The Zero Blessing

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The Zero Blessing Page 17

by Christopher Nuttall


  “You won't,” I said, more confidently than I felt. Sure, a transfiguration wouldn't last without careful preparation, but there was plenty of scope for things to go wrong. Alana - and Isabella, I assumed - had learnt in a warded chamber, under adult supervision. But there were no adults here. “The worst you can do is trap me for an hour or so. We reserved this room for three hours.”

  Rose looked at me. I saw a hint of affection, even admiration, in her eyes. “Cat ... are you sure?”

  “You need to learn,” I said. “And there’s no way we can ask anyone else.”

  I had given the matter some thought, to be honest. But I hadn't managed to come up with a better answer. Anyone I asked would wonder, quite rightly, why I hadn't taught Rose the basics. Combined with the rumours about me, they would have no trouble putting two and two together and coming up with zero. Allowing Rose to test her spells on me was the safest option, although there were risks. I just hoped I’d managed to counter all of them.

  “Read the spell carefully,” I said. “And when you’re ready, let me know.”

  Rose nodded and started to read. I watched her lips move soundlessly as she parsed out some of the words. Alana was already beyond the stage where she needed to chant such a simple spell, but Rose had to learn to walk before she could run. I was suddenly very aware of my heartbeat pounding in my chest. If I was wrong about Rose ... I was about to put my life in her hands.

  But she could have told everyone, after I told her, I thought. Isabella would probably have forgiven Rose everything, if Rose had confirmed Isabella’s suspicions. She kept my secret.

  “I think I’m ready,” Rose announced. She looked me in the eye. “Are you sure ...?”

  “Yes,” I said. It was almost true. “Cast the spell.”

  Rose hesitated. I didn't really blame her. I had grown up in a city where sudden transformations - or worse - were just a part of life. I’d learned to cope with having my body changed. But Rose thought it was horrific. And really, how could I blame her?

  I tensed as she muttered the words, moving her hands in a pattern. Nothing happened. I blinked, wondering if I’d messed up the spell somehow, then leaned forward as I realised the problem. Her gestures were precise, but her pronunciation was a little off. And she didn't have the experience to override the problem and make the spell work.

  “Focus on the words,” I said, firmly. Rose was starting to look as though she wanted to give up. “And try again.”

  Rose lifted her hand and tried again. This time, the world spun around me. I squeezed my eyes closed as I felt my body change, then opened them again to see Rose staring down at me. She was a giant ... no, I’d shrunk. My head swam, just for a second. I might have been used to transformations, but there was something disconcerting about suddenly being a great deal smaller. My arms twitched and I looked down automatically. Rose had turned me into a frog.

  I looked back up at her. She was staring, her face clearly caught between exultation and horror. She’d successfully cast a spell, but she’d also reduced her best friend - her only friend - to a frog. I wondered how long it would be until she started abusing the spell when she went home for the summer. Alana hadn't taken long to start turning everyone she could into small animals.

  My new body wanted to jump. Its instincts insisted that it should be a long way away from Rose. I took control with an effort, then started to make signs on the floor. Rose’s eyes went wide, then she nodded and started to cast the counterspell. I saw panic cross her face as the spell failed, the first time she tried to cast it. She needed three tries to get it to work.

  “I’m sorry,” she gasped, as I returned to normal. “I ...”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said. I sat upright, torn between a quiet pride in her success and a flicker of bitter jealously. “I’ve spent much longer as a frog - or worse.”

  Rose gave me a sympathetic look. “Isabella?”

  “My sisters,” I said.

  “My older brother was a bit of a bully,” Rose said. “If he’d been able to turn people into frogs ...”

  Her voice trailed off. I knew what she was thinking. She could turn people - including her brother - into frogs. What would she do when she went home? Maybe she would teach her brother a lesson. Or maybe ...

  “You need to master the signs,” I said. “If someone does that to you, again, you have to be able to ask for help.”

  Rose made a face. “That doesn't happen in my village,” she said. “I never heard of anything like it ...”

  “There was a story I heard a few years ago,” I said. “There was a man who had a very clever horse - a horse who could actually do sums. He used to take it from place to place to show off and earn money.”

  “Let me guess,” Rose said. “The horse was actually a transformed man?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” I said. Dad had told us the story, years ago. I’d had nightmares afterwards. “People used to cast cancellation spells at the horse, because they suspected ... well, you know. It didn't work. The horse seemed to be a normal horse. But one day the man took the beast to a blacksmith’s ... and when the blacksmith removed one of the horseshoes, the spell broke. The beast became a young woman.”

  Rose looked horrified. “What ... how?”

  “It depends on who you believe,” I said. “Apparently, she was cursed by her husband and turned into a horse. He then crafted runes onto the horseshoes to keep her in that form permanently, as long as the horseshoes remained on her hooves. And then he sold her to the trader, who thought she was just a remarkably clever beast. He never realised she was actually human because the horseshoes kept the counterspell from working.”

