Father is dead,” Nadine said. “I don’t think anyone bothered to formally exile me.”

  Emily nodded. Nadine was a bastard, with no blood tie to any of the rebellious baronies. She wouldn’t have inherited, even if the Noblest had won the civil war. Alassa presumably knew Nadine existed, but it was unlikely she cared enough to sign a formal article of banishment, let alone an execution warrant. Nadine couldn’t cause any trouble, not as long as she stayed at Laughter. Alassa was hardly the kind of person to wage war on a magic school out of nothing more than sheer spite.

  “Good.” Nadine relaxed, slightly. “I don’t want to go home.”

  Emily cocked her head. “What happened to you? I mean...”

  “Flying lessons first,” Nadine said, briskly. She held out the pitchfork. “What do you make of this?”

  Emily hesitated as she took the pitchfork and held it, gently. She’d always been a little disappointed that magicians didn’t ride broomsticks, even though she hated the idea of trusting her life to something so fragile. And it was almost terrifyingly easy to imagine someone shooting her out of the sky. There were spells that could tear through flyers like knives through butter... she put the thought out of her head as she studied the spells on the wood. They were complex, but surprisingly manageable.

  “The pitchfork trains witches to cast the spells automatically,” Nadine said. “We try to get the girls through that part of their training as quickly as possible, just to make sure they don’t become dependent on it.”

  “It’s a wand,” Emily said. “Or a staff.”

  “Same basic idea,” Nadine agreed. She grinned, suddenly. “You don’t want to know how they were traditionally used.”

  Emily scowled. She had a pretty good idea.

  “Mount up,” Nadine ordered. “And try and power the spells.”

  Emily hesitated, then swung her leg over the pitchfork. The magic crackled around her, as if she’d just clambered onto a dragon. She reached out gingerly, trying to direct magic into the spells. It felt as if someone was guiding her, directing the magic into a formal pattern... the pitchfork twitched underneath her, then floated into the sky. Emily felt herself twist, as if she was on the verge of falling off. Nadine caught her before she could crack her head against the ground.

  “You’re an adult,” Nadine said, more to herself than Emily. “You’re overpowering the spells.”

  Emily nodded as she stabilized herself. It felt as if she were rowing a canoe, with every stroke bringing an equal and opposite reaction. She sat up, then tumbled one way and then the other... it felt like a giant rollercoaster, gravity twisting around her even though she’d barely moved. She felt her legs twitch, uncomfortably, as the magic grew stronger. It was hard not to feel a hint of naked terror as she steered the pitchfork into the sky. It didn’t behave like a regular aircraft.

  The laws of physics don’t apply to pitchforks and broomsticks, she thought. She had the oddest feeling she could go in any direction, as long as the magic kept flowing. The slightest misstep might send her careening into the nearest wall. A sardonic voice echoed through her head. They’re so inconvenient.

  “You’re doing well,” Nadine said, pitching her voice magically. She sounded more like a teacher, now she was actively involved in the lesson. “I’ve seen witches do worse.”

  Emily shot her a sharp look. “How many of them were my age?”

  Nadine made a show of considering it. “A handful, but they were all unpracticed magicians,” she said. “The girls generally learn when they’re sixteen, give or take a few years. It’s uncommon for a witch not to be able to fly.”

  “I never learnt, not at Whitehall,” Emily said. The spells were growing stronger, drawing on her magic. It felt as if she were trying to drive a car, with the brakes still on. “They said it was dangerous.”

  “Everything is dangerous,” Nadine said. “And all you can do is master the danger and hope for the best.”

  Emily nodded as she started to circle the courtyard. The pitchfork vibrated slightly as she picked up speed. She closed her eyes, studying the spells guiding her. They felt more like a collection of advanced levitation spells, but designed to do far more than just levitate. She had the feeling she could go really fast, if she tried... she frowned. There had to be a limit, somewhere. The schools would all teach flying if magicians could fly at supersonic speeds.

