The Gordian Knot (Schooled in Magic Book 13)

by Christopher Nuttall

  Emily cleared her throat, loudly. “Calm down, both of you,” she snapped. “Did you expect success on the very first try?”

  “It worked for me.” Celadon didn’t even look at Emily. “Why wouldn’t it work for Frieda?”

  “Because you messed up the brewing,” Frieda snapped. Her fingers were playing with her bracelet. “You said yourself that the spell was perfect!”

  “It only takes a tiny error to mess up the potion,” Celadon countered. “And if you can’t master the spell, what hope do you have of passing? You’re going to fail because you’re too stupid to count to eleven without taking off your shoes!”

  Emily saw disaster looming and started forward, but it was already too late. Frieda lunged forward, grabbed the caldron and tossed the boiling contents at Celadon. Emily reached out with her magic, but she couldn’t cast a shield in time. The liquid struck his chest, making him scream in pain.

  Frieda screamed too, a sound of pain and rage and bitter hopelessness. There was something in the sound, something weird and alien and utterly wrong. But there was no time to analyze it. Frieda’s magic flared out of her, slamming into Emily with staggering power. The force picked her up and threw her against the wall, hard. She heard alarms ringing in her head as she fell down and crashed to the ground, landing badly. The screaming was so loud she could barely think ... the world went dark, just for a second. When she opened her eyes, there was no sign of Frieda.

  Fuck, she thought, numbly. Her entire body felt battered and bruised. What happened?

  The door slammed open. Gordian charged into the room, followed by Sergeant Miles and Master Tor. Emily barely registered his presence before he was casting spells over Celadon, trying to save his life. The shock of being drenched in boiling liquid alone might kill him, Emily thought numbly. She had no idea how hot the potion had been, but most brews had a boiling temperature well above water. And he’d taken the potion to the chest ...

  A strong arm grabbed hers, hauling her upright. She found herself looking at Gordian.

  “What happened?” Gordian asked. Behind him, she could see Sergeant Miles levitating Celadon out of the room. “What happened?”

  “I’m not sure,” Emily temporized. Frieda had drenched Celadon in boiling liquid, then attacked Emily herself ... and yet, there had been that weird sensation in her magic. “I ...”

  “Look around you,” Gordian snarled. He didn’t let go of her. “What happened?”

  Emily forced herself to focus. The workroom was a broken mess, the walls cracked and broken, the floor covered with sawdust. She couldn’t see the table ... it took her several seconds, in her dazed state, to realize the table had been reduced to dust. Her wards were damaged too ... she’d known Frieda was powerful, but not that powerful. If she’d blasted Emily with the sort of power it took to damage the walls, Emily would have died.

  “Damn you,” Gordian snarled. He slapped her face, hard enough to get her attention. “What happened?”

  “Let go of me,” Emily said. He was too close to her, his anger all too clear. She shrugged off his arm, leaning back against the wall. Her legs still felt unsteady. “Frieda ... Frieda went mad.”

  “Mad,” Gordian repeated. “What happened?”

  Emily glared at him. She knew Gordian had used the wards to keep an eye on Frieda. Even if he hadn’t, the workroom was monitored. Had Frieda somehow disabled or destroyed the spells? She tried to reach out with her mind to touch the wards, but her thoughts were too unfocused to make contact. Frieda might have hit her harder than she’d thought.

  “Celadon and Frieda had a fight,” she said. She forced herself to go through the entire story, despite the pain and bitter guilt. She’d failed both of them. Frieda would be expelled and there was nothing Emily could do about it. “Frieda ... where is she?”

  “I don’t know,” Gordian said. “She isn’t within the school.”

  Emily eyed him suspiciously. How long had it been since Frieda had blasted her? Had she blacked out for hours? No, that was clearly impossible. Celadon might not have survived if it had been longer than a few minutes. The wards would have sounded the alert the moment Frieda lost control.

  She could have gone down to the tunnels, Emily thought. The wards don’t reach down there.