  I leaned forwards. “She never bothered to learn the signs,” I added. “And that’s why it took years for her to become human again.”

  That, according to dad, was the true moral of the story. He’d insisted that we learn, drilling us time and time again until we could make the signs in almost any form. We could be trapped permanently in another shape, he’d warned, if someone wanted to really hurt us - or simply render us harmless for a long period. And I’d taken his warnings to heart. Alana might tell herself, after doing something like it to me, that she hadn't actually committed murder.

  “That’s sick,” Rose said. “Who would do that to their wife?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I said. “Just make sure you know how to ask for help.”

  “Maybe it’s not a true story,” Rose said. “Just ... just a horror story to focus the mind.”

  “Maybe,” I said. Dad had told us lots of horror stories, each one a warning against misusing magic or trusting in the wrong person. “But trapping someone in another form permanently is possible, with the right preparations. You have to be able to signal for help.”

  Rose swallowed. “I don’t think I wanted to know that.”

  I smiled at her. “You need to cast the spell again,” I said. “I want you to be able to cast it in a heartbeat.”

  “I can't,” Rose said. Her hands were shaking. “Cat ...”

  “You can do it,” I said. “What would you do if you had a choice between hexing Isabella and being hexed yourself?”

  Rose gave me a sharp look, then cast the spell. This time, she got it right first time. I wondered, as I signalled for her to turn me back, if she would leave me a frog for a few minutes, but she clearly didn't bear a grudge. She turned me back, then cast the spell again and again. It would be a while, I thought, until she could cast the spell in a second, but she was definitely on the way.

  “Well done,” I said. “You want to move on to the next spell?”

  “Please,” Rose said. She sounded relieved. It would be a long time before she grew used to transfiguring people, let alone being transfigured herself. “I’m not sure how I can break the spell if someone uses it on me.”

  “The way I taught you should work,” I told her. “But you probably do need to practice that too.”

  I contemplated it for a m
oment, then shrugged. “I don’t know how we could practice that,” I admitted. “I can't turn you into anything.”

  Rose smiled. “We could dare Isabella to turn us into frogs.”

  “That would work, I suppose,” I said. It wouldn't be long before Isabella did something nasty to us. She was probably still smarting over her wrists. “Or we could provoke her ...”

  I shook my head. “I think that would be dangerous,” I added, after a moment. “She might not do as we wanted.”

  “True,” Rose agreed.

  I picked up the next sheet of paper. “This one is a little more complex,” I said. “But it’s easier to cast, once you master it.”

  Rose frowned. “How do you know that?”

  “Alana picked it up with terrifying speed,” I said. Mum had insisted we all learn some self-defence skills, if only to defend ourselves against footpads, but I’d never managed to get them to work. Alana had only mastered them so quickly because she’d learned by practicing on me. “Can you see how it works?”

  “I think so,” Rose said, after reading the instructions. “Are you ready?”

  I nodded. She jabbed a finger at me, muttering words under her breath. Nothing happened.

  “Try again,” I ordered. I hardened my voice, pretending to be my mother. “Now.”

  Rose jabbed her finger at me again, saying the words out loud. This time, I froze solid.

  I would have frowned, if I could have moved a muscle. The spell felt ... odd. I couldn't put it into words, but there was something wrong with it. Rose reached out and prodded my forehead, pressing her finger into my skin. It should have felt immovable, but instead it just felt weird. Maybe she’d accidentally locked my muscles instead ... no, that shouldn't have been possible. I’d written out the spell myself ...

  It broke. My entire body cramped.

  “I’m sorry,” Rose said. She sounded as though she was on the verge of panic. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. I’d had muscle cramps before, but this was different. The spell had felt different. Thanks to Alana, I was very familiar with the spell ... but it was different. “I ...”

  The door opened. “Out,” a sixth-year said. “We need the room.”

  I wanted to argue, but I knew it was pointless. The librarian would take their side and we would just end up with more lines to write. I didn't want to blot my copybook again.

  “Fine,” I said. Rose didn't look like she wanted to continue, anyway. I didn't really blame her. She’d been pushing herself to the limit. “We were just finishing here.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The week would have gone smoothly if it hadn't been for Isabella. Her grudge against me had mushroomed into a monster and she was forever shooting hexes, jinxes and dirty looks at me. The only good thing that could be said about it was that she was giving Rose a great deal of practice with the various counterspells, although it came at a high cost. By the time Friday rolled around, I had already decided that I was going to push back hard. But I still had to wait for an opportunity before I could strike.

  Isabella had, somehow, convinced a team captain to let her take one of the reserve slots on the team. I suspected she’d either paid a bribe or made a promise of future favours, if only because I didn't want to believe she might have any real talent. Alana had done the same, I’d heard. I was torn between relief that my sister was out of my hair - although we didn't actually share a dorm - and irritation that she’d claimed such an important post so easily. I had no doubt she would have manipulated her family connections to convince the team captain to give her a chance.

