The Zero Blessing

by Christopher Nuttall

  But I will be telling Rose, I thought. Rose had to know. She had to be biting her fingernails right now, assuming she hadn't been frozen or turned into a frog. She thinks I can't help but fail.

  I looked down at the shimmering blue liquid. Rose would have been right, too.

  Sweat prickled on my brow. I wiped it away, unable to stop staring at the potion. Everyone talked about the day they first used magic, about how they never forgot the moment when they’d bent the universe to their will ... I understood, all of a sudden, why so many people were boastful about their first magic. It had changed their lives. And I’d never felt that way because I’d never had magic.

  I felt the tiny glass bottle in my pocket. I’d found a way to work magic, true magic ...

  And yet, I asked myself, why did no one else think of it?

  The door clicked, then opened. I looked up. Magistra Loanda stood there, looking cross. I hoped she wasn't cross at me, although that was probably a false hope. She’d probably expected me to fail again.

  “I brewed the potion,” I said, as calmly as I could. “It’s ready for you to test.”

  Magistra Loanda gave me a sharp look, then walked towards the desk. I tensed, despite myself. Who knew what she’d hoped would happen? A successful brew ... or an embarrassment for my parents? Perhaps Magistra Loanda didn't know herself. Dad had often commented that the really smart people adapted to whatever happened. And a Master Brewer would be very smart indeed.

  “It looks good,” she said, as she took a ladle and dipped it into the caldron. “What did you add and why?”

  “Terri’s Flowers,” I said. It had seemed the simplest way to brew the potion. “They make the potion a little more forgiving.”

  “There’s no such thing as a forgiving potion,” Magistra Loanda told me, stiffly. She tested the brew twice, dunking her wand into the liquid and stirring it, then nodded. “You appear to have made it work.”

  I looked down at the caldron. “Thank you.”

  “It is also the best brew I have seen for some time,” Magistra Loanda added. I looked up, sharply. “It is stable - it won’t decay in a hurry. It should react well to preservation spells, I think. I believe the Healers will be glad to have it.”

  I stared. “They’ll take it?”

  “They are permanently short of healing potions,” Magistra Loanda informed me. “This brew is excellent and will be added to their supplies. Bottle it up, then label it properly. Make sure the label is very clear.”

  My hands were shaking as I rose to get some vials. I’d never expected it to be that good. But I had followed the instructions precisely and added the magic at the right time ... I was going to have to work on my formula and find out a way to infuse the magic in a more focused manner. Maybe I could do the simpler potions now ... the more complex potions were still beyond me.

  I forced myself to focus as I poured the liquid into the vials. Each one would help save a life, if administered in time. I was tempted to try to pocket one, but I had a feeling that would be dangerous. Magistra Loanda was watching me like a hawk. I couldn't tell if she was pleased or upset by my success. If she knew I had no magic ...

  The sooner I talk to Dad, I thought, the better.

  “Clean up the rest of the classroom,” Magistra Loanda added, once the potion was bottled and sealed. “Make sure you dispose of everything properly, then stack up the dirty caldrons in the pile to be scrubbed.”

  I nodded and got to work. Maybe I could pile up more dirty caldrons in the washroom, where Isabella would be working on Saturday. It would be mean of me, particularly when Alana had caused the near-disaster ... I sighed, torn between annoyance and gratitude. If she hadn't tattled on me, I wouldn't have risked using the formula without testing it. I’d have to find a way to thank her.

  Magistra Loanda sat back at her desk and started going through the next pile of marking. I felt an odd moment of sympathy for her, even as she bent her head over a piece of paper and started to write on it with red ink. Some poor upperclassman was probably going to have to redo the essay in a hurry. I finished stacking up the caldrons, then wiped the desks clean. Whoever had potions tomorrow morning would have no reason to complain, I decided. And whoever had carved ANDI+DELLAH into the woodwork was in deep trouble, when Magistra Loanda caught them. I wondered, absently, which of them had dared vandalise the potions classroom. No Master Brewer would tolerate it for a moment.

  “I’ve finished,” I said, when I’d wiped the last table. “Is there anything else you want me to do?”

  “You did the best potion,” Magistra Loanda said, flatly. “I’m giving you access to Lab Thirteen and its attached storeroom. That’s designed for first-years. Do not attempt to brew something that isn’t in your textbook, even if your mother taught you how to brew it. If you need an ingredient that isn't in the storeroom, come and ask me. I’ll expect a full explanation of why you want it. And keep a list of everything you use.”

  I nodded, feeling numb. I’d won. How could I have won?

  “You may have one other person in the lab with you at any one time,” Magistra Loanda continued. “Try to bring two people into the lab and the wards will bite you. I also expect you to follow the safety rules at all times. If you do not follow them, you will be denied further access to the lab.”

  She paused. “And if an upperclassman wants to use the lab, let them go first,” she concluded, dryly. She scowled down at one of the papers. “Some of them have a lot of work to do.”

