The Zero Blessing

by Christopher Nuttall

  The final seconds ticked down as I brandished the stirrer. If this worked, everything would be fine; if it failed, there was about to be another explosion. I took a nervous look at the rune, then dipped the stirrer into the caldron as soon as the last second ticked away. It should work, I told myself. I’d made it perfectly, then given it to Rose to charge. But my inability to sense magic made it impossible for me to be sure. The rune would react to a major surge ...

  I sucked in my breath as the liquid changed colour. It had worked. Carefully, very carefully, I put the first stirrer down and picked up the second. It seemed to hum in my fingers as I lowered it into the second caldron and stirred, muttering a mnemonic just loudly enough to be heard. My mother had taught me the words, years ago. They were useful things to remember.

  “Not bad,” Magistra Loanda said. Again, I’d missed her sneaking up on us. This time, I didn't jump. “Add the first caldron to the second in five minutes.”

  I nodded, silently hoping she’d go away before I used the third stirrer. Most of her students would use a simple charm to clean the spoon after each use, but that wasn't a real option for me. I had carved cleaning runes into the spoon, of course, yet they took hours to work properly. The textbooks hadn't suggested any way to speed up the process and I wasn't prepared to risk ruining the magic completely. I’d need to do some experiments when I was well away from school.

  Magistra Loanda watched me like a hawk. I gritted my teeth, then picked up the third stirrer as I poured the first potion into the second. It bubbled, alarmingly, but soothed itself as I gently stirred, counting every clockwise stir. Five stirs later, I lifted the stirrer out and watched as the liquid bubbled and went smooth.

  “Very well done,” Magistra Loanda said. She held a hand over the potion for a long moment. “Take it off the heat, then bottle and label it. No one will leave this classroom until I have checked every bottle.”

  I heard some mutters behind me, which tapered off as Magistra Loanda glared. It was easy to be annoyed - it was nearly dinner time - but I understood, all too well. Seven students had been injured on her watch, two critically. Their families would demand answers, if the healers couldn't fix the damage. Magistra Loanda might wind up facing an inquest, even if she wasn't hauled up in front of Magus Court. I couldn't help feeling a flicker of sympathy.

  The idiot who mixed up the eyes will get away with it, I thought. And her teacher will be the one to face the court.

  I felt my head starting to pound again as Magistra Loanda inspected the bottles, then nodded and moved on to Rose. Isabella was working frantically over her caldron, trying desperately to stir it into submission ... it started to smoke, a faint wisp of blue smoke ...

  “Get back,” Magistra Loanda snapped. “Now!”

  The caldron exploded in a flash of light. I threw up a hand to cover my face, then relaxed as the wards caught the blast. Isabella fell over backwards and landed hard - the room snickered - but she was otherwise unhurt. Magistra Loanda yanked her to her feet, marched her to the front of the room and delivered a scathing lecture that had the rest of us torn between the urge to hide and the suicidal desire to laugh. Beside her, Zeya looked pale. She’d been right next to a blinding explosion.

  “You cannot force a potion to speed up,” Magistra Loanda thundered. “How many times do I have to tell you? You cannot force a potion to speed up!”

  She jabbed a finger at me. “Caitlyn has power and talent and knowledge,” she added. “You merely have power. You are pushing your magic too hard, disrupting the cascade reaction that makes the potion work. Why are you not learning from the others in the class?”

  Isabella clenched her fists, but made no answer. I didn't blame her. I’d have been silent too.

  “This is not a place to be careless,” Magistra Loanda snapped. She sounded as if she was on the verge of losing control altogether. She’d been in a foul mood all day and now she’d found a target. “Carelessness will get you killed - or worse! Be careful!”

  She controlled herself with a visible effort. “You will have detention with me every night for a week,” she said. “And you will write out a thousand lines. I will not try to push my potions too hard. And you will not! Do you understand me?”

  Isabella looked pale. But, as Magistra Loanda turned away, she glared at me.

  “Hand in your potions,” Magistra Loanda ordered. “Put them on my desk. I’ll inspect them tonight. And if any of you have made a mistake, rest assured you will be hearing about it on Friday.”

  I glanced at my bottle. I hoped I hadn't made any mistakes. I doubted I’d survive.

  “Isabella, remain behind,” Magistra Loanda said. “The rest of you, dismissed.”

  Isabella shot me another nasty look as I rose and hurried for the door, following the others. No one wanted to stay near Magistra Loanda, not when she was in such a vile state. I couldn't help feeling genuinely sorry for Isabella ...

  Sure, my thoughts mocked. And how are you going to feel after she takes this out on you?

  A fifth-year - I didn't know him - was leaning against the wall when I came out of the classroom. He straightened the moment he saw me.

  “Caitlyn?”

  I nodded. I was surprised he was admitting to knowing who I was. My identity wasn't actually a secret, but I’d learnt that most upperclassmen pretended not to know anything about the lowerclassmen. They were bugs running around their feet, as far as the upperclassmen were concerned.

