Fists of Justice (Schooled in Magic Book 12)

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Fists of Justice (Schooled in Magic Book 12) Page 33

by Christopher Nuttall


  Emily had to admit she had a point. The room had been stripped bare of everything apart from a table so rickety she was afraid to breathe on it and a framework in the corner that might – might – have been part of a bed. The wooden floor was sticky, her feet making odd sounds as she walked over to the table and dropped her notebook on top. She didn’t want to know what caused the smell, but it was everywhere. It was probably the least romantic place she’d ever seen.

  “They would have stuffed an entire family in here, if they were lucky,” Caleb said, from the door. “This would have been all they’d had.”

  “Ouch.” Emily had never quite grown used to the limited privacy at Whitehall, but this room was far worse. No one would have had any privacy. “Can you find us some chairs?”

  “Sure,” Caleb said. “Just give me a moment.”

  Frieda caught Emily’s eye as Caleb hurried back out of the room. “Make sure you eat something,” she said. “I can hear your stomach from over here.”

  Emily nodded, tiredly, as she opened the notebook. Markus had given it to her, explaining that he’d started producing them to promote the bank. Emily doubted the notebooks helped to bring in new customers, but it would be useful. She needed to write down everything she could remember from the scrolls, then try to draw it into a coherent whole.

  “Here,” Caleb said, dragging a pair of chairs into the room. “I’ll just go pick up the third chair.”

  Emily took one of the chairs, sat down and started to write. The spell notation was ancient, but thankfully she’d had plenty of time in Old Whitehall to get used to reading it. She translated it mentally as she went along, noting where the designer had cunningly buried aspects that would only come into play when the entire spell was created. Justice would develop intelligence – of a sort – fairly quickly, intelligence that would be focused around his core principles. Emily wondered, as she sketched out each set of spells, just what the original designer had been thinking. The entity didn’t seem designed to serve as a weapon.

  Maybe he just wanted an implacable judge too, Emily mused. Justice – at first – would not be able to break his own rules. But, as he grew more and more intelligent, she had no doubt he’d be able to spot loopholes and take advantage of them. Or maybe he was setting a booby trap for future generations.

  “I think we might be able to copy the trick they used,” she mused. Getting a spell through Justice’s magic-absorbing field would be tricky – perhaps that was why the dispelling charm hadn’t worked – but she’d had an idea. Linking charms weren’t affected by wards. “We’d just have to get something else through the haze.”

  “I hit him with rocks,” Frieda said. “It had some effect.”

  Emily nodded. Justice might have been surprised – if he was capable of being surprised – when the rocks hadn’t fallen out of the air as soon as they’d entered his field. Most magicians didn’t think to use spells to throw objects rather than propel them through the air. It was a weakness she’d taken advantage of more than once. But, lacking any real physical component, flying rocks were unlikely to rip him apart.

  “They were inside his field,” she said, as she sketched out a set of notes. Sorcerers Row might be in ruins, but Markus had enough supplies – in the bank – to give them a chance to build their own weapons. It wasn’t as if a staff was anything more than a carefully-primed piece of wood. “That gives us an in.”

  She frowned. Something was nagging at the back of her mind, something she’d missed.

  “You’re talking about putting a charm on the end of a staff and thrusting it into him,” Caleb mused. “How do you know the charm will survive the field?”

  Frieda snickered.

  Caleb glared at her. “Shut up!”

  Emily rubbed her forehead, tiredly. “I don’t,” she said, choosing to ignore Frieda’s unsubtle joke. “We might have to launch several staffs at him.”

  “Risky,” Frieda said. “We don’t have any way to measure the potency of his field.”

  “Even the most powerful wards barely notice chat parchments,” Emily pointed out. She could do a couple of experiments. It wouldn’t be too hard. “And if we could get a modified spell through the haze, we could take Justice apart before he has a chance to kill us all.”

  “It might work.” Caleb stroked his chin as he stared down at her notes. “What if we set up a link between Heart’s Eye and here? You’d be able to overfeed him instead.”