  But it did work in my favour, I thought. Isabella and her cronies - and the others - were out of the dorm and wouldn't be coming back until just before Lights Out. Rose and I had some privacy to carry out our revenge.

  Rose caught my arm as I checked the washrooms. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  I shrugged. “Isabella needs to be taught a lesson,” I said. I’d learnt that from dealing with my sisters. “Bullies cannot be allowed to walk all over you or they just get worse.”

  “As long as she doesn't know who did it,” Rose muttered.

  “Go watch the door,” I told her. “Come straight back in if you see anyone who might want to enter the dorm.”

  Rose nodded and hurried off. I waited until she was standing in the door, then turned to look at Isabella’s bed. It was identical to mine, save for the stuffed teddy bear resting by the pillows. I felt a flicker of envy, mixed with concern. The teddy bear’s eyes might be nothing more than marble, but Isabella could easily have charmed them to watch over her possessions while she was away. Alana had had something similar, a couple of years ago. Dad had charmed it to protect her, but Alana had taken the charms apart to see how they worked and the poor teddy had never been the same again.

  I pulled the magic sensor out of my pocket and held it out, feeling it vibrating gently in my palm. There was enough magic in the room’s protective wards to make the Device hum, although I’d checked earlier to figure out a baseline for the dorm. Sandy had forbidden us from placing traps anywhere outside our beds, pointing out that someone who needed to use the toilet in the middle of the night didn't need to suddenly find themselves stuck to the floor and trapped. The racket alone would wake the rest of us up.

  The Device thrummed louder as I crept towards Isabella’s bed, carefully feeling out the wards and trap lines. Isabella had done a very good job, I noted as I measured the emissions and compared them to past experience. She’d ensured that no one would be able to open her drapes without waking her, even if they didn't trigger a hidden hex. I was fairly sure she’d charmed the drapes too, probably to distract an intruder. If she hadn't had the idea before I’d humiliated her, she’d certainly had it now.

  Drat, I thought, as it became clear that the bed and bedside cabinet were far too heavily protected for me to sneak closer. Alana might have been able to pick her way through the maze of incants, but I couldn't. Maybe I could discharge some of the spells, perhaps even repeat the fake frog stunt ... I shook my head. There was too much chance of the frog getting lost before it was too late. I’m not going to be able to touch her bed.

  I stepped backwards and glanced at Rose. She was still standing there, looking nervous. I didn't really blame her. The worst Isabella could do was turn us into frogs - if she didn't tattle on us to Sandy - but Rose didn't really believe it. She was far too used to thinking she could get into worse trouble. I winked, then carefully made a very slight mark on the floor with the Casting Chalk. If I was lucky, it would go completely undetected. I took one last look at the teddy bear - its sightless eyes seemed to look back at me - and then hurried back to my bed.

  “Come here,” I called. I held out the Device for her to inspect. “There’s no point in keeping a look out now.”

  Rose still looked twitchy as she examined my work. I’d taken advantage of some private time and sketched out the runes and sigils onto a tiny sheet of iron. Robin had done a very good job. He'd found enough tools for me to create a more interesting Device, once I’d borrowed some materials from Forgery. I made a silent promise to do whatever I could to help him, later on, as I put the last sigil into place. It would take time for the runes to go active - they would have to draw on the magic field directly, rather than work through a magician - but Isabella would have real trouble figuring out what was going on. I put the tiny Device at the end of my bed, then winked again at Rose. Even if Isabella did realise what was going on, she would have to search my bed to find the Device.

  And it will look like she’s been hexed, I thought, as I opened a book and motioned for Rose to sit next to me. No one will go looking for an alternate explanation.

  We were midway through a large potions tome when Isabella and her cronies returned, laughing and joking amongst themselves. I felt a flicker of jealously, which I ruthlessly suppressed. Isabella’s friends weren't real friends. They were just hanging around her because of what she co
uld do for them, in later life. Rose had stayed with me even though I couldn't do anything for her.

  “Losers,” Isabella jeered. “Guess what I’ve been doing?”

  I made a show of inspecting her muddy clothes. “Mud-wrestling an alligator? Swimming in the sewer?”

  Isabella’s face reddened. “You’re talking to the youngest netball player in fifteen years!”

  “Oh,” I said. “How much did that cost you?”

  She clenched her fists. “You take that back!”

  I smirked, even as Rose looked alarmed and hastily prepared a spell. There was no way Isabella would have been playing netball before Jude’s. I was sure of it. Alana would have whined and moaned until Mum and Dad allowed her to play, if Isabella was actually playing with her friends. And unless she was a natural talent, the second or third-year students would have far more experience. I could believe she had managed to make the reserves, but a spot on the actual team? Not a chance.

 

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