  “Magistra Haydon wishes to speak with you,” he said. “Come with me.”

  “Fine,” I said. I glanced at Rose. I’d made a mistake. I should have anticipated Magistra Haydon demanding a chat. “See you in the library?”

  “Sure,” Rose said. “Or dinner, if it takes that long.”

  I groaned.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “It’s been a while since we spoke,” Magistra Haydon said. She sipped a cup of tea. Mine sat on the table beside me, untouched. “I have missed our conversations.”

  I tried to lift one eyebrow, like my father. It didn't quite work.

  “Talking to students is always interesting,” Magistra Haydon assured me. “And you are quite an interesting case.”

  She took another sip. The tea was meant to be relaxing, but I was on edge. Magistra Haydon wanted to talk to me now. Not after the potions accident ... now, after I’d apparently used magic in class. Twice, in fact, if you counted potions ... or would that really be four times?

  “You’ve used magic,” she said. “Do you know that?”

  “Yes,” I said. It was hard to keep the irritation out of my voice. I wasn't a girl of eight. My parents might remember me as a little girl, but Magistra Haydon had never laid eyes on me before I entered Jude’s. “I know what I did.”

  “Of course you do,” Magistra Haydon said. “Are you finally starting to understand your magic?”

  I eyed her for a long moment. The question was normal, yet ... there was nothing normal about me. It could be an innocent question or it could be a verbal trap. My father often used them on the apprentices, forcing them to reconsider everything they thought they knew. I’d never been able to keep up with his reasoning for very long.

  “Yes,” I said, finally. I picked up my cup and lifted it to my lips, but didn't take a sip. “Can I ask a question?”

  “Of course,” Magistra Haydon said. “This is a school. We are here to educate.”

  “Healers take oaths of confidentiality,” I said, challengingly. “What oaths have you taken?”

  Her expression seemed to freeze, just for a second. I would have missed it, if I hadn't been watching for a reaction. Oaths weren't exactly a taboo subject, but most magicians got a little edgy when discussing them. The prospect of something that might do real damage to their magic - or kill them - was terrifying.

  “I am bound by the standard conventions,” she said, finally. She schooled her expression into a blandness that would have impressed my mother. “Does that answer your question?”<
br />
  “No,” I said. “Because I don’t know what the standard conventions are.”

  Magistra Haydon looked displeased. “It's complicated,” she said. I had the feeling she hadn't wanted to discuss it. “As a general rule, I am not allowed to disclose information relating to your case without your permission. However, as you are a minor, I am allowed to discuss matters with your parents. And, as you are a student at this school, I am required to report anything that might pose a genuine threat to either the staff or the other students.”

  I frowned. “I thought Healers were much more limited.”

  “Minor children are in no position to appreciate their situation,” Magistra Haydon told me, primly. I had the feeling that was an unsubtle jab at me. “If you were twenty-one, where you would be deemed an adult, I could not share anything concerning you without your permission. I would, however, urge you to grant me that permission if you were in trouble.”

  She leaned forward. “Imagine you were married,” she added. “And then you were badly injured, so badly injured that you needed treatment urgently. Would you want me to ask your husband for permission, as we could not proceed without permission, or leave you to die?”

  I considered it. “I can’t imagine being married,” I said, after a moment. “But if I was ... it would depend, wouldn't it?”

  “Yes,” Magistra Haydon said. “A number of Healers have campaigned against the oaths, believing them to be too restrictive. Magus Court, however, has been resistant to the suggestion of any changes.”

  She leaned forward. “How did you discover your magic?”

  I hesitated. In truth, I wasn't sure how to answer. Magistra Haydon would share whatever I told her with my parents ... and with the school, if she believed I posed a threat. And she might, given that I was working with Objects of Power. She wouldn't have to be right to talk to the Castellan. She’d merely have to believe she was right.

  “In class,” I said, finally. “Some things just started working.”

  She eyed me for a long moment. I didn't think there were any truth spells in the room - and the earring I wore should protect me from them, if there were - but she was probably almost as good as my father at sniffing out lies. I’d certainly given her plenty of incentive to think I’d lied to her. Did she think I’d finally managed to glean a spark of magic? Or did she think I was tricking the teachers somehow?

  “That’s ... ah, very interesting,” she said, finally. “Do you know why?”

  “No,” I said.

  “You have managed to brew several potions, successfully,” Magistra Haydon said. Her voice was very composed. “And you used hexes in defensive class ...”

  “I did,” I said.

  “On your sister,” Magistra Haydon said. “How do you feel about your sister?”

  I shrugged. It wasn't a question I wanted to answer.

  “Bottling it up doesn't help,” Magistra Haydon said. “How do you feel about your sister?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. It wasn't entirely untruthful. “My feelings are mixed.”

