Little Witches (Schooled In Magic Book 21)

by Christopher G. Nuttall

  Maybe they learned to bilocate, Emily thought. It didn’t seem likely. The spell had been tricky for her, even before her other self had been killed. She was still dealing with the after-effects. Or maybe they found another way to trick the wards.

  She heard the girls muttering amongst themselves and snapped at them to be quiet. They would have no chance to come up with a story, although Emily couldn’t imagine what sort of story they thought would get them out of trouble. They’d been caught outside the school, all the proof Emily needed they’d been doing something wrong. The rest of the evidence could be collected later. Emily lips quirked, tiredly, as they rounded the corner and approached the gates. She was tired, very tired, but she had to go on. Somehow.

  The wards sparkled an alert as they reached the gatehouse. Emily ordered the girls to stop and waited. It took longer than it should have done for Damia to run into the courtyard and hurry to the gates. Her eyes were curiously tired, as if she hadn’t been asleep either. Emily frowned. Damia had never struck her as someone who’d stay awake half the night.

  “Emily?” Damia stared at the girls. “What... what happened?”

  “I caught them outside the school,” Emily said. She indicated Dionne. “And this one needs a healer. Urgently.”

  Damia nodded and opened the gates with a wave of her hand. “What were they doing?”

  “Too much,” Emily said. “They sneaked out of the school, kidnapped a boy and tried to kill me.”

  Damia, for the first time since Emily had known her, showed a hint of surprise. “Take them to the headmistress,” she ordered. “Now.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  DUCHENE LOOKED, EMILY DECIDED, MURDEROUS.

  It wasn’t just that the headmistress had been dragged out of bed in the middle of the night and barely given any time to splash water on her face before the delinquents were marched into her office. It was the simple fact that they’d risked everything, including the school’s reputation, for... for what? The girls shifted nervously from side to side as Duchene and Damia hurled questions at them, unwilling or unable to come up with some proper answers that might satisfy the teachers. Not, Emily reflected again, that there were any good answers. Trying to murder a teacher would be bad enough even if the teacher didn’t have powerful connections.

  “You had strict orders to stay in the school,” Duchene thundered. Her eyes bored into the assembled girls, who quailed. For once, they were more scared of the headmistress than her deputy, who stood beside her with her arms folded and an utterly unforgiving look on her face. “What were you thinking?”

  She went on before any of the girls could try to answer. “And kidnapping a townsman? Now? What were you thinking?”

  “He is ours, to do with as we please,” Hannalore managed. She didn’t sound as if she believed herself. “We’re witches. He is ours.”

  Duchene glared. “And what did you intend to do to him, when you caught him? What sort of ritual involves catching a running man?”

  Emily frowned as a thought struck her. Certain rites and rituals were about preparing the caster as much as preparing the magic itself. Chasing down a sacrifice might have some symbolic value... she frowned, making a mental note to write to Void and ask him for any insights he might have. She doubted there’d be any books on such rituals in the library... she promised herself she’d check anyway, just to be sure. The girls shouldn’t have been able to gain access to them, if they existed, but they’d already managed to beat the wards once. And their families might own copies too.

  Her mind raced. Dionne wasn’t there. She certainly wasn’t talking. The rest of the girls seemed confused. Had it been a bonding ritual? Something to link them together, to ensure none of them could think better of the whole affair and back out? Or had there been a more sinister purpose? Her imagination provided too many possibilities, each one worse than the last. The only good thing, as far as she could tell, was that they hadn’t been experimenting with necromancy. They wouldn’t have needed to chase the poor boy down for that.

  And he’s probably halfway to Zangaria by now, she thought. Witches weren’t the only dangerous creatures in the forest, particularly after nightfall. Did he even make it home alive?

  “I cannot believe this,” Duchene said, tiredly. Her voice took on a more formal edge. “Lady Damia. I believe Dorm Twelve is barren, is it not?”

  “Yes, Headmistress,” Damia said. “It is clean, but otherwise bare.”

  Duchene addressed the girls. “You will remain in Dorm Twelve until we have contacted your parents and families to discuss your futures,” she said. “You are to consider yourselves prisoners. You are not to leave the dorm for any reason whatsoever, nor are you to make any attempt to contact anyone outside the dorm. Should you do so, you’ll spend the rest of the term hopping on a lily pad. Food and supplies will be brought to you. If you need anything else, inform us when we bring your food.”

  Her voice hardened. “You have disgraced the academy tonight,” she added. “And you have damaged, if not destroyed, an agreement that was forged by Pendle herself. She founded the town, she invited mundanes to live there, she promised them her protection and that of her successors. For generations, we have kept our side of the agreement. You have ruined that overnight.”

  Damia stepped forward, her voice like ice. “Follow me.”

  Emily slumped into a chair as the older woman led the girls out of the room. The headmistress was taking the whole affair seriously, thankfully. She’d recoiled in horror when Emily described the attempt to kill her, even though it had failed. Dionne shouldn’t have known such spells, let alone been able to cast them. Emily frowned, wondering if the girls had been manipulated from afar. Or... she cursed under her breath. She had no solid proof, certainly nothing that would convince their families. Her lips quirked into a humorless smile. Perhaps the families would want to believe their daughters had been manipulated. It would make them look like weak-minded fools, but it would absolve them of murder, attempted murder, misuse of magic and whatever other charges could be thrown at them.

