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Schooled in Magic

Page 32

by Christopher G. Nuttall


  Whatever it was, it was behind the wards. They were perfectly safe.

  “By the Goddess,” Alassa breathed. “Is that ... is that a Mimic?”

  “Quite right,” Mistress Kirdáne said, surprised. “That is a Mimic. Again, they are very rare, but as no one is quite sure how to kill them, they can cause great suffering wherever they go.”

  She clicked her fingers. A door opened in the far wall, revealing a sheep that was slowly dragged into the room by an unseen force. The animal was terrified, Emily realized. As soon as the magic snapped out of existence it tried to flee back through the door it had used to enter. But that door was now closed.

  As the sheep started to try to find another way out of the room, the mist’s glow grew brighter. A moment later, the sheep staggered to the ground, collapsing into dust. Emily felt cold horror, but the worst was yet to come. The mist, chillingly, began to take on a sheep-like form. The mimicry was so perfect that if Emily hadn’t seen it, she wouldn’t have believed it.

  “The Mimic becomes a copy of its prey,” Mistress Kirdáne explained, as they stepped back out into the light. “Though a magic we don’t fully understand, the creature even takes on the memories of its prey, which allows it to pass for human when it devours a human life force. It does it so well that it doesn’t know that it isn’t human until the human form starts to break down, which can take several years. Once it returns to its normal form, it starts to hunt for other prey.”

  Emily nodded in understanding. The Sheep-Mimic didn’t know that it was a Mimic, so it wasn’t scared ... but the sheep had been scared. Maybe sheep were too stupid to react to a threat unless it was immediate. She glanced at her classmates and shivered. One of them could be a Mimic and never know it.

  Mistress Kirdáne’s voice tightened. “The only known defense against a Mimic is to run away as fast as possible,” she continued. “If you find yourself within eyeshot of a Mimic, run. There are some reports that whatever it does to drain life force takes several minutes for a human, so if you get out of range in time you should be safe.”

  Emily gulped. “How do you capture a Mimic?”

  “Very carefully,” Mistress Kirdáne said. “Luckily, they can’t drain wards or other magical constructs, so it is possible to trap one and hold it prisoner. We have tried to starve Mimics in captivity, but the creatures have been known to live for years without feeding. There’s a great deal about them we don’t know.”

  Alassa held up a hand. “How do you tell if someone is a Mimic?”

  “You can’t,” Mistress Kirdáne said flatly. The students exchanged shocked glances. “Think about it. The Mimic has all the memories of its prey. It may not even know it’s true nature itself. You could put it under a truth spell and it will say what it believes to be the truth; as far as it knows, it is a human being, without any knowledge of what it really is. No spell has been found that will detect a Mimic until it finally starts to shed its acquired form.”

  Emily looked back at the closed door and shivered again.

  “And you can’t kill someone on suspicion of being a Mimic, either,” Mistress Kirdáne added. “Almost every Kingdom in the Allied Lands has laws against this practice. No matter why you suspect that someone might be a Mimic, it isn’t considered an acceptable excuse to kill until you catch the human being discovering back into its natural form.”

  Good thing too, Emily thought. She could imagine the witch-hunts if people were allowed to kill their fellows on suspicion of mimicry.

  “Besides,” Mistress Kirdáne said, “do you really want to be right?”

  Emily scowled at the thought. If Mimics were impossible to kill, the newly-revealed Mimic might just turn on its would-be slayer and consume them next.

  Leaving the Mimic behind, they left the blockhouse and headed towards another doorway. “We’re going to see a herd of Centaurs,” Mistress Kirdáne said, as they paused outside the door. “Girls, you are not to attempt to go near the Centaurs. If any of you try, now or ever, you’ll regret it for the rest of your days. Believe me, the consequences can be worse for you here than they are for boys who go too close to unicorns.”

  She stepped through the doorway before Emily could ask her what she meant. Instead, a boy she barely knew followed their teacher right into a forest that reminded Emily of the Martial Magic training ground. This one seemed more alive, somehow, with a scent in the air that made her heartbeat pound in her ears. She looked around and saw that the other girls had also started to pick up on the scent. But what was it?

