Little Witches (Schooled In Magic Book 21)

by Christopher G. Nuttall

  Emily reached out carefully with her senses, following the thread into the house. It felt as if the other end of the chat parchment link was inside. She walked around, just to be sure, as she felt out the wards. They didn’t appear that strong, from the outside, but whoever had put them together had been very clever. They’d ensured the wards were hard to read from the outside, concealing the iron fist inside a velvet glove. Emily suspected that whoever had cast them was far more capable than Dionne. They might have less power - the wards had been crafted carefully, just to avoid excessive use of magic - but it might not matter. A skilled magician with little power could best an unskilled magician with more power than he knew how to handle.

  She stepped up to the wards and touched them, lightly. They were solid. She couldn’t get through without either breaking them down or being attuned to the spells. She found it hard to believe Mitch’s family were comfortable with the wards, but they might not have been given a choice. They’d had a lodger... Emily wondered, suddenly, just who the lodger might have been. He’d been scared of her, when she’d brought Mitch back to his family. She’d thought he was scared of her because she was a magician, but... she tested the wards lightly, then used the chat parchment to open a chink in the magic. The magical aura should be enough to let her get through without being detected.

  The air felt oddly hot as she stepped up to the door and tested it. The door was unlocked. She pushed it open gingerly and peered inside. The hallway was empty. She inched forward until she could look into the sitting room, careful to make as little noise as possible. Mitch was sitting on the sofa, frozen in time. He’d been put into stasis. Emily shivered as she walked past him and peered into the kitchen. Mitch’s mother was cooking something on the stove. A powerful spell hovered around her, enslaving her. Emily felt a wave of naked disgust. The poor woman was so strongly enchanted that she had no idea Emily was even in the house. Her husband sat at the nearby table, also frozen in time. Emily guessed the woman had simply been charmed into servitude.

  The chat parchment grew warm in her hand. Emily cursed, realizing the owner was trying to access it. He’d have no trouble detecting that the parchment was a lot closer than it should be. Emily was fairly sure Dionne and her gang wouldn’t know they were being manipulated, their thoughts guided along predetermined paths; they certainly wouldn’t know where to come for orders. Karalee’s thoughts hadn’t included any awareness she was being influenced, let alone controlled. Emily turned and hurried towards the stairwell. The rooming house felt oddly empty, the remainder of the guests probably ordered to leave.

  Mitch’s family was planning to leave, she reminded herself, as she slipped up the stairwell. Their lodger clearly had other ideas.

  She felt the wards grow stronger as she reached the top of the stairs and looked around. The rooming house seemed comfortable enough, right down to the carpeted floor and bathroom advertising hot and cold running water. Emily guessed they’d purchased a charmed boiler at some point. She inched down the corridor, gritting her teeth as the wards snapped and snarled at her mind. They were designed to do more than just keep her away. They were intended to make her forget what she was seeing, where she had been going, where... she shook her head, biting her lip to keep her mind clear. Whoever had set up the wards was a master of manipulation. She wondered, suddenly, just how long Mitch and his father had been in stasis. Their thoughts would have stopped, too. They could remain that way for years...

  The door was locked, the doorknob charged with magic. Emily glanced at the chat parchment, then drew the last of the magic from the sheet and tried to use it to open the door. The wards flashed, slamming a force punch into her. Emily grunted as she was thrown back and slammed against the far wall. The manipulator had clearly designed the wards to repel anyone carrying a chat parchment. And now he knew someone was outside... Emily threw caution to the winds and lashed out with her own magic, smashing the door. She darted forward, readying a spell. A hooded figure turned to face her, raising a wand as she crashed through the door. Emily ducked as a flash of red light shot over her head. The figure jabbed the wand at her, time and time again; spells slammed into the wall behind her, pieces of debris drifting from the ceiling. Emily braced herself, then tossed back a force punch of her own. Her opponent was blasted across the room, straight into the wall. His body hit the ground, his skull a shattered mess. Emily blinked in surprise. It shouldn’t have been that easy. She hadn’t expected the force punch to be so effective...

