“You look lovely,” Jade called, as he walked over to them. Like most of the male students, he wore his dress robes, rather than a proper outfit. “Would you care for the honor of this dance?”
“I would be flattered,” Alassa said, primly.
She allowed Jade to take her hand, then lead her onto the dance floor. Emily watched them go, wondering if it had been arranged in advance. Alassa, whatever else could be said about her, was far from shy, but it was always awkward to wait for a man to ask one to dance. It was quite possible that she’d planned her first dance with Jade beforehand, just to break the ice.
Emily sighed inwardly before blinking in surprise as two boys she knew from Martial Magic came up to ask her and Imaiqah to dance. She turned to look at Frieda and smiled as she realized that Frieda had already been pulled onto the dance floor by another First Year student. Turning back to the boys, she allowed one of them to take her onto the dance floor too, while Imaiqah followed with the other. She switched partners as soon as the music changed, then again and again. But she couldn’t help noticing that Alassa stayed with Jade for every dance.
Maybe she arranged for them to share them all, she thought, as she found herself dancing with an older student she knew from Martial Magic. Or maybe she just wanted to stay with a reliable partner.
She nodded to her partner as soon as the dance finished, then made her way off the dance floor and over to the buffet. A dozen students were standing there, chatting about nothing; Emily took a plate, then nodded to them as she piled her plate with food. She wasn’t familiar with them and she had never found it easy or comfortable to talk to people she didn’t know. Long moments passed before the next dance came to an end, allowing Imaiqah to join her. Frieda was still on the dance floor, seemingly enjoying the time of her life.
“You seem to have quite a few admirers,” Imaiqah said, as she filled her own plate. “One of my partners even asked for an introduction.”
Emily felt her cheeks heat. “And you said...?”
“I said he should ask you himself,” Imaiqah said. She laughed. “You’re not exactly a fire-breathing monster.”
“No,” Emily agreed, looking down at the bracelet on her wrist. “Some monsters are much smaller and harder to see.”
She shook her head. Imaiqah had had so many boyfriends Emily had lost count, some of whom had lasted for only a few days before she dumped them. Sorceresses — even students — had a freedom denied to other women in the Nameless World, but Emily knew she couldn’t share herself so openly. Magic could prevent any physical consequences from the act, yet it could do nothing about the emotional repercussions. She sighed at the thought, then shrugged and dismissed it. Maybe one day she’d find a boyfriend. But, until then, she could wait.
The afternoon wore on as more and more students joined the dancers. Emily danced several more dances, each time with a different partner, before she was finally able to escape to the wall once again. This time, Professor Thande was having a long discussion with Mistress Irene, complete with diagrams drawn out on the table and several heated disagreements. Emily listened for a moment, then realized she could make neither head nor tail of the discussion. Instead, she turned to watch the next dance began. Alassa was still dancing with Jade.
“Emily,” Lady Barb said. Emily jumped, then turned to see the older woman standing next to her. “I trust you are ready for tomorrow?”
“Everything is packed, save for the items going into storage,” Emily said. The last time she’d taken a full trunk to Zangaria, she’d almost lost everything. This time, they were going through a portal, but most of her possessions would be left at Whitehall. “All I have to do is shove a few things in my bag and we can go.”
“We will probably be delayed,” Lady Barb observed. Her voice hardened. “But do try and be ready at the appointed hour. It makes it easier to reprimand everyone else.”
“Alassa,” Emily said.
“Yes,” Lady Barb said. She shrugged. “We have other matters to discuss, Emily, but we can do that later, once we have arrived in Zangaria. I trust you have been keeping up with political developments?”
“Barely,” Emily admitted.
Lady Barb poked her chest with a finger, none too gently. “You cannot afford to leave matters in the hands of others indefinitely,” she said, sternly. “They are acting in your name, Emily, and you will bear the brunt of any problems it causes.”
“I know,” Emily said, quietly.
“I know you find it boring,” Lady Barb said, warningly. “But you don’t really have a choice.”