  “We could try,” Emily mused. She didn’t think it was a good idea. Overfeeding the entity might be disastrous. Either Justice would become more powerful, or there would be an explosion. “But I don’t think there’d be much of a city afterwards.”

  She sighed. “I don’t think we could even get to Heart’s Eye to set up the other end of the link. It’s a very long way away.”

  “True,” Frieda agreed.

  Emily looked down at her parchment. She was missing something, something obvious. But what?

  A nasty thought struck her. “Caleb,” she said, slowly. “Where are Karan and Croce?”

  “Croce’s teaching some of the young men how to fight,” Caleb said. “Karan was brewing potions…why?”

  Emily wasn’t sure she wanted to follow the chain of logic to its ultimate destination, but she didn’t have a choice.

  “Caleb,” she said. “The attack on your house…how did they get inside the wards so quickly?”

  Caleb looked back at her, puzzled. “They must have hit them with staggering force. Those staffs they use channel vast amounts of magic…”

  “Your mother did a very good job,” Emily pointed out. There were too many oddities about the whole story for her to take it at face value. The Fists of Justice hadn’t just punched through Sienna’s wards. They’d devastated Sorcerers Row itself. “The wards were designed to deflect magic, not absorb it. You should have had ample warning to grab what you needed and run before it was too late.”

  She closed her eyes, unwilling to say the next words. “The attack must have started from inside the wards. Caleb, I think Marian betrayed us.”

  Caleb stared at her in shock. “Emily…”

  “She never liked Emily,” Frieda put in. “And she was obsessed with Justice…”

  “Shut up,” Caleb snapped. Emily sensed ragged magic sparkling around him and winced, inwardly. Caleb was as tired as she. They were all tired. “Emily, Marian wouldn’t have betrayed us!”

  “Someone told the Fists of Justice that I was going to the temple,” Emily said. She could see the pain on his face. She damned herself, silently, for making him suffer. “Someone let them into the wards. All she needed was a chat parchment and a staff of her very own.”

  “They didn’t capture her,” Frieda put in. “She went with them willingly.”

  “Shut up,” Caleb hissed. “Shut up, or you will never speak again.”

  Emily groaned, inwardly, as Caleb started to pace the room. She was too tired…she should have talked to him in private. Or, perhaps, talked to his parents. He was going to hate her for this, even if she was right. And if she was wrong…

  “It might not have been her fault,” she said. Janus had known that General Pollack had been appointed to command the City Guard. He’d had ample opportunity to prepare a few contingency plans. “If she’d seen Justice, she might have been overwhelmed…”

  “Marian would not have betrayed us,” Caleb said. “She…”

  His voice trailed off. Emily understood, all too well. Marian had loved Casper, mourned his death…blamed Emily for his death. She’d had good reason to want to follow Justice even before the entity had begun making appearances. And once Justice had gotten his hooks into Marian’s mind, she would no longer have known right from wrong. She’d been so focused on avenging Casper that she hadn’t realized what she was doing.

  And what, her own thoughts asked her, if she did know what she was doing?

  “Emily.” Caleb breathed rapidly, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Emily, if y
ou’re wrong about this…”

  Emily silently filled in the blanks. The end of their relationship, certainly. A new enemy, one who knew too much about her. And…perhaps Caleb would try to kill her. She wouldn’t even blame him if he wanted to take a swing at her, not after what she’d told him. He valued his family, loved his family. The thought of losing them hurt him more than he could say.

  And if he had to choose between me and them, she thought bitterly, he’d choose them.

  She closed her eyes in pain. She’d never had siblings. She’d never really understood, not at an emotional level, just what it meant to have siblings. Or, perhaps, what it meant to be betrayed by someone so close to her. Caleb would never recover from the blow, even if Marian turned out to be innocent. He’d still have to cope with Emily hurting him…

  “I’m sorry,” she said. She didn’t open her eyes. “Someone had to have betrayed us…”

  Emily heard footsteps echoing across the room, followed by the door slamming. She opened her eyes. Caleb was gone. She wondered if he’d gone to tell his parents…to tell his parents what? That their youngest daughter might have betrayed them? Or to formally end the courtship. Or…

  They’d had fights before, Emily remembered. There had been friendly arguments over magic techniques and a nastier argument over more intimate matters. They’d hurt, more than she cared to admit, but they’d kissed and made up. She hoped, deep inside, that they could put this argument behind them too…

  “He’s never been a younger sister,” Frieda said. “He can’t understand what it’s like.”