  I followed her gaze. There was more red ink than black on the page, half of the scribbled notes caustic comments about the writer’s complete failure to realise that mixing a dozen highly-volatile ingredients together without careful control was asking for trouble. It concluded with an order to report to Magistra Loanda for detention on Friday evening, along with a promise of harder work in the future ...

  Magistra Loanda snorted. “I don’t let others see your homework,” she said, dryly. “I think you can change the lines I gave you. I will not read private remarks to other students.”

  I groaned. “Yes, Magistra.”

  “Go now,” Magistra Loanda said. “The lab will be open to you, outside normal timetables. I expect you to work harder in the future.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  I turned and hurried through the door. It was nearly five, the dinner gongs already echoing through the school. I doubted I had time to go change before dinner, so I walked as quickly as I could towards the dining hall. I’d eat in my uniform, then shower after dinner.

  “You smell,” a third-year student said.

  I ignored her as I pushed open the door to the dining hall. Isabella was standing by the table, talking to Akin and a boy I didn’t recognise. There was a nasty red mark on her cheek. Two more boys were standing a little further away, both sporting bruises of their own. I wondered just what had happened to them, then decided it probably didn't matter. Isabella gave me a nasty smile as I walked over to the table. There was no sign of Rose.

  “Well, little zero,” Isabella said. “Did you get kicked out?”

  I smiled back at her. “I have access to a potions lab,” I said. I gave her a wink. “Would you like to study with me?”

  Akin smiled. He hid it well, a second later, but I caught it. Isabella’s mouth dropped open in shock.

  “You ... you won?”

  “I won,” I said. “Go check with Magistra Loanda if you don't believe me.”

  “I don't believe it,” Isabella snarled. “It’s a trick ...”

  “I told you she was good at forging,” Akin put in.

  “Believe what you like,” I said, as the doors opened. “I’m going to have dinner, then get a shower.”

  “Your friend is back in the dorm,” Isabella said. She rubbed her cheek, angrily. “I’m afraid we had to punish her.”

  I glared. “What did you do to her?”

  “Nothing much,” Isabella said. Her tone was so contemptuous that I wanted to hit her. Only the pres
ence of several upperclassmen kept me from punching her smug face. “I’m sure she’ll be okay in a few hours.”

  My stomach growled. I was turning around to go to the dorm when the door opened, revealing Rose and Sandy. Rose looked unhurt, but badly shaken. Beside her, Sandy looked furious.

  “You’re cleaning the washroom for the next two weeks,” she told Isabella. “And don't even think of trying to get out of it.”

  Rose caught my eye. “What happened?”

  “I’ll tell you afterwards,” I said. I wanted to know what had happened to her too. “Right now, we need to eat.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “She said you’d be kicked out in disgrace,” Rose said, once we’d found a private room. “I thought ... I thought you couldn't make potions.”

  I allowed myself to smile. “I found a new way to cheat,” I said. I dug the tiny bottle out of my pocket and held it out to her. “This actually lets me infuse magic into the brew.”

  Rose took it. “Warm,” she said, after a moment. “What is it?”

  “Magic,” I said. I winked. “I managed to make the perfect brew!”

  “Well done,” Rose said, seriously.

  I met her eyes. “What happened to you?”

  “Isabella started in on me as soon as I got back to the dorm,” Rose said. “She said ... she said you were a zero, that she’d take me in if I dumped you now. I slapped her, hard.”

  “Oh,” I said. I had to smile. “What happened?”

  “She stuck me to the ceiling,” Rose admitted. “I didn't dare try to break the spell because I would have fallen to the ground. All I could do was stay there until Sandy got me down.”

  “Crap,” I said. Alana had stuck me to the ceiling once. The ear-blasting Mum had given her had made sure she didn't do it again. “Did you tell Sandy what happened?”

  “She already knew,” Rose said. “Someone must have told her.”

  “Or she guessed,” I said. I grinned at her. “Tomorrow, do you want to brew a potion with me?”

  Rose smiled. “Of course!”

  I felt my smile fade. “I just don’t get it,” I said. “Someone should have thought of this a long time before me.”

  “You are clever,” Rose pointed out.

  “Not that clever,” I countered.

  “You also have an incentive to look for other solutions,” Rose added. “I mean ... if you lost your leg, you’d want a peg-leg or wheelchair ... you’d want your house redesigned to make it easier for you. But someone who had both legs wouldn't even think about it. He wouldn't know what you needed to make your life easier.”

  I frowned. It was a good explanation. I wanted to believe it. But Mum and her fellows had catalogued literally thousands of uses for each potion ingredient, even if they were seemingly useless or outdated. I’d watched her probing new herbs from all around the world, trying to determine what - if any - uses they had. Dragon scales were hardly rare. It was a great deal harder to get dragon’s blood or dragon’s bones.