She looked past Emily, smiling as Sergeant Miles walked over to join them. It took Emily a moment to recognize him; he’d ditched his armor for a set of black robes, representing his rank as a combat sorcerer. Without his armor, he looked like just another sorcerer, she realized slowly. Alassa, she admitted again, definitely had a point about clothes making the wearer. And, in the sergeant’s case, it was a definite form of camouflage.
“Lady Barb,” Sergeant Miles said. “Will you grant me the honor of this dance?”
“Of course,” Lady Barb said, in a flirtatious tone Emily had never heard her use before. “I would be honored.”
Emily watched them step onto the dance floor, feeling an odd pang in her heart. She’d come to think of Lady Barb as a mother, of sorts, yet her biological mother had ruined her life when she had married again. Emily knew that Lady Barb wouldn’t allow someone to ruin her life — and Sergeant Miles was a good and decent man — but it still bothered her. And it bothered her that it bothered her.
I’m being selfish, she thought, bitterly. I should be happy for them, not sad.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the Master of Ceremonies said. “If you will take your partners for the last dance...”
Emily blinked — she hadn’t realized it was that late — then looked around urgently. Jade was still with Alassa, while both Imaiqah and Frieda had partners. The only person who was missing was the Gorgon, who seemed to have stepped out earlier. A handful of boys were standing on the edges of the crowd, looking around for partners of their own. Emily hesitated, fighting down the impulse to remain on the sidelines herself, and nodded to one of them when he looked at her hopefully. He stepped over to her, took her hand and tugged her gently onto the dance floor.
Another year over, she thought. On Earth, it would have been pointless to mark the passage of yet another year. She’d known her life was hopeless. But here...she would miss Whitehall, when she finally had to leave. She’d never realized it was even possible to miss a school. And who knows what will happen next?
After the dance, the students started to scatter. Imaiqah and her current boyfriend headed off somewhere; Alassa and Jade stayed in the hall, chatting together in low voices. Emily let go of her partner, then made her way up to her room. She was too tired to wash; she merely removed the dress, then lay down on the bed and closed her eyes. Another year of schooling was definitely over.
And what, she asked herself again, as sleep began to claim her, will happen next?
Chapter Four
“I FEEL ROTTEN,” FRIEDA COMPLAINED.
“It’s that wine you were drinking,” Emily said unsympathetically, as she pulled herself out of bed. She didn’t feel much better, she had to admit, but at least she didn’t have a hangover. “I thought you were used to drinking alcohol.”
“That’s beer,” Frieda protested. “I didn’t drink any beer at the dance...”
“Glad to hear it,” Emily said. “Didn’t anyone give you a lecture on not drinking more than a little alcohol in a magic school?”
Frieda shook her head. Somehow, Emily wasn’t surprised. Mountaintop had allowed its students to buy alcohol, but the only ones who could afford to buy were the ones who already knew the dangers. Frieda probably wouldn’t have tasted a drop of alcohol between her arrival at Mountaintop and the dance, last night. That would have given her two years, Emily calculated, to lose any tolerance she might have built
up, once upon a time.
“Go see the healer,” Emily ordered. “She can give you something for it. And a lecture too, probably.”
“But...” Frieda rubbed her head. “She’ll kill me.”
“She will probably give you a telling off,” Emily agreed. “But I don’t think she will actually kill you.” She shrugged. “But if you don’t mind spending the day with a hangover, drink lots of water and then make sure you have everything packed. You do not want to have to explain to Lady Barb why we’re late.”
Frieda looked torn, then hurried out of the room. Emily smiled, removed her underclothes and jumped into the shower. It would be her last chance, she knew, to have a proper shower before she returned to Whitehall. Zangaria was a progressive kingdom by the standards of the Nameless World, but it didn’t have any magical showers. The only way to wash was to have servants fill a tub of water, then use magic to warm it. Or have them heat the water, if one didn’t have magic. It was perhaps unsurprising that even the nobility tended to smell faintly unpleasant, no matter how much perfume they drenched themselves in.