  “Stay here,” Mistress Kirdáne said, sharply.

  Emily looked down and discovered that she’d started to walk towards the Centaurs. Flushing, she walked back to the doorway and waited with the girls as the boys headed towards the creatures. The Centaurs looked like human torsos and heads grafted onto horse-like bodies, but there was something about the way they moved suggested that they were very far from human. One of them turned to look at Emily and she felt her head swim, as if she had been drugged again. Part of her mind insisted that the Centaur was the most beautiful creature she’d ever seen; the rest of her screamed that she should run for her life. The boys didn’t seem to be in any danger, thankfully. Mistress Kirdáne kept a sharp eye on them from a distance.

  “Why ... ?” Emily swallowed and tried again. “Why are they so dangerous?”

  “You really don’t want to know,” Alassa said, from right beside her–how had she come so close without Emily noticing her friend? The Royal Princess sounded stressed, dangerously so. “My father told me, once, that I was never to deal directly with any Centaurs. They have strange powers over womankind.”

  Emily would have dismissed that as more sexist claptrap, except for the fact that she did feel an odd, almost hypnotic pull towards the creatures.

  It was a relief when Mistress Kirdáne called the boys back and led them through the doorway, back to Whitehall. The class was very quiet as they headed back towards the ceremonial gardens and the colossal beehive set up in the midst of all kinds of flowers. Emily had been taught that some flowers that had been touched by mana were very dangerous, but she couldn’t see any of them in the gardens. Indeed, the massive creature Professor Thande had created seemed utterly unbothered as it worked on one of the beehives, ignoring the creatures swarming around its giant eye.

  “These bees were the subject of a sorcerer’s experiments in increasing honey production in his farms,” Mistress Kirdáne explained. “He believed that if he managed to improve them through exposure to mana, they would become more powerful and capable; instead, they developed a hive mind and started to bargain with him. Terrified, he sent them to Whitehall and retired from beekeeping.”

  One of the girls found her voice. “Are they dangerous?”

  “They can think and act as one,” Mistress Kirdáne said. “One sting wouldn’t kill you, but a few hundred would easily end your life. Unlike mundane bees, they can sting you time and time again without dying. CT is the only one who can actually reach into their hives without dying.”

  “They know better than to sting me,” CT said in its bubbly voice. “Bees in a beehive must beehive.”

  Emily groaned at the pun.

  “What you will learn, over the coming weeks, is how to defend yourself against various magical creatures,” Mistress Kirdáne continued. “I expect you to read about the subject–a reading list will be provided–and familiarize yourselves with the other creatures in the gardens. After that, we will take field trips to visit creatures that cannot be penned for long, if at all: dragons, werewolves, orcs and goblins. Those of you who do not satisfy me that you know how to cope with them will not be going on the field trips.”

  She smiled at the students warmly. “Some of you may find yourselves living close to areas rich in mana,” she reminded them. “You will need such training to keep yourself alive, as well as keeping your people safe. Or, for that matter”–she threw a glance at Alassa–“if you ever have to negotiate with those creatures. E
ven knowing the possible dangers can make it easier to cope when the time comes.”

  Mistress Kirdáne clapped her hands together. “Class dismissed. See you all next week.”

  Emily hung behind as the rest of the class headed back towards the castle. “Mistress,” she said, “are you going to introduce us to the fairies?”

  Mistress Kirdáne blinked in surprise. “Maybe, but they can be very dangerous,” she said slowly. “Why do you ask?”

  Emily hesitated. “If someone wanted to buy a live fairy in a shop, how much would it cost?”

  “They’re rare,” Mistress Kirdáne said. “Catching one is dangerous even if they go docile after they have been captured. Maybe two or three gold coins.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Is there a point to this question?”

  “I was cheated,” Emily said, remembering the fairy she’d saved. She explained, briefly, what had happened. “And then the fairy just vanished.”