  Because dragons tend to dislike it when you try to bleed them, I thought. One of Dad’s apprentices had gone off to bleed a dragon and had never returned. And they’re very resistant to normal magic.

  “I don’t know,” I said. I took back the bottle and rolled it in my fingers. It didn’t feel warm to me. Perversely, that was a good sign. Rose could sense magic without a magic-sensor. “I think we’re going to have to be more careful.”

  “Yeah,” Rose said. “But how are we going to fool Magistra Solana or Magister Grayson?”

  I shook my head. The mock-duels Magistra Solana made us fight always ended badly. I just couldn't cast a defensive spell to save my life. Maybe I could make a couple of protective amulets ... they’d give me an advantage, once. But it wouldn't work twice.

  And she might decide I was cheating, I thought. She would be right.

  “We’d better get on with our homework,” I said. We’d have to go to the library, but I didn't mind that. If nothing else, I needed to see if there were any books detailing the use of dragon-scale formula. “And I have lines to do.”

  Rose smiled as she stood. “You’ll have to think of a cool name, you know.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “Your formula,” she said. “If you were the first person to invent it, you should get to name it.”

  “True,” I agreed. “Mum has a number of potions named after her ...”

  I considered it as we walked into the library and started hunting for useful books. Caitlyn’s Boost? Cat’s Claws? Caitlyn’s Tears? A distressing number of healing potions were named after tears, for reasons I had never been able to understand. Maybe anyone who heard the name would think it was just another healing potion. It was certainly possible.

  “Hey,” Rose muttered. “What happened to them?”

  I looked up. The two first-year boys I’d seen at dinner were walking past, their bruised faces clearly visible. It looked as though they’d been in a nasty fight. There was actually blood on their shirts. One of them snarled at me, but said nothing. Shouting or throwing hexes in the library would get them both kicked out within seconds. The librarian was already looking at them, her eyes dark and cold. If someone had been looking at me like that, I would have run for my life.

  “I don’t know,” I muttered back. Football? Girls weren't allowed to play football, any more than the boys were allowed to play netball. “Or maybe ...”

  Akin entered the library, carrying a large pile of books in his arms. I waved to him as he handed the books to the librarian, beckoning him over. He gave me a tired-looking smile as he sat down at our table. Rose looked alarmed, just for a second. Akin was Isabella’s brother, after all.

  “Those two,” I said, jabbing a finger towards the bruised boys. “What happened to them?”

  “They claimed Scholar’s Rights,” Akin said. “And had a fight, right in the middle of the hall.”

  Rose looked at me. “Scholar’s Rights?”

  Akin answered. “It’s when two people are so antagonistic that they just have to settle it by force,” he said. “The loser has to bow to the winner.”

  “Sounds stupid,” Rose said.

  I shrugged. Duels between trained magicians weren’t uncommon, particularly when most magicians were touchy about real or imagined slights, but Magus Court did everything in its considerable power to keep them from being fatal. Scholar’s Rights sounded like a junior version, where the immature magician merely had to concede defeat. Dad had told me, if I recalled correctly, that the system saved trouble in the long run. But really, I had my doubts.

  “Better that than hexing each other all night,” Akin said. He gave me a tired smile. “I’ll see you in a few days, right?”

  He rose and strode off before I could answer. Rose kicked me under the table. “I think he likes you.”

  I gave her a sharp look. “His sister hates the ground I walk on.”

  “My sister hates her mother-in-law,” Rose countered. “That doesn't stop her loving her husband.”

  I rolled my eyes and turned back to the pile of books. It was easy to lose myself in the tomes, ranging from dry textbooks discussing the different uses of a dead dragon to enthusiastic research papers by alchemists who thought they were on the verge of unlocking the secrets of the universe, but there was nothing about my formula. The closest thing I found was an assessment of how dragons could fly - they channelled the magic field, like bumblebees - that discussed the use of dragon scales. But the brewer didn't even touch on my formula. It was frustrating.

  A hand touched my shoulder. “Bedtime,” the librarian said. “Lights Out is in twenty minutes.”

  I glanced at Rose, horrified. We hurried back to the dorm, just in time to discover that Sandy was on the warpath against anyone who even looked at her funny. There was no time to shower, so we splashed water on our faces and climbed into bed. I half-expected Isabella to hex me in the night, but I was still human when I awoke. She had locked her drapes so tightly t
hat Sandy had to open them by magic, just to get her up for breakfast.

  “I think she’s cross,” Rose said.

  We giggled together.

  Classes went quicker than I’d dared hope, even though I wound up taking two pratfalls under Magistra Solana’s gimlet eye and then getting marked down for not managing to cast spells in Charms. Magister Grayson told me off, but I barely heard a word he said. I was too busy thinking of how I was going to show off, after classes. If I actually could make a potion in front of Rose, I could teach her a great deal more ...