Emily grimaced at the memory, then washed herself thoroughly and stepped out of the shower. Lady Barb had told her they would be going through the portal rather than making the long journey from Whitehall to Zangaria by coach, so she donned a pair of loose trousers, a shirt and a jumper Imaiqah’s mother had sent to her. It didn’t look particularly aristocratic, but it was practical. Besides, she knew there would be a place to change into a dress at the far end, should it prove necessary. Half the social rules in the Allied Lands seemed to depend on people ignoring the breaches of conduct, as long as the formalities were observed.
The door opened, revealing Frieda. “She gave me something to drink and I feel better,” she carolled. “But I have to write a long essay on the dangers of over-drinking and drunkenness in exchange.”
“Serves you right,” Emily said, dryly. “And don’t forget to include the prospect of accidentally killing yourself with your own magic when you write the essay.”
She waited for Frieda to dress, then went down to the dining hall. Alassa was already there, looking disgustingly fresh, while both Imaiqah and the Gorgon were missing. Emily sat down next to her, hastily ordering fruit juice and cereal rather than another huge breakfast platter. Beside her, Frieda ordered her usual and tapped her feet impatiently until it arrived.
“I’ve started to pack everything,” Alassa assured her, before Emily could say a word. “But I wanted to leave a few boxes here in storage.”
“Too many dresses and stuff,” Emily said. She took her bowl of cereal gratefully and started to eat. “Or magic tools your father doesn’t want you to bring home?”
“He wants me to do more ceremonial work over the summer,” Alassa said. “I thought he’d let me have three more years of schooling, after my Confirmation, but he was hinting he might want me back earlier. It took hours of arguing to convince him to let me stay here for another couple of years.”
Emily nodded in understanding. Alassa was the only heir King Randor had, the only person who could claim his throne without triggering a civil war. And she’d almost been killed — or replaced — by a Mimic, as well as the normal dangers of studying in a school of magic. Hell, Emily had almost killed her, back in First Year. She couldn’t really blame Alassa’s father for wanting his daughter back in Zangaria, under his protection.
But she knew she would miss Alassa when she was gone.
Imaiqah entered the hall, looking tired and worn. “You look tired,” Alassa said, as Imaiqah sat down. “What were you doing last night?”
“It didn’t involve sleeping,” Imaiqah said. She yawned, loudly. “Can I sleep in the coach?”
“It won’t be a very long drive,” Alassa said. “But if you want to sleep, I dare say no one will dare stop you.”
Emily colored, then finished her breakfast. “I’ll take my stuff down to the Great Hall, then come back to meet you,” she said, as she rose. “Frieda, did you finish packing?”
“I packed everything and it’s in the trunk next to yours,” Frieda assured her. “We can put the remaining boxes in storage now too, if you want.”
“Good,” Emily said.
She nodded to her friends, then walked back to the room, taking the time to say goodbye to the Gorgon on the way. The room always looked bare at the end of term, when the handful of decorations were taken down and either packed into storage or taken home for the holidays, but she knew they wouldn’t be in the same room next year. She’d requested a chance to share a room with Alassa and Imaiqah, yet it was unlikely they’d get it. The other two had shared a room last year, after all, while Emily had already shared a room with Imaiqah. She might just have to get used to new roommates.
Pity, she thought, as she cast a levitation spell. The two trunks rose into the air, then followed her as she walked out of the room like obedient children. We could have had more fun together if we shared a room.
She wasn’t the only student taking luggage down to the Great Hall, or to the Portals. Dozens of students moved up and down the stairs, some levitating their trunks, others showing off by carrying them physically. Emily moved past them and placed her trunks at the bottom of the stairs, where Lady Barb was standing. The older woman looked impatient, making a show of glancing at her watch from time to time. Emily looked up at her, then frowned. It might be quite some time before Alassa was ready to go.
“Tell her to hurry,” Lady Barb said, when Emily said that out loud. “Her father will not be too pleased if she’s late.”
“I know,” Emily said. “But I brought down everything of mine — and Frieda’s.”
“Good,” Lady Barb said. “I wasn’t worried about either of you.”