  Magistra Haydon gave me what I suspected she thought was meant to be an encouraging smile. “Can you describe them?”

  I shifted, uncomfortably. I’d been raised not to admit weakness - and feelings could be a weakness. I wouldn't have broken down in front of Rose if I hadn't been struggling with wave after wave of emotion. And I really wasn’t sure I wanted to give Magistra Haydon more ammunition. Whatever I told her would be passed on to my parents.

  “The bonds of family are unbreakable,” Magistra Haydon said, after a long moment. She sounded mildly surprised. I realised, after a moment, that there probably was a spell in the air, one tuned to encourage me to talk. “Our brothers and sisters can be our best friends and worst enemies, at the same time. I love my brother, but there were plenty of times I resented him too.”

  “You could never get away from him,” I said.

  “No,” Magistra Haydon agreed. “Do you feel the same way too?”

  I scowled. It was clear she expected an answer.

  “My sister hated me from the moment she discovered I didn't have any powers,” I said, finally. It was hard to keep the bitterness out of my voice. “She mocked and scorned me - she hexed me - because I was weak. Because others would think she was weak. She treated me like ... like a freak, because I was a freak. And I could never get away from her.

  “I wanted to love her,” I added, after a moment. My heart ached, painfully. That was truer than I cared to admit. “And I wanted her to love me. But instead ...”

  I shook my head. Everything had changed, yet nothing had changed. I was still a freak, even though I could make Objects of Power. Alana would still resent me. I would steal the limelight from her as soon as Dad found out the truth. His third daughter had no magic, but that didn't make her unimportant.

  “But now your magic is finally starting to surface,” Magistra Haydon said. “Do you think your relationship will change?”

  “Probably,” I said, sourly. “She won’t be able to hex me whenever she’s in a bad mood.”

  She smiled, humourlessly. “And how do you feel about that?”

  “Good,” I said.

  Magistra Haydon met my eyes. “You spent a large part of your life feeling powerless,” she said, gently. “How did you feel about that?”

  “I hated it,” I said, honestly.

  “And now you have power,” Magistra Haydon said. “It isn't uncommon, you know, for children like your friend Rose to go home and start casting nasty spells on their former tormentors. There was a case, a few years ago, of a young boy who murdered his older brother and five other villagers. I don’t think he meant to do it, but he was so lost in his rage that he fell to the darkness. He became a dark wizard.”

  I swallowed. “What happened to him?”

  Magistra Haydon shrugged. “Look up the details, if you like,” she said. “The point, Caitlyn, is that he embraced the emotions that drove him towards the darkness. His desire for revenge broke him.”

  I met her eyes. “And if they bullied him,” I asked, “was it wrong of him to want revenge?”

  She looked back at me. “At what point does revenge for bullying turn into even nastier bullying?”

  “I’m not going to kill my sister,” I said, irritated. “Can I go now?”

  “You will face temptations over the next few years,” Magistra Haydon said. Her voice was still even. “I want you to understand the problems you may encounter.”

  “Thank you,” I lied.

  She gave me a lazy wave. “You may go,” she said. “But I think we will be having another discussion soon enough.”

  Only if I can't get out of it, I thought, as I rose. I had no idea just how much Magistra Haydon knew, or what she would do if she did know. I won’t be coming back willingly.

  And yet ... I turned the thought over and over in my head as I walked down the stairs. What would happen to me if I saved a dark spell in a gemstone, then cast it? Would I be risking the same kind of mental problems that had killed many a dark wizard? Or would I have an immunity to the curse? I wouldn't be casting the spell myself, would I? But how would I get such a spell? Rose would refuse to cast it for me ...

  A shiver ran down my spine as I considered the implications. Dark wizards went mad. I knew that - everyone knew that. No dark wizard had ever been able to do more than cause a lot of damage before his inevitable death. But what if they didn't? What if I could design an Object of Power that kept the madness in check? Or even one that allowed them to cast the spells without the raw emotions? It was a terrifying thought.

  I met Rose in the library, still contemplating the problem. We worked our way through the homework essays until dinnertime, then slipped back to the library to finish our work. I’d hoped for more time to research, but it was clear that the homework came first. I made a mental list of things to study as I finished my essay, and checked Rose’s for spelling and grammar errors. She’d gotten much better over t
he last few months, but I knew a particularly sharp teacher might deduct marks for basic mistakes.

  Precision is important, my mother had said. She’d drummed reading and writing into us with terrifying zeal. A mistake now means a disaster later.

  The bell rang. “It should be fine,” I assured Rose. “Magistra Loanda isn't planning to skin us alive.”

  Rose looked doubtful. “Are you sure?”

  I had to smile as we left the library and hurried back to the dorm. The corridors were surprisingly empty, something that puzzled me. I didn't think anything important was happening ... but then, Magistra Loanda might have given everyone the same homework and the same almost-impossible deadline. The library had been unusually crowded. We certainly hadn't been able to get a private study room.