  She turned as she heard scrabbling from the next room. Someone was there... the wards crackled around her, trying to pin her in place. She hastily cast a series of counterspells, trying to break through them before it was too late. The enemy sorcerer’s magic felt oddly familiar. She frowned, glancing at the man she’d killed. He’d used a wand. A poor magician? Or a mundane, charmed into servitude? And...

  Emily shoved her way through the wards, a dark suspicion growing in her mind. The magic felt very familiar. Someone she’d known, someone she’d liked... once upon a time. She crashed into the next room and saw a man on the verge of jumping out the window. He was trying to escape... she thrust her magic forward, punching through his wards and latching onto him. He spun around, revealing a familiar face. Emily felt her heart sink.

  “Simon?”

  Simon jabbed a finger at her. The curse slammed into her wards, dark magic bleeding in all directions. She’d never known him to use such magic before, but... she guessed a man who’d been pushed into serving an unworthy master and monarch might have picked up a few nasty tricks. Dark shadows darted around her, she burnt them back with a single lightspell. Simon swore and raised a hand; Emily shoved him back, hard, against the wall.

  “You...” Simon’s magic boiled against hers. “Let me go!”

  Emily studied him for a long moment. The young man she remembered, the young man she’d liked, was gone. Simon looked more like a hobo than a magician, his eyes flickering from side to side and his body twitching uncomfortably. His clothes had been fancy, once upon a time, but they’d practically been worn through. And he looked as if he’d been through the wringer. She found it hard to be sympathetic. She knew what he’d done in Dragora. She’d even told him she’d kill him, if she ever saw him again.

  “What are you doing here?” Emily had to struggle to speak evenly. Simon had turned a young princess into a murderer at the behest of her father, an act that had eventually resulted in the man’s death. “Why are you even here?”

  She frowned. The timing didn’t add up. Simon couldn’t have put the book in the school. He hadn’t even graduated himself when the mystery intruder had sneaked into the school, then sneaked out again. And he’d gone straight into working for his monarch when he’d left school himself. Her eyes narrowed. Simon had clearly been recruited, after he’d left his former post. But by whom?

  Simon glared at her. “Let me go!”

  Emily met his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

  She tightened the spell, then turned and started to look around the room. Simon was far from incompetent - he was a skilled magician - but he wasn’t that strong. He shouldn’t be able to break free, not in a hurry. She felt her frown deepen. The room - the suite, really - had been turned into a lab. The shelves were stocked with potions and books, including a handful of volumes she knew only by reputation. A large book sat on the desk, surrounded by powerful charms. Emily touched it lightly and had a sense of minds brushing lightly against hers. The book was the counterpart of the one in the school, the one that had been torn up to produce the chat parchments. She wondered what would happen if she threw it into the fire. Would it break the links, rendering the chat parchments useless? Or would it kill the bearers? Or... or what? She shuddered. Given time, Simon could convince anyone carrying a chat parchment that white was black, up was down and... and anything.

  And it would be very hard to detect, Emily thought. What was he doing?

  She studied his notes. Simon had been working on comp
lex charms... what was the point? The charms looked like Dionne’s rite, but... why would Simon want to raise a long-gone witch? It didn’t seem too likely. Had he been feeding her the charms? Given the tools at his disposal, it was possible. The whole affair simply didn’t make any sense.

  It doesn’t make sense to me, Emily thought. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t make sense to him.

  She turned to face him. “What’s the point of all this?”

  Simon smirked at her. There was a hint of madness in his eyes. Emily felt her temper flare. It would be easy, so easy, to slam him against the wall repeatedly until he talked. Or his body was battered to mush. She took a step forward, remembering her promise to kill him. He deserved it. He could have said no when his master had asked him to break the rules... it wasn’t entirely fair, she knew, but she didn’t care. Simon had crossed the line so badly she couldn’t even begin to forgive him.