  Mistress Kirdáne laughed at her. “Serves you right for not bargaining properly,” she said mockingly. “Didn’t Mistress Irene tell you that you were supposed to bargain?”

  Emily flushed. They hadn’t been taught how to bargain. It wasn’t a skill she had developed on Earth.

  “It’s your money,” the tutor reminded her. “But at least you can know that you freed the fairy. The rules that govern them say they can leave when they’re freed.”

  Emily thanked her and left, walking back towards where Alassa and Imaiqah waited for her. She’d found herself wondering if she’d been cheated while lying in the infirmary, but she hadn’t been sure who she could ask to find out. At least the fairy was free ... Who knew, maybe they’d see each other again. Fairies were something she could look up when they were next in the library.

  Alassa smiled as they entered the school. “I always thought that would be boring,” she confessed. “But do you think they’d bring us a dragon to ride?”

  Emily opened her mouth, but before she could say a word there was a brilliant flash of light. Her entire body locked solid. She couldn’t move a muscle.

  “You,” a voice said, from out of nowhere. “You are going to pay.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  AN INVISIBILITY SPELL, PART OF EMILY’S mind yammered. They were waiting in ambush for you!

  She couldn’t move a single voluntary muscle; she didn’t even know how she was breathing. If someone could be turned into stone for an hour, perhaps there was a spell to hold the body in stasis while the mind thought desperately, looking for a way out of the trap. Beside her, she heard Alassa yelp in shock as three figures appeared out of nowhere, advancing towards her with their hands raised. She couldn’t see or hear Imaiqah at all.

  “Well, well, well,” the lead figure said. She was a girl with long, red hair and a face that would have been stunningly pretty if it hadn’t been twisted into a sneer. “Did you think, Princess, that you were safe without your gaggle of cronies?”

  Emily saw Alassa move out of the corner of her eye as the princess lifted her wand. There was a sudden sense of magic and the wand was yanked right out of the Princess’s hand.

  It flew through the air to be caught by the newcomer, who glanced at it and stuck it in her robe. Her two companions–a dark-skinned girl and a girl who looked vaguely Oriental–grinned as they spread out, both of them staring at Alassa. Emily struggled mentally, but her entire body was as stiff and unmoving as a rock. Unlike Alassa’s spells, the newcomer’s spells were too strong to easily overcome.

  “Melissa,” Alassa said. She sounded confident, but Emily could hear the fear in her voice–and knew Melissa could probably hear it too. “You don’t have to hurt my friends ...”

  “You didn’t have to hurt my friends either,” Melissa snapped. “What were you thinking when you turned Hast into a frog? Or when your cronies cast five different spells on me and walked away, leaving me trying desperately to get them off?”

  Emily would have rolled her eyes if she had been able to move. Of course she wouldn’t have been the only person Alassa had tried to pick on, before she’d been almost killed and then kidnapped. Melissa sounded as if she wanted revenge; naturally, Alassa’s old cronies would have been very good at protecting their leader’s back, even if Alassa couldn’t do spells for herself. But Emily hadn’t seen any of them since Alassa’s near-death experience.

  “It was pointed out to me that I acted poorly,” Alassa said stiffly. Emily could just imagine the lectures she would have had from Mistress Kyla, let alone the Warden and the Grandmaster. A Royal Princess had no business risking her life by bullying students who weren’t properly respectful. “And I am sorry for what I did to you.”

  “You’re sorry?” Melissa asked. She lifted one hand, shaping it into a claw. “You don’t know the meaning of the word.”

  She was posturing, Emily realized, believing it to be perfectly safe. Sergeant Harkin had made it clear that those who took time to show off on the battlefield ended up dead very quickly, as their enemy snapped off killing spells while they were showing off. But Alassa had been working with Emily ever since they’d been jammed together in Basic Charms and she knew more about casting spells without a wand than Melissa would believe. Maybe she could take out all three of the girls before it was too late ...

  Alassa raised a hand and snapped off a charm towards Melissa.

  Melissa looked bored as the charm slammed into her protections and was harmlessly deflected towards the ceiling. A moment later, she tossed a spell back at Alassa, striking the Princess directly in the chest.