  “Emily,” Duchene said. “How did you know they were planning something?”

  “I am honor-bound not to share that information,” Emily said. She had no idea how Duchene would react, if she knew the truth. Lillian had done the right thing, yet... it would be easy to condemn her as a wretched sneak. Or just let the information slip out to the wrong person. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does,” Duchene said. “I want to know how you knew.”

  Emily looked back at her. “And I am telling you...”

  The door opened. Damia stepped into the room. “They’re bedded down in the dorm for the night,” she said, curtly. “The wards needed a little reinforcement, but... they should keep the girls in the dorm until we’re ready to deal with them.”

  “That’s what they said about their original dorm,” Emily said. A thought crossed her mind, unbidden. If the original dorm was empty, save perhaps for Lillian, it might be worth searching it. “Are you sure they’ll stay put?”

  “Their original dorm was not designed to keep them prisoner,” Damia said, stiffly. “They could leave, if they didn’t care about setting off alarms. We did not want to trap them in the dorm if a fire, or something, should happen to break out. They didn’t so much escape the dorm as find a chink in the wards and exploit it.”

  Duchene stared down at her hands. “What were they thinking?”

  “They insisted they have the right to do as they saw fit,” Damia said. “And that Pendle would approve of their actions.”

  “Incredible,” Duchene said. She shook her head, slowly. “Why did this even happen?”

  Emily gathered herself. She was just too tired to dissemble. “Because you allowed it to.”

  “What?” Duchene half-rose. Her magic sparkled angrily. “What do you mean?”

  “Explain yourself,” Damia added. “How dare you even suggest we...”

  Emily studied Duchene for a long, c
old moment. “You have been allowing your staff, Jens in particular, to teach the girls that their magic makes them inherently superior to mundanes,” she said. “You” - she looked at Damia - “have been arguing that magicians and mundanes are so different that they honestly cannot share space, that they have to separate themselves in order to avoid disaster. And you have staff members insisting that women are inherently superior to men, with witches superior to wizards. And now...”

  She took a breath. “And now, you are acting all surprised when the girls take your words literally and put them into practice. You are astonished when they mistreat townspeople, or hit them with love spells, or kidnap boys and use them for foul rituals... you damn well shouldn’t be surprised! It’s the same story everywhere! The aristocrats who mistreat commoners do so because they believe commoners are worthless. The slavers who keep slaves do so because they believe the slaves are little better than animals, fit only for manual labor. They see their slaves as property, as things.

  “You let this happen. You told young girls who had an edge that that edge made them superior. And then you seem surprised when the witches abuse mundanes.”

  She stood and started to pace. “You know what? I had to pass judgement on young aristocrats who’d raped commoners and serving maids, and you know what? Each and every one of them saw the girls as nothing more than objects. They honestly didn’t believe they’d done anything wrong. Everything they’d been taught told them they hadn’t done anything wrong. They threw fits and demanded duels - or worse - over how their sisters and wives and daughters were treated, but... they never drew the connection between aristocratic women and commoners! They simply didn’t think of the girls as human.

  “And that’s what always happens. Once you start thinking of yourself as superior, once you start dehumanizing other people, it’s only a short step to treating them as...”

  “That will do,” Damia said, sharply.

  “No one ever learns that lesson,” Emily said. “Those who do not learn from history are condemned to repeat it. Those who do learn from history are condemned to watch helplessly as other people repeat it.”

  “That will do,” Damia repeated.

  “No, it won’t,” Emily said. “What do you intend to do about them? And the whole godforsaken mess?”

  Duchene held up a hand before Damia could say a word. “We will consult with their parents,” she said. “It is possible they can be withdrawn quietly from the school. We will, of course, send warning notes to the other schools. Given their age, it is quite likely their families will elect to arrange private tutoring rather than...”

  Emily stared at her. “You’re not going to expel them?”

  “They will not be permitted to remain within the school,” Duchene said. “But we will offer their families the chance to withdraw them quietly, rather than expelling them.”

  “And what sort of lesson,” Emily demanded, “will that teach the rest of the school?”

  “It will avoid a scandal,” Duchene said. “Another scandal, one we can ill-afford.”

  “They tried to kill me,” Emily said. She had no doubt Dionne would have killed her. The spells she’d cast could not be used for anything harmless. “And they would have killed that poor boy.”

  “The well-being of the school must come first,” Duchene said. “If I expel the girls, their families will protest. They will have to protest. Other families will take sides and put pressure on me - and the school board - to rethink the decision. They will not believe - or choose not to believe - your story. The boy is missing, perhaps he will never be found. It will be better, for the reputation of the school, for the girls to be quietly withdrawn as soon as possible.”

  Emily rested her hands on her hips. “And what sort of lesson, I ask again, will that teach the rest of the school?”