  She bit her lip. She wanted to hurt him. She wanted to force him to talk. And yet, she needed answers. Quickly.

  “Tell me,” she said. “What is the point of all this?”

  Her mind raced. Revenge? It didn’t seem likely. Simon hadn’t studied at Laughter. How could he? And the whole plot had begun well before Simon had left school himself. Someone was involved, someone who’d recruited Simon and put him to work... someone who’d managed to sneak a weapon into the school. Nanette? She certainly had the skills to make it work. Emily had no idea why she might have a grudge against Laughter, but... the school wasn’t short of enemies. Someone could easily have paid Nanette to do the dirty work.

  Or it could be someone I’ve never met, Emily thought.

  She held his gaze with her own. “Tell me what I want to know and I’ll let you go,” she said. She honestly wasn’t sure she was telling the truth. She wanted Simon dead. She’d wanted him dead well before he’d started manipulating events at Laughter. “You can have a head start before the witches come after you.”

  Simon stared at her, then started to laugh. “You think I can escape them?”

  “You certainly got away from Dragora,” Emily said. The truth - the full truth - might have been carefully concealed, but enough had leaked out for Simon to be declared outlaw. There was no one in Dragora who would have risked helping him. “I assume you can do it again.”

  “Hah,” Simon said.

  Emily scowled. She was fairly sure Simon could teleport. Even if he couldn’t, he could easily get down to the portals and vanish before the alert went out. And yet... she shook her head. He’d done it before. He could do it again.

  “What’s the point of all this?” Emily waved her hand at the notes. “What were you doing to those poor girls? And who hired you?”

  “The girls were already... predisposed to misbehave,” Simon said. “I just gave them a little push.”

  “And now you’ve been caught,” Emily said, bluntly. “Tell me what I want to know and I’ll let you go.”

  Simon lowered his eyes. “I’ve gone too far...”

  Emily privately agreed, but she tried not to show it. “You’re not the first person I’ve met who thought he’d gone too far,” she said. “You’re not the first person who thinks himself utterly beyond redemption. And yet, you can accept that you’ve done something wrong and work to repair the damage you’ve done...”

  “Really?” Simon snorted. “You were born with a golden spoon in your mouth, weren’t you?”

  “No.” Emily met his eyes. “I don’t promise it will be easy...”

  “It will be impossible,” Simon snarled. “Do you think there’s anyone who’d forgive me?”

  No, Emily thought. Simon had a long list of mortal enemies, even if half of them didn’t know it yet. Dionne’s family would blame him for everything, in hopes of saving their daughter from the consequences of her actions. So would the rest of the gang. And what he’d done to the princess was unforgivable. No one will forgive you. Even me.

  “Quite.” Simon seemed to read her thoughts. “I’ve gone too far to stop.”

  “So what are you doing?” Emily lashed out with her magic. “What’s the point?”

  Simon laughed, even as she bore down on him. “Does there have to be a reason?”

  “Someone put the book in the school,” Emily snapped. “And then they put you here, so you could monitor the results. Who? Why?”

  “I can’t tell,” Simon said. “She’ll kill me!”

  “She?” Emily leaned forward. “Who is she?”

  She sensed the spark of magic an instant too late. Her wards shattered. Simon punched her in the chest. He wasn’t as strong as Cat or Jade, but strong enough to send her crashing back. Her magic sparked, spinning out of control as Simon landed on top of her. He was flailing around like a wild thing, his fists waving in the air as if they were attached to strings. Emily gritted her teeth, slipping the dagger out of her sleeve and jabbing it into his leg. Simon recoiled, a fist coming down to crash into the floor next to her head. She threw him off, then rolled over and gathered her magic. Simon had no time to react before she bound him to the floor.

  He giggled. Emily thought she saw something behind his eyes. Something...

  “She said I was to tell you something,” Simon said. Blood was pouring from his thigh, but he didn’t seem to care. “She said I was to tell you it was too late. The witches are heading for the Redoubt. And the end is at hand.”