  She dismissed the thought a second later. Frieda didn’t know the wards didn’t extend into the catacombs. And she knew she was being watched. Emily and Cirroc had drilled that into her head, time and time again. Frieda was no fool. She’d have known the only hope of escape was to get out of the school before it was too late.

  And she can run faster than anyone else, Emily reminded herself. Straight down the stairs and out onto the grounds, then directly into the forest.

  Gordian leaned forward, looming over her. “Where would she go?”

  “I don’t know,” Emily said. Where would Frieda go? Dragon’s Den was the only settlement for miles. But Frieda could live off the land for quite some time, if she wished. She certainly didn’t have any of Emily’s qualms about catching rabbits and other small animals for food, or remaining unwashed for days or weeks. “She could go anywhere.”

  She stepped away from the wards, thinking hard. Frieda couldn’t teleport, as far as Emily knew. She’d certainly burned up much of her power destroying the room. But merely getting a few miles away would make pursuit impossible. Frieda had been good at Martial Magic. She knew how to cover her tracks and throw pursuers off the scent. And if she reached a large city—or even crossed a border—she would be impossible to find.

  “I should have expelled her,” Gordian said. His voice was angry, filled with bitter self-reproach. “When she hurt Adana ... I should have expelled her.”

  “Something is wrong with her,” Emily said, quietly. “I ...”

  Gordian’s face darkened. “Yes, there is. You should have given her a slap and told her to behave, or else. Her behavior was unacceptable. You should have drilled this home to her until she got the message or quit! Instead, you tried to help her.”

  Emily tapped the badge he’d given her. “Isn’t that my job?”

  “There are limits,” Gordian said.

  He sighed, turning away from her. “I’m going to have to alert the authorities,” he said, softly. “She’s a rogue now, one who has to be hunted down ...”

  “You can’t,” Emily said. “They’ll kill her!”

  “Don’t let your feelings get in the way of what has to be done,” Gordian said, harshly. “A student lies at death’s door, thanks to your little friend. How many more excuses are you going to make for her?”

  “There’s something wrong with her,” Emily insisted. “You have to listen ...”

  “It’s too late,” Gordian said. “People will demand answers, Emily. Answers I will be unable to give them, because I didn’t expel Frieda when I had cause. Celadon’s family will not let this pass.”

  “And you’re prepared to sacrifice Frieda to keep your post,” Emily said.

  Gordian’s magic flared, just for a second. Emily stood her ground.

  “If you weren’t one of my students, I would challenge you for that,” Gordian said. His voice was almost a hiss. “And as a probationary student, you can be expelled at any moment.”

  “Fine time to remember that,” Emily snapped.

  “Go see the Warden,” Gordian said. “And then go back to your room and wait. I daresay the inquest will consume all of your time for the foreseeable future. You might want to start working on your defense.”

  He paused. “Oh, and if you happen to think of a place where your friend might be hiding, you should tell me. It will be taken into account during the inquest.”

  Emily scowled as she headed for the door. Frieda could be anywhere by now. She didn’t have the slightest idea where to look ...

  She stopped. There was one place Frieda might go. And no one would think to look for her there.

  Except me, Emily thought. She was certain she was right. Because I’m the only one who kno
ws she can get into my house.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  GORDIAN WOULD NOT BE PLEASED, EMILY knew, if she walked straight out of Whitehall without bothering to ask for permission. Not, she suspected, that he’d give her permission if she bothered to ask. Celadon’s family would demand answers and there would be more than enough blame to go around. Frieda would be expelled and convicted of mutilation and attempted murder, but that wouldn’t be enough. Gordian might lose his job over the whole affair, if his political opponents tried to drag him down.

  They’ll say he should have expelled Frieda after Adana was injured, Emily thought. And hindsight will suggest they were right.

  She walked down the stairs and headed for the door, reaching out with her mind to commune with the school’s wards. Gordian would be monitoring her, of course. He’d want to be sure she’d gone to the Warden before going back to her suite and ... and then what? Emily touched the badge on her breast, feeling unwilling to simply give it up. She’d never wanted to be Head Girl, but she thought she hadn’t been doing a bad job ...