  “We will tighten procedures,” Damia said. “Before they leave, we will find out how they slipped through the wards and close the gap in our defenses. We will provide additional escorts when the girls start to return to Pendle...”

  “After the conference,” Duchene said. “We cannot take the risk of another incident. Not now, not...”

  Emily saw red. “And what are you going to do about Jens?”

  “Jens is a teacher of the highest repute,” Duchene said. “She’s...”

  “She’s a magical supremacist who has been teaching her charges that they are superior to people without a spark of magic in their bones,” Emily snapped. “She might well have been the one who showed the girls how to get out of their dorms, perhaps even the one who taught Dionne those curses. You need to fire her. Immediately.”

  Duchene looked irked. “I do not take staffing advice from junior tutors,” she said. “It is not your place to offer commentary on senior staff. It is...”

  “I came here to keep my eyes open,” Emily said. “It is possible, yes, that the girls are being influenced by someone or something outside the school. It is also possible that they have been manipulated without magic, that they have been encouraged to develop... attitudes... that will inevitably lead to disaster, without leaving any traces of outside interference. And Jens has been teaching the girls that they are superior to mundanes. You need to fire her.”

  “That’s not one of your concerns,” Damia said. “Go back to your room and...”

  Emily ignored Damia as she stared at Duchene. “Fire her.”

  “Firing a teacher is normally a matter for the board,” Duchene said. “I can only sack a teacher for gross incompetence or a breach of the code of conduct...”

  “I read the code,” Emily said. “It seems to me you could use it to justify anything.”

  “That is a matter of opinion,” Duchene said. “Jens would certainly put up a fight.”

  “Then ask her to resign,” Emily snapped. “She can go without the stigma of being sacked.”

  “You do not get to make those demands of me,” Duchene said. “And this conversation has gone quite far enough.”

  Emily held her eyes. “I’ve only just begun,” she said. She hated the thought of throwing her weight around, but she didn’t see any other choice. “I am the Necromancer’s Bane, Victor of the Necromantic Wars; I am Baroness Cockatrice, Lady-In-Waiting to Queen Alassa of Zangaria, Apprentice to the Sorcerer Void... and so many other titles I couldn’t even begin to list them all. And if I go to my friends and family and allies and tell them that the conference cannot be held here, what do you think they’d do?”

  Damia’s eyes flashed. “You do not speak to the headmistress like that!”

  Emily ignored her. “They’ll demand the conference be moved somewhere else,” she said, bluntly. “If they don’t get their wish, they’ll withdraw. And that will render the conference, which is a long shot even if nothing goes wrong, worse than useless. Do you think, for one moment, that they’ll insist on coming here?”

  “I...” Duchene suddenly looked a great deal older. “You would really go that far?”

  Emily felt a pang of guilt. She’d never liked people who threw their weight around. It wasn’t much of a consolation to know she’d earned her titles, certainly the ones she’d bothered to remember. Cat had joked she needed a secretary to keep track of the awards and honors that had been showered on her... she’d rolled her eyes at the time, but she was starting to think he’d had a point. And now... she gritted her teeth, refusing to weaken. Jens had to go. If she pushed Duchene hard enough to make her send Jens away... she’d deal with her conscience later.

  “Jens has to go,” Emily said. “If she keeps telling the student witches they’re superior, it’s only a matter of time until something else happens. Something worse.”

  Duchene looked defeated. “As you wish,” she said. “I’ll speak to Jens in the morning.”

  Emily tried to ignore the guilt. She was acting like... she was acting like Viscount Hansel and his brother Tobias. The thought mocked her. Hansel had tried to rape her, when she’d lost her powers. She’d battered him to dea
th, but... she knew she’d been lucky. Hansel might have succeeded if he’d been a little smarter. It had never crossed his mind that his subjects might have ideas of their own, or that... Emily angrily dismissed the thought. She wasn’t throwing her weight around for nothing. Jens had to go.

  “And consider yourself suspended from teaching duties for a week,” Damia added. “If you were a student, who’d mouthed off to the headmistress like that, you wouldn’t be sitting down for a week.”

  No, probably not, Emily agreed. She was too tired to take offense. If Damia was trying to regain some dignity... she found it hard to care. Besides, she needed to search the empty dorm after she had a rest. If I don’t have classes, I shouldn’t have any trouble getting in without being noticed.

  She dropped a curtsey instead. “I’ll go back to my room,” she said. “And I’ll see you both in the morning.”

  “I’ll walk with you,” Damia said. “Please.”

  Emily nodded and walked out of the room. The school felt odd. The lights were bright, yet... she thought it couldn’t be much later than two in the morning. She yawned, covering her mouth with one hand. She’d have to write to Jan and ask him to look for the kidnapped boy, in hopes he could be convinced to testify against the girls. Duchene had surprised her, when she hadn’t moved to expel them... Emily gritted her teeth. The girls really should have been sent home at once. If they were allowed to stay at the school...

  She glanced at Damia. “How’s Dionne?”

  “She scarred herself,” Damia said, flatly. “The damage is purely cosmetic, according to Mistress Allworth, but permanent. There’s too much tainted magic woven into the scars to make them easy to remove.”