  Emily blinked. “Who said? Who told you...?”

  Simon looked almost comically surprised. An instant later, his body burst into flame. Emily cursed, throwing up a hand to protect herself as the flames spread out of control. She tried to put them out with a spell, but the flames were charmed. The floor was already catching fire. Emily stumbled to her feet and fled to the stairwell, hoping and praying she could get Mitch and his family out before it was too late. The wards were collapsing, the remnants of their magic steering the flames into consuming the entire house. Simon had probably planned to burn everything to the ground when he left, just to make sure the evidence was destroyed.

  Emily muttered a summoning spell, yanking the frozen forms up and steering them out of the house. Mitch’s mother was harder to drag out. She was so deeply enchanted she couldn’t even tell the house was burning down around her ears. Emily eventually resorted to stunning her and directing her outside, where a crowd was already gathering. Emily handed her over to the crowd, released Mitch and his father from the spells, then threw herself into the air. It might not be too late...

  The rite was supposed to be cast at midnight, she thought, desperately. There was too much wild magic in the air to risk teleporting to the Redoubt. They can’t have started it now.

  But she knew, as she pushed herself up and into the air, that it might already be too late.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  EMILY HEARD SOMEONE SHOUTING BELOW HER as she flew over the town, but she didn’t have time to stop. Whatever Dionne and her cronies thought they were doing, it had to be stopped. Emily’s mind raced. The rite she’d found didn’t seem remotely practical. The power requirements were just too high. She supposed someone could make it work, if they had a battery, but even if they did... what were they trying to accomplish? There’d been so many disparate pieces worked into the spell that Emily had no idea how it actually worked.

  Simon must have fed Dionne the spell, Emily thought. But why?

  She forced herself to think. Simon wasn’t a fool... no, Simon hadn’t been a fool. He was certainly smart enough to realize he was feeding the girls a useless spell. Why? Emily had no idea. It was possible the spell was designed to do something else, something that would be triggered when the girls tried to cast it, but what? She wished, suddenly, that she’d stolen the notes for later examination. She could have parsed it out, piece by piece, and determined if there was something hidden within the spell.

  No one in their right mind would cast a spell they didn’t understand, Emily reminded herself. The lesson had been drilled into her years ago. But they’re n
ot in their right minds.

  She considered the possibilities. She, Simon had said. Someone who clearly knew Emily... Nanette? There weren’t many other possible suspects. Jacquie was... gone. Fulvia was dead. Emily could imagine Nanette picking up Simon, after he’d fled Dragora; she could imagine her recruiting the young man in a plot to do... to do what? Nanette hated her - Emily knew that all too well - but why cause trouble in Laughter? There’d been no way to predict that Emily would go to the school.

  Nanette might have raised a demon, Emily thought. Nanette’s mentor had shown Emily how to call up demons. Why wouldn’t he teach his prize pupil and agent too? If she got a glimpse of the future...

  She shook her head. It made no sense. Nanette had to be involved - there really weren’t many other possible suspects - but she had to be working for someone. Someone who really disliked her. Or Laughter. Or... Emily wondered, suddenly, if Simon had been recruited by another monarch. Laughter and Pendle had been torn away from the kingdom, if she recalled correctly. The monarch might intend to undermine the school, but... she frowned. It really didn’t make any sense.

  Her magic started to ache as she flew up the mountainside. Laughter came into view, seemingly silent... Emily wondered if she should fly directly to the castle and ask for help. Simon’s book had been destroyed. In theory, anyone under his influence should be free. And yet... Emily winced in pain. It could take months, if not years, for someone to recover from mental manipulation, particularly if they were unwilling to admit they’d been manipulated in the first place. They might be on the verge of madness, or... she cursed under her breath. There was no way the girls should have been able to escape the penal dorm, not unless they’d had help. Emily shivered. If a teacher had been subverted…

  Jens is gone, she thought. Who else can it be?

  And how do you know, her thoughts answered, that Jens is really gone?