She shook her head as she turned and headed back to her room. Whatever was affecting the students, if indeed there was something, was subtle. Very subtle. It was easy to see why so many people refused to believe it. A thought struck her and she changed course, heading to the permanent records room. The door was heavily warded, but someone had keyed her into the room. She stepped inside, searched for the punishment logs and started to go through them. There was a very definite pattern, as if a year’s worth of offences had been crammed into two months. And yet...
The magic shifted behind her. She turned, just in time to see Damia step into the room.
“Emily,” Damia said. “Mistress Greenstone informs me that you’ve been handing out too many detentions.”
“For bullying,” Emily said, flatly.
“Yes,” Damia agreed. “In the future, I expect you to send them to the gym mistress for discipline. Detentions are for more serious offences.”
“Bullying is a serious offence,” Emily said. “Why do you let them get away with it?”
“They’re not getting away with it,” Damia said. “Really.”
Emily snorted. “They need something more permanent,” she said. “If they’re not allowed to try out for the team...”
“It would become political, very quickly,” Damia warned. “Their families are powerful. They have considerable influence. And if they used that, they could make life very hard for you.”
“Really?” Emily met her eyes. “Worse than a necromancer?”
“They could also make life very hard for the school,” Damia said. “Next time, send them to the gym mistress. It will make things easier for all of us.”
No, it won’t, Emily thought. The school was more screwed up than she’d thought. It’ll just make things worse.
Chapter Seventeen
“THIS IS WHERE IT HAPPENED,” Lillian said. She shot Emily a sidelong look, clearly picking up on her bad mood. “Penny nearly caught her. Would have caught her, if I hadn’t been a fool.”
Emily nodded, looking around the library with interest. It was smaller than Whitehall’s, with desks, chairs and bookcases cunningly placed to create the illusion of dozens of private study niches scattered throughout the room. A giant cage sat in the corner, surrounding a cluster of bookshelves packed so tightly together that it looked as if the only way to access them was to crawl in on one’s hands and knees. The wards surrounding the cage were impressive, keyed to staff and a handful of students. Emily wasn’t sure if they were keyed to her. The headmistress didn’t expect her to stay past the end of the year.
“Interesting,” she said. The majority of the tomes on display were old, produced in the days before printing presses had become common, but there were a handful of newer books in plain view. She was amused to note copies of textbooks that she’d seen in Whitehall and Mountaintop, some of which had been reproduced without any regard for the writer’s wishes. “What was she doing here?”
“I don’t know,” Lillian said. “I don’t think Penny knew, either. She would never talk about it.”
Emily nodded, curtly. The whole affair made no sense, which left her convinced there was something she wasn’t seeing. No one went to so much trouble just to disrupt a flying display, injure a number of students, and embarrass three harmless girls. There had to be something else, but what? Her eyes swept the room as her frown deepened. The library wasn’t that special. Any truly rare books would be stored elsewhere. There were easier and safer ways to obtain copies of just about anything in the library, even the restricted section. She walked up to the cage and peered through the wire, ignoring the wards. Only a handful of titles were in plain view, none particularly rare or dangerous. She’d read some of them herself.
She closed her eyes, studying the wards. They were tough, tough and complex. She doubted she could crack them without a great deal of effort, running the risk of setting off dozens of alarms in the process. Whoever had put the spells together knew precisely what they were doing. A student who tried to break into the cage would find herself frozen, changed into a frog, or trapped within the wire, until the tutors came to investigate. Void might be able to get inside without setting off the alarms, but Emily didn’t know many others who could. And it would have been pointless. There was nothing in the cage that couldn’t have been obtained elsewhere.
Perhaps she thought there was something there, Emily mused. The library catalogue might be incomplete. Whitehall’s catalogue certainly was. Or perhaps she was foiled before she managed to steal a book.
She ran her hands through her hair, contemplatively. Damia had been certain nothing had been taken. That was reassuring, yet also worrying. Damia wasn’t the sort of person to get that wrong, but it left the question of precisely what the intruder had been trying to do unanswered. If the sole motive had been to embarrass the school, they would have been out the gates and well away by the time their tricks took effect. Unless they’d been trying to frame Penny for everything. Penny might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Lillian cleared her throat. “I was hoping we could go over the homework...”
“Give me a moment,” Emily said. “I’ll be along in a moment.”
She took one last look at the cage. The books rustled faintly as her eyes drifted over them, powerful protective charms responding to her interest. It was hard to believe that a student could have broken into the cage... but the intruder had been no student. Nanette had posed as Lin, a student four years younger than herself. Why couldn’t an older woman pose as a younger girl? She couldn’t have been that much older or the wards would have smelled a rat, but there were certainly spells to make someone in their mid-twenties appear younger...
Nanette could have done it, she thought. But she was badly injured at the time.
Shaking her head, she joined Lillian and started to help her with her coursework. Tutoring one on one was much easier, particularly when the class wasn’t being disrupted by other students. She was tempted to suggest individual lessons for everyone, but she knew there was no way the staff would go for it. There just weren’t enough trained and experienced teachers to give everyone private lessons. And it would cut down on the number of common-born students heading to school.