Emily nodded and hurried back to Alassa’s room. Alassa had finished breakfast and returned to pack, but clothes were strewn everywhere while she sat in the middle of the room, trying to pack them all into her trunk. Emily smiled inwardly — Alassa had never lived without servants before coming to Whitehall — then helped her friend push everything into the trunk and seal the lid. It was not only large enough to take everything she’d brought to Whitehall; the spells placed on the trunk by the enchanter who’d produced it would hold everything in stasis. The dresses could be unloaded later, once they were at Zangaria, and then the maids could sort them out.
“Thank you,” Alassa said, as Imaiqah came into the room. “Did you put everything in storage?”
“Yes,” Imaiqah said. “It will all be safe until we return.”
Alassa nodded, then stood. “I’ll take the trunk down, if you want to check on Frieda,” she said, to Emily. “And I’ll meet you both at the bottom of the stairs.”
“See you there,” Emily said. “And have fun explaining your delay to Lady Barb.”
She smiled at Alassa’s expression, then ducked out of the room and walked back to hers. Frieda was standing outside, levitating two large storage boxes in front of her. Emily took one, transporting it down the corridor and into the storage chambers. There were enough protective spells over the room, according to Madame Razz, to keep their property safe from everyone, save perhaps for the Grandmaster himself. Emily tried to imagine the Grandmaster breaking into their trunks over the holidays, then dismissed the thought. The Grandmaster had better things to do with his time.
“All done?” Frieda asked, hopefully. “Can we go now?”
Emily smiled at the excitement in her voice. “I suppose we can,” she said. She took one final look at the secured boxes, then turned to lead the way to the stairs. “Did you leave anything in the room?”
“Nothing,” Frieda assured her. “There’s nothing left, but the sheets and blankets that came with the room.”
“Good,” Emily said. “Let’s go.”
Downstairs, Lady Barb was reproving Alassa, speaking in a soft tone that Emily knew, from experience, was worse than being yelled at.
“You cannot afford to be late, Your Highness,” Lady Bar
b said. “There will be people who will see it as a sign of sloppiness, then weakness. Those people tend to have assassins on their payrolls. And, while I know you are skilled at defending yourself, those assassins will have more practical experience.”
Alassa said nothing. Lady Barb gave her a long considering look, then looked past her towards Emily.
“Emily,” she said. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” Emily said.
“I will have the coach brought up to the door,” Lady Barb said, turning. “Be ready to load the trunks into the coach as soon as it arrives.”
She walked out of the door. Emily looked at Alassa and frowned. Her friend looked angry, yet also — somehow — depressed. Very few people in her life had ever spoken so bluntly to her, Emily knew, and Alassa was realistic enough to know that Lady Barb was right. A display of weakness, or irresolution, would be used against her, even if it hadn’t been her fault. And then...
Emily shuddered. Only a madman would risk starting a civil war, she was sure, but the Iron Duchess and some of the Barons of Zangaria had tried just that, two years ago. The aristocracy had been cowed, for the moment, but it wouldn’t last. Alassa had even told her, only a few weeks ago, that they’d started scheming to undermine King Randor and his daughter once again. It seemed a handful of executions — including one Alassa had carried out personally — hadn’t been enough to keep them cowed.
She rested a hand on Alassa’s shoulder, just for a second. “You’ll be fine,” she said. “Just keep watching your back.”
“My neck won’t turn that far,” Alassa said. She smiled, but there was no humor in her eyes. “I need a pair of eyes in the back of my head.”
“There are spells that would give you eyes in the back of your head,” Imaiqah said, in an effort to be helpful. “But you also need a good man.”
Alassa merely nodded.
Emily gave her an odd look. Alassa had been accepting, at first, of the fact that her marriage would be arranged by her father. Later, after her Confirmation, she had insisted on having a greater say in any arrangements, when they were finally made. But now...there was something odd about her reactions, something off. Maybe she was just envious of Imaiqah, Emily wondered. It must be galling to watch her friend enjoy spending time with the boys, when Alassa could not compromise herself in such a manner.
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