  And one failure is enough to erase a hundred successes, she reminded herself as she altered the wards. Gordian would think she was still in the school until she was well away from the building. He wouldn’t be happy about that either, although it was a minor matter compared to everything else. Her lips twitched in bitter amusement. He’s going to have some problems deciding what to put on the expulsion paperwork.

  Outside, the sun beat down on the grounds. The students lying on the grass or kicking a ball around the field didn’t seem to know that anything was wrong. Emily could hear cheers drifting from the arena, where the duelists were still competing to go into the third round. Gordian must not have alerted anyone apart from the tutors that there had been yet another incident. She felt a stab of bitter resignation as she walked down the path towards the edge of the wards. Some of the students must have seen Frieda as she ran past, but hadn’t thought anything of it. Frieda would hardly be the first student to make a run for the outside world after leaving class.

  She looked back at Whitehall’s towers, then resolutely turned her back. Gordian would definitely try to have her expelled for this, which would set off a power struggle she might lose. She didn’t know what he’d been trying to do to the wards, let alone how they’d react if she tried to push him out of the school. Or if he tried to evict her. Perhaps he would have expelled her by now, if he hadn’t known she could influence the wards. He’d certainly done his best to discourage her from returning last year.

  And Frieda ... Emily sighed, bitterly. She was still no closer to understanding what was wrong with her friend. She’d done everything in her power—perhaps too much—to help Frieda overcome her problems. What else could she have done? Threatened Celadon to force him to go back to the original concept? Bullied him into treating Frieda with a little more respect? Or maybe even just banged their heads together, hard. It would hardly have hurt as much as a cauldron of scalding liquid. But that hadn’t been her responsibility. They’d been meant to carry out the project on their own.

  She wondered, suddenly, if she should send a note to Caleb. Or to the Gorgon. Or someone—anyone—else who might be trustworthy. Caleb would guess where she’d gone, wouldn’t he?

  No time, she thought. I have to get there before her.

  She pushed the thought to the back of her mind as she stepped through the outer edge of the wards. She’d half expected them to try to deny her passage, but they didn’t even flicker as they brushed against her magic. Gordian hadn’t realized she’d left then, not yet. She took a long breath, then carefully tested her magic. She should have enough to teleport, but she wasn’t sure ...

  There’s no time to find a horse or a coach, she told herself. She’d never liked riding, even though Alassa had seen to it that she’d learnt to ride. Horses took one look at her and started plotting to act up. And besides, she might get there first.

  Concentrating, she closed her eyes and cast the spell. The world lurched around her, the teleport striking her with all the force of a punch in the belly. She staggered, landing on the tiny patch of grass outside the house. Her legs buckled a second later and she fell to her knees, half stunned. She’d pushed too much magic into the teleport for safety.

  She forced herself to reach out with her mind, testing the household wards. They were depressingly simple—and stupid—compared to Whitehall’s, but at least they were easy to operate. Her eyes went wide as she realized that someone—Frieda—was already inside the house. It was impossible. If Frieda had stolen the fastest horse in the stables, and ridden him without regard for her or anyone else’s safety, there was still no way she should have reached the house ahead of time. Had she teleported? She had the raw power—after what Frieda had done to the workroom, Emily had no doubt Frieda had the power—but not the skill.

  Maybe she was desperate enough to make it work, Emily mused. She’d heard stories of magicians who somehow managed to teleport by accident, although most of those stories had ended badly. Or ... did she bribe an older student into helping?

  She tested the wards, carefully. Frieda had access rights, but Emily had admin rights. There wasn’t anyone else in the house, certainly no one who registered on the wards. Maybe Frieda had talked someone into teleporting her to Dragon’s Den ... it was the only explanation that made sense. There was certainly no way she could have set up a portal. She lacked the skill to even begin such a task.