  She opened her eyes and glanced at Nadine. “How fast can you go?”

  “It depends on your magic,” Nadine told her. “There are upper limits, but they’re different for everyone. It isn’t easy to fly very fast for more than a few minutes.”

  Emily nodded. “I think I prefer to keep my feet on the ground,” she said, as she guided the pitchfork back to land beside Nadine. “It’s a great deal steadier.”

  “And then you wouldn’t be able to fly,” Nadine said. “You never know when you might need to fly away.”

  She took the pitchfork, then nodded. “Try to fly without the pitchfork.”

  Emily closed her eyes and tried to recast the spells. They felt amazingly complex, for charms students mastered in their first year. She had the impression they required constant monitoring, rather than being cast and then left alone to get on with it. Perhaps that was why witches didn’t fly from country to country. They needed to concentrate on their spells... she smiled as she drifted into the air, opening her eyes in time to see the courtyard falling away beneath her. It was like riding a bike or driving a car. Once you mastered the art of doing it without thinking, you could do it for long periods without trouble.

  She grinned as she looked down. A handful of witches were flying down to the town, moving like bats out of hell... or comic-book superhumans. She wondered, suddenly, if people below could look up her dress... her face heated as she lowered herself back down. She’d have to cast a charm to make it impossible, if she kept flying... it was funny how that had never been mentioned in the textbooks. But then, she supposed it was obvious.

  “Not too shabby,” Nadine said, as Emily landed beside her. “A little slow.”

  Emily made a face. It still felt as if she were trying to drive with the brake firmly on. The air resistance was stronger than she’d expected... she frowned, remembering how aircraft were designed to minimize air resistance. The spells felt more like a bubble than a rocket. She made a mental note to look into it, later. The spells themselves might be keeping the witches from flying that fast, if only because they were battering against the wind...

  Nadine pointed across the pond. “I want you to fly over to the tower, slap your hand against it, and then fly back.”

  Emily nodded and cast the spells. The ground fell away beneath her, again, as she rose into the air and glided over th
e water. She tested the magic, considering ways to turn the bubble of spells into a rocket. She’d need to find a way to compensate for g-forces, she reminded herself. She hated to think what would happen to a witch who moved from zero to supersonic speed in the blink of an eye. She’d probably wind up splattered across the landscape...

  Nadine cast a spell. Emily had no time to react before it struck the bubble, ripping her spells apart. She tilted, feet scrambling for purchase on ground that was no longer there, then fell towards the water. There was barely any time to close her eyes before she plunged into the pool, cold water soaking her dress and clinging to her skin. Emily kicked off her shoes automatically, spitting and cursing as she tried to swim to the surface. Her dress was waterlogged, the weight dragging her down. It was all she could do to kick herself up, her drenched hair spilling around her as she broke the water. She coughed and spat. The water might not be clean. And she’d swallowed too much before she realized the danger.

  A head swam towards her. “Emily,” Nadine said. “Are you alright?”

  Emily glared at her as she trod water. Her dress was clinging to her legs, making it hard to keep her head above the surface. “What did you do that for?”

  “To show you how easy it is for someone to knock you out of the air,” Nadine said. Her voice was dry, but there was a hint of amusement in her eyes. “The next time, it might not be water underneath you.”

  “Right,” Emily said, sourly.

  She ignored the offer of a helping hand as she pulled herself through the water and back onto dry land. Her sodden dress clung to her, revealing all her curves. She turned, muttering a spell to dry herself as Nadine carved through the water like a champion swimmer. It was rare to find an aristocratic girl who could swim - Alassa hadn’t been able to, until she’d learnt at Whitehall - but Nadine had taken to it like a duck to water. Emily found it hard to be angry. Nadine had a point. If someone blew her out of the sky when she was high over solid ground, she might be dead before she could rebuild the spells and catch herself.