  Emily gave her a sharp look. “Explain.”

  Frieda looked…tired. “The first two or three children are treated like…like valuable children.” Her lips twitched, as if she wanted to smile humorlessly. “After that, they become a drain on resources. The older siblings know they’re wanted; the younger siblings aren’t so sure. All the bitter resentments start to pile up…”

  “Marian was loved,” Emily said. Frieda had grown up in the Cairngorms, where families lived close to the edge. She’d known, from the moment she was old enough to think, that her family considered her expendable, that she might be killed one day so the rest of the family might live. Marian had lived a very different life. “Marian is loved.”

  “She may not have seen it that way,” Frieda said, quietly.

  Emily looked down at the table. They had to stop Justice. She knew they had to stop Justice before the entire city was consumed. And yet, part of her wanted to stay in the room and hide. She’d hurt Caleb badly, even if she was right. And if she was wrong…

  She shook her head. It didn’t bear thinking about.

  “Fuck it.” She looked up at the younger girl. “Do any of us have a happy family?”

  “Imaiqah,” Frieda said, after a moment. “And Jade.”

  Emily nodded, tiredly. Jade was an only child. So was Alassa. Frieda had no intention of ever going home, any more than Emily herself. Emily had no idea about the Gorgon or Aloha. Imaiqah was the only one with a large and happy family.

  And even her family has secrets, Emily thought. What will happen when some of them get out?

  She rose, feeling her joints starting to ache. Her body was tired and her soul…she felt dead, as if her thoughts and feelings were wrapped in a grey haze. She wanted to climb into bed and forget the world, forget everything…she knew, intellectually, that she was being stupid, but it was hard to believe it. She didn’t want to believe it.

  “Sit down,” Frieda said. “I’ll get you some food.”

  She rose and gently pushed Emily back into her chair. “I know how you feel,” she said, briskly. “But you’re in no state to talk to anyone at the moment.”

  Emily closed her eyes, again. Perhaps a little nap…she heard Frieda walking across the room and leaving, closing the door behind her. A little nap…the door opened again, seconds later. Or had she fallen asleep? She couldn’t swear to anything. And yet…the footsteps echoing towards her were not Frieda’s.

  She turned. Sienna stood behind her, carrying a tray of food and a mug of water. Emily cringed, inwardly. Sienna was the last person she wanted to talk to right now, even though they had to work together. If Caleb had been mad at her, Sienna would be even worse. Perhaps she should save time and insult the rest of the family.

  “Eat,” Sienna ordered, putting the tray on the table. “Please.”

  Emily hesitated.

  Sienna snorted. “You would hardly be the first young woman to have emotional problems at the worst possible time.” She sounded more annoyed than angry. “Or to put your foot in your mouth when no one has any patience or tolerance at all. You need to eat, so you will eat.”

  She tapped the table, meaningfully. “Eat.”

  Emily gritted her teeth and took the spoon. Sienna – or someone – had cooked another fish stew. It smelled vaguely off, but her spells insisted it was safe to eat. The people who lived in Fishing Plaice probably didn’t get the best food, she thought, as she took a bite. It was so bland and favorless that she wished for spices, or even salt and pepper. The potato was just as favorless as the stew.

  They probably cooked it for hours, just to make sure it was safe to eat, she thought. Sergeant Harkin’s lessons on outdoor survival hadn’t been remotely fun. She suspected the boys had gotten more out of them than any of the girls. At least I can eat it.

  Sienna sat down, facing her. “Now, do you want something to drown your sorrows or are you up to being sensible?”

  Emily took another bite of the food. “Sensible.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Sienna said. She met Emily’s eyes. “We have one problem at the moment – Janus and his pet creature. I expect you and Caleb to work together without letting your emotions get in the way. Can I rely on you to do that?”