Some people would probably consider that a good idea, she reminded herself. But it would be a disaster.
The bell rang, half an hour later. Lillian jumped, then stood and dropped a curtsey before heading for the door. She had to hurry. If she was caught outside after Lights Out, she’d be in some trouble. Probably. Emily wasn’t sure who was in charge of supervising Lillian’s dorm, but she was clearly lax. Lillian had wanted to go over protective spells in some detail, as if she’d feared her possessions being stolen. The thought made Emily clench her teeth. There was very little privacy in boarding school. And there was certainly no excuse for stealing what little there was.
She stood, took one last look around the library and headed for the door herself. She’d hoped to find something, anything, but there’d been nothing. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised. Lady Barb and the other investigators would have found something, if it was obvious. Emily had read the reports. They’d carried out an investigation that would have made Sherlock Holmes proud, only to turn up nothing. She was starting to wonder if the problem had a more mundane cause.
And the intruder might have been foiled before she could take a book, Emily thought. Or maybe she had something else in mind.
The corridors started to darken as the students headed to bed. Emily passed a handful of younger girls hurrying down the stairs to get to their dorms before everything went dark. A couple of sixth years were strolling along as if they didn’t have a care in the world, as if they didn’t have to worry about getting back to their rooms in time. They were probably right, Emily decided. If they hadn’t mastered the art of managing their time effectively, and preparing themselves for the coming exams, by now, they probably wouldn’t master it at all. No one had tried to
chase her back to bed when she’d been a sixth year.
Which does rather ruin the fun of midnight feasts, she thought. What’s the point when there’s no risk of being caught?
She snorted, feeling a sudden flicker of nostalgia. She’d liked being a student, with Alassa and Imaiqah beside her. She’d liked the social life, as long as there’d only been a handful of people with her. Sneaking down to the kitchens and stealing snacks had ended badly, once or twice, but it had been fun. Bringing food from Dragon’s Den had been considered cheating. It hadn’t dawned on her to wonder, until much later, what other skills they might have been subtly encouraged to learn.
It wasn’t all roses, she reminded herself. And it became a great deal less fun when Alassa and Imaiqah left.
The corridors darkened until she was standing in a pool of light. She smiled at the effect as she passed a pair of closed doors, the locking charms so powerful she could sense them without trying, then walked up the stairs to her room. The bell rang again, just as she reached the landing. Any girl out of her dorms, and perhaps out of bed, would be in some trouble if she were caught. Emily wondered if the staff would cheat, if they’d use the wards to track students who were out of bounds. The temptation had to be quite high.
She breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped into her room and closed the door. There was nothing keeping her from exploring the school after dark, and she knew she’d have to do just that, but it still felt as if she’d reached safe harbor. She thought she understood, now, why the staff were meant to gain experience of life outside the school before returning to start their careers. It would keep them from remaining mired in the student mindset, keep them from thinking of themselves as students... her lips twitched. Hadn’t there once been a comic about a very old boy - a man, really - who’d never left school?
And in hindsight, she thought as she changed into her nightgown, that was truly disturbing.
Shaking her head, she sat at the desk and started to write a handful of letters. Lady Barb had to be updated on her progress, such as it was. Void, to let him know what was happening; Cat, in the hopes he could convince Penny to write back to her. And Jan, because she wanted to see him again. He couldn’t come to the school, but perhaps they could meet in Pendle. They could take a room at the inn and make love...
Her wards quivered. Emily tensed, automatically reaching for a spell. Someone was trying to break into her room. Someone was... she closed her eyes, reaching out gingerly to feel out the intruder. It couldn’t be a very clever intruder. If someone wanted to search her room without being caught, the best time to do it would be while she was taking a class. The intruder clearly hadn’t realized Emily was in the room. They weren’t doing too badly, Emily decided as they started to unravel the spells, but there was definitely something amateurish about their thinking. She’d never heard of a student sneaking into a teacher’s room and coming face-to-face with the teacher. They’d have been the laughingstock of Whitehall.
And they might have had a chance to get away while the teacher was laughing, Emily thought, although she doubted it would have worked. The teacher would have caught them. No one would have blamed him for using the wards to track them down, once that line had been crossed. They’d still have been the butt of jokes for months and years afterwards.
She was tempted to throw open the door and confront the intruder. Instead, she waited and made mental notes on her progress. There was something oddly stop-and-start about it, as if the intruder were consulting a textbook as she went along. Emily frowned, wondering just how long it would be before the intruder discovered - too late - that she had to act quickly to avoid a trap spell. The intruder felt like someone who’d learnt her wardcracking from books, not from experience. They weren’t ready for twists in the spell that could stop them in their tracks, unless they reacted at lightning speed. Emily was almost more annoyed at the incompetence, rather than the fact the intruder was trying to get into her room. It was just a matter of time...