  Emily walked towards the door, then stopped. She’d been right—she’d guessed where Frieda would go—but the knowledge brought her no pleasure. She didn’t want to walk into her house and confront Frieda ... again. Celadon was hurt, Frieda a wanted fugitive ... what could they say to each other? Emily was torn between a desperate desire to help her friend and a grim understanding that Frieda might have put herself beyond help. And yet ...

  I have to know what happened, Emily thought. Frieda might have snapped under the workload. Or she might have been influenced by someone else. Or ... she might have just decided she no longer cared to work. I have to know before it’s too late.

  Ignoring the little voice at the back of her mind that insisted it was already too late, she pressed her fingertips against the wooden door and touched the wards. Normally, they would alert anyone inside the house when someone opened the outer door; this time, she took several moments to ensure that the wards wouldn’t react to her presence. She didn’t want to sneak up on Frieda, but she wanted—she needed—to know what Frieda was doing in her house.

  The door opened, slowly. Emily slipped inside, raising one hand in a defensive pose. The wards hummed around her, fading rapidly as she made her way into the living room. Frieda was in the library, it seemed. Emily tensed—there were some books there she’d rather never saw the light of day again—as she heard the sound of someone flipping pages at a fearsome rate. Frieda? Or had someone managed to subvert her wards? Grandmaster Hasdrubal had built them—and Void had checked them, when Emily had inherited the house—but they lacked the power and sophistication of Whitehall’s wards. A skilled wardcrafter, already inside the house, might be able to weaken or destroy them with ease.

  She felt her heartbeat start to race as she reached the library door and peered inside. Frieda was sitting at a desk, her back to the door, reading a book with terrifying speed. Emily’s eyes narrowed ... was that even Frieda? Shapechanging spells and illusion magic was commonplace, although replacing someone for more than a few minutes was extremely difficult. Emily peered forward, trying to determine if ‘Frieda’ was surrounded by a haze of magic, but there was nothing. The wards certainly hadn’t hesitated to let Frieda into the house.

  Emily cleared her throat, gently. Frieda spun around, her hand snapping up to cast a freeze spell. Emily blocked it, careful not to step too far away from the door. If that wasn’t Frieda, or if she’d gone completely off the tracks, she might need a line of retreat. Trying to teleport out of the house would be extremely dangerous, if she’
d had the energy. She hated having to consider her friend a potential enemy, but she had no choice. Frieda had badly wounded at least three people, as far as Emily knew.

  “Frieda,” she said. She found herself utterly unsure what to say. “What are you doing?”

  There was an odd flash of ... something ... in Frieda’s eyes. “Studying.” She rose slowly, moving to hide the book. “I thought you wanted me to study.”

  Emily met her eyes. “Back in Mountaintop, I did something to you, to show you what might happen if you went too far. What did I do?”

  Frieda’s eyes went wide. “You smacked my bottom, then stuck me to the ceiling,” she said, after a moment. “I remember.”

  “Yes,” Emily said. She didn’t think anyone else knew what had happened. Unless someone had dragged the memory out of Frieda’s mind ... she shook her head. The girl in front of her was Frieda. There was no point in trying to hope otherwise any longer. “You have gone too far, now.”

  Frieda looked sullen. Her fingers played with her bracelet. “What do you care?”

  “I care because you’re my friend,” Emily snapped. She felt her patience start to snap. “I have defied the Grandmaster and ignored his orders to come after you. There is a very good chance they won’t let me back in the school! So tell me ... what were you thinking?”

  “I wanted him to shut up.” Frieda looked down. “He just wouldn’t shut up.”

  “Look at me,” Emily snapped. “You shut him up, all right. You poured enough boiling liquid on him to do real harm. He could be dying now!”

  Frieda shrugged. “Serves him right.”

  Emily felt a hot flash of anger. She controlled it ruthlessly.

  “And what do you think people will say when you get hung?” she demanded. “They’ll say it served you right!”

  She glared at Frieda, daring the younger girl to look away. “I ignored orders to go to the Warden and came straight here,” she added. “That’s something else Gordian can beat me with”—perhaps literally, her thoughts added—“when I get home. I came because of you!”