  Alassa shrank rapidly. Her robe fell to the ground and covered her as she vanished from Emily’s sight. Emily heard something scratching, just before an oversized rat came into view. That had to be Alassa ...

  “Have fun countering that spell,” Melissa said. “I put some real teeth into its structure.”

  She looked at Emily as if she were thinking about casting a second spell on her, but instead walked away. Her two friends followed.

  Emily helplessly watched her go as cold anger burned through her mind. She hated being helpless at the best of times; being frozen reminded her far too much of being Shadye’s captive. The magic which bound her, and held her firmly in place, seemed solid. She struggled to cast a dispelling charm and escape, but the magic seemed disinclined to work properly.

  The rat squeaked, reminding Emily that it could have been worse. It honestly hadn’t occurred to her that Alassa could be ambushed at any moment, an oversight that had left all three of them thoroughly humiliated. She made a mental note to see if there were spells that could give her a magical spider-sense, or at least some early warning when someone was creeping up on her or lying in ambush. Sergeant Harkin would probably disapprove–he’d been tested their natural abilities, not their magically-enhanced powers–but she had a feeling she was going to need it. That was the second time she’d been caught by surprise.

  Time seemed to slow down until she felt the spell slowly begin to unlock. Her entire body went wobbly, just before she crashed to the stone floor like a sack of potatoes. A second later, she heard a gasp of pain as Imaiqah hit the deck behind her.

  But Alassa, it seemed, was still a rat. Emily somehow managed to roll over and look at Imaiqah, who looked on the verge of tears. She wanted to comfort her friend–both of her friends–but it was so hard to move. Her body felt completely drained.

  Chocolate, she thought, as she reached into her pouch. She’d made a habit of carrying a bar ever since experimenting with the Berserker spell. Slowly, she managed to swallow a couple of chunks, then she passed the rest to Imaiqah. The chocolate gave her enough energy to stagger to her feet and look down at Alassa, who was still a rat. Melissa probably hadn’t intended the spell to be removed easily, if at all.

  Alassa looked up, her nose twitching in a manner that would have been comical if it hadn’t been so serious, and waved her paws in the air. It was easy to understand what she wanted.

  “I’ll try,” Emily said. “I
just don’t have much energy.”

  She cast a single dispelling charm in the air and watched, unsurprised, as it failed to return Alassa to human form. It figured that Melissa had thought of that simple countermeasure and ensured her spell was designed to resist it.

  Next, Emily cast the analysis spell and watched as Melissa’s transfiguration spell appeared in front of her face. It looked to be a simple copy of a spell she’d seen in the book of practical jokes–again, it struck Emily that no one sane could regard a forced transformation as a practical joke–but Melissa had added a nasty component to make it harder to remove.

  “We’ll have to cast the charm together,” Imaiqah said. Her other friend looked completely exhausted, but her eyes were bright. “That particular twist can be beaten because it can only react to one charm at a time. On three. One, two, three ...”

  The dispelling charm worked perfectly the second time around. Alassa’s form twisted uncomfortably, then returned to human, leaving her crawling on the floor. Emily looked away as Alassa grabbed her robe and pulled it over her head, muttering words in a language that her translation spell declined to adapt properly. Or maybe it was a perfect translation. Most insulting remarks from foreign countries and mindsets didn’t seem so insulting when translated into plain English.

  “I’m sorry,” Alassa said, after another minute. Her voice was muffled as she tried to pull her undershirt on after donning the robe, rather than the other way round. “I didn’t think.”

  Emily wasn’t too surprised. Before she’d arrived at Whitehall, Alassa had her reputation, her family and a gang of cronies who did her bidding, even though she wasn’t a strong magician in her own right. No doubt the cronies had the magic skills to keep Alassa from having a knife shoved in her back by one of her victims. But now...what had happened to the cronies anyway? Had they been sent home in disgrace?

  “They don’t want to be with me anymore,” Alassa admitted when Emily asked. “Their parents said I was dangerous.”

 

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