The wards quivered again, then twanged like a rubber band. Emily heard a muffled sound outside. The intruder had been caught. She stood, readying a shielding spell in case the whole affair was nothing more than a ploy to get her out of the room, then opened the door. A small frog sat on the floor, croaking loudly. She froze when she saw Emily.
“You didn’t do too badly,” Emily said. It was hard to keep her voice stern when she wanted to laugh. The intruder really should have known she was in her room. The duty rota for late-night patrols was common knowledge. Emily wasn’t even on it. “You got through the first two levels, although you were really quite slow. I could have sprung the trap at any point, if I’d wished.”
She reached out with her mind. The transfiguration spell had been designed to be hard for the victim to cancel, although not impossible. If she’d brought a friend along, the friend could have removed the spell and both girls could have fled before Emily opened the door. Emily wondered, idly, why the would-be intruder had come alone. Was it her bid to boost her position within the school? Or... or what?
Emily cancelled the spell. There was a flash of light. When it faded, a fifth-year girl was on her hands and knees, staring up at Emily. A piece of parchment rested in one hand, a wand in the other. Emily let out a breath as she recognized the girl. Karalee was one of Dionne’s groupies, a dark-haired girl who would probably do better in her lessons if she paid more attention to the teacher and less to the social queens. Emily sighed, inwardly, as she motioned for Karalee to sit up. It wasn’t easy to take sides against one’s dormmates. It would be enough to make one a social pariah for the rest of one’s schooling.
“Karalee,” Emily said, just to destroy any hope the girl might have had that Emily didn’t know her name. She’d taken the register time and time again over the last week. “What are you doing here?”
Karalee glanced at her hands, then up at Emily. “I thought... I thought I could break the spells...”
“And then what?” Emily raised a challenging eyebrow. “You thought you could break into my room?”
“I thought...” Karalee swallowed, hard. She suddenly looked very young, her face unscarred by experience. Her bare feet were heavily calloused, marking her as a newborn magician from the very lowest reaches of society. “I thought it would impress people.”
Emily studied her for a long moment. Karalee had never struck her as being particularly innovative, unlike Dionne or Lenore or even Lillian. The girl wasn’t stupid, but... she lacked a certain flair. It was unlikely in the extreme that breaking into Emily’s room had been her idea. The whole thing stank of a challenge, of someone being dared to do something that would get them in real trouble if they were caught. Emily winced, feeling a twinge of pity for the younger girl. She probably didn’t have the strength to tell her dormmates to go to hell.
“You didn’t do too badly,” Emily said, again. “But...”
She hesitated. She’d been told she’d been handing out too many detentions. The thought made her scowl. She hated the thought of sending students to be beaten, even if they deserved it. It wasn’t something she wanted to do...
“We’ll treat this as a learning opportunity,” she said. Who knew? It might give her a chance to get through to the girl. “Tomorrow is Sunday. Do you have any free time?”
Karalee nodded.
“By the end of the day, I want an essay on what you did wrong as you broke through the first three layers of wards,” Emily said. “I want you to focus on what you did wrong before you sprang the trap. Reason out what you did, what you did that went wrong, and then outline it for me. If you can do that, I’ll even count it as an extra credit assignment.”
“But...” Karalee stopped and started again. “I have detention tomorrow...”
“Then you can do the essay in detention,” Emily said. Detention mainly consisted of writing lines, she’d heard. It was designed more to punish students than give them a chance to make up for lost time. “I’m sure the supervisor won’t mind.”
/>
She peered down the darkened corridor, reaching out with her senses. Was there anyone there, hidden under charms or an invisibility cloak? She couldn’t sense anything, but that was meaningless. The wards were too strong, making it hard for her to pick out anything smaller. She briefly considered using the wards themselves to search for unseen eyes, then dismissed the thought. It would be cheating.
“And one other thing,” she added. She doubted Karalee would listen, but she had to make the attempt. “Try to choose your friends more carefully.”
Karalee curtsied, then hurried down the corridor. Emily watched her go, feeling another flicker of pity. Karalee hadn’t come up with the idea on her own, Emily was sure, no matter what she’d said. And she wouldn’t dream of ratting out the person who’d challenged her... Dionne, probably. A sneak’s life wouldn’t be worth living. The poor girl wouldn’t dare report anyone for anything, even if she was blatantly breaking the rules and putting her dormmates in danger.
Emily stepped back into her room and closed the door, then carefully rebuilt the wards and added a few extra twists. If she was any judge, Karalee’s experience would be dissected by her dormmates. They’d want to know what had gone wrong and why. They’d probably help her plan the essay too. And then they’d try to get in again. Emily rubbed her forehead in irritation as she headed to bed. The tradition had seemed practical when she’d been a student, but now... it was just annoying. And worrying. She might have slept through the whole affair.
And they sent the poor girl out on her own, Emily thought. She sighed inwardly as she climbed into bed and turned off the light. She’d been lucky, she supposed, that she hadn’t had to sleep in a dorm. Whitehall didn’t believe in them. It had been a great deal easier to get on with two girls than ten. Karalee’s friends had probably pressured her into doing their bidding. It doesn’t say nice things about them, does it?
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