  “I think so.” Emily looked down at the table. “I don’t…”

  “He told me.” Sienna sounded as though she’d bitten into a lemon. “I don’t want to admit the possibility, but it does exist.”

  Emily refused to look up. If she was right, Sienna’s daughter had – willingly or unwillingly – betrayed her family. And if she was wrong…she hoped, for Sienna’s sake, that she was wrong. The prospect of having to face an outraged mother across a dueling circle was terrifying, but so too was the thought of Sienna’s life being torn apart. She didn’t want to hurt any of them.

  “We will hope it isn’t true,” Sienna said. “And yet, we will have to consider the possibility that it might be true.”

  “Caleb hates me,” Emily said, miserably.

  “He’s certainly not very pleased with you,” Sienna agreed. She sounded oddly amused. “Do you think you’re the first person to have romantic problems?”

  Emily looked up. “No.”

  “I’ve been a young woman, as much as my children might wish to disbelieve it,” Sienna said, wryly. “I have a mother, sisters, even aunties and female friends. And I happen to know more about Karan’s relationships than she’d be happy about me knowing. Fights between couples are not unique.”

  She snorted. “After this whole…affair…is finished, you and Caleb can sit down and decide how you want to proceed. Believe me, I have had many arguments with my husband. We have often thrown things at each other.”

  Emily sighed. “That isn’t reassuring.”

  “I suppose not,” Sienna said. She rose. “You have work to do. I expect you and Caleb to concentrate on your problems afterwards, when the entire city is not in danger. If your relationship is strong, you’ll get through this and be all the stronger for it; if not, you’re better off finding out now than when you’re married and have three children.”

  “I know,” Emily said.

  “And if you decide not to continue with the relationship, cut it off cleanly,” Sienna said, firmly. “You’ll just make yourself and Caleb miserable if you prolong the agony.”

  Emily looked up at her. “Did you ever accuse your husband’s sister of treachery?”

&
nbsp; “No,” Sienna said. She smiled, rather dryly. “But, as disagreeable as that woman is, I never had reason to suspect her of being a traitor.”

  Her voice hardened. “If Marian betrayed us of her own free will, I will take steps,” she said, coldly. Emily shivered, helplessly. She had no doubt, suddenly, that Sienna would kill her own daughter, if necessary. “And if she was enchanted into betraying us, I will do everything in my power to free her from the taint. She will be free, even if it costs me everything.”

  She looked down at Emily. “And if you are wrong, Emily, I will know it wasn’t through malice,” she added. “I won’t hold it against you. The world would be a happier place, perhaps, if more people remembered that some mistakes are just mistakes.”

  “I know,” Emily whispered. “Thank you.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “THAT’S THE PLAN,” GENERAL POLLACK SAID. “Do you have any questions?”

  Emily shook her head. The plan was simple enough, but she was all too aware of its weaknesses. If Janus knew more about sorcery – and the forces he’d unleashed – than she thought, he’d be able to deduce their plan. Indeed, it was the only plan that had a hope of both destroying Justice and rescuing Marian.

  She glanced at Caleb. Her lover – her ex, perhaps – resolutely did not look back at her. His younger brother wasn’t so restrained. The nasty look he gave Emily would have scared her to death, five years ago. Now, after facing necromancers and dark wizards and all manner of strange creatures, it was no longer so intimidating. She resisted the urge to sneer back at him as General Pollack fielded a couple of questions. Markus and Harman were laying plans to take control of the city after Justice was destroyed.

  And they’re being a little premature, Emily thought, as she glanced down at the staff in her hand. We haven’t won yet.

  She tested the staff, remembering lessons she’d taken with Sergeant Harkin. Staff-fighting wasn’t her forte – she’d reluctantly come to admit that she had no talent for weapons at all – but the staff felt right, like the staves she’d trained to use. Hopefully, Janus and his comrades would overlook it. They’d assume the resistance would resort to non-magical weapons, knowing magic was unreliable near Justice. And yet…she reached out mentally and felt the spell embedded in the wood. It had taken nearly three hours to make staves for everyone, even though – technically – any piece of wood should have sufficed. The charm at the end of the staff alone had taken nearly two hours.

 

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