(The Zero Enigma Book 6) The Family Pride

by Christopher Nuttall

  “Take a seat,” I said, indicating the other sofa. “Tea? Coffee?”

  Louise shot me a sharp look, as if she was wondering just what I had in mind. “Tea would be lovely, thanks. Saline?”

  “Yes, please,” Saline said.

  I nodded as I went to get the drinks. Louise had picked up that much etiquette, at least. If a guest was welcome, one offered a drink. I poured four mugs of tea, placed them on a tray and carried them back into the main room. Louise and Saline were sitting on the sofa, facing Francis. They still looked tense. I put the tray on the table and sat down myself. My mouth was dry. I wasn’t sure how to proceed.

  Louise broke the silence. “I’m sure you had a reason for inviting us here,” she said, dryly. “Can we get to it?”

  Francis snickered. “You have a more important social event to get to?”

  Louise flushed, angrily. “If you called us here to mock us ...”

  “I didn’t.” I shot a sharp look at Francis, reminding him to be nice. “I had something else in mind.”

  “Indeed.” Louise took her mug, but didn’t put it to her lips. “And that would be ...?”

  I took the plunge. “I’m taking the Challenge,” I said. “And I would like to ask you - both of you - to join my team.”

  Louise’s face went very hard. “If this is a joke, I swear I’ll ...”

  “It’s no joke.” I felt a pang of sympathy. Louise was abrasive - and bossy - but she had to feel very alone at times. She didn’t even have dormmates any longer. Saline was the closest thing to a friend she had and ... it couldn’t be a very satisfactory friendship. “I could use both of you.”

  She studied me for a long minute. I tried to look as open and honest as I could. She’d probably been pranked before, by people who wanted to irritate her ... she was, I suspected, one of the people who could never keep from rising to the bait. In some ways, she reminded me of Isabella. She’d never been very good at letting things go, either. But then, she’d also had power and position. Louise had none.

  “And you want us,” Louise mused. “Why us?”

  “You should be honoured,” Francis told her. “This is a great opportunity ...”

  “To have everyone laughing at me, again?” The bitterness in Louise’s voice was almost palpable. “Why should I do anything for you?”

  “Akin is an Heir Primus, soon to be Patriarch,” Francis pointed out. “You should be honoured that he has chosen you for his team.”

  “Shut up,” I said, before Louise could explode with rage or storm out. “What do you want?”

  Louise blinked. “What do I want?”

  “If you’re on the winning team, you’ll have ... opportunities that normally wouldn’t be open to you,” I told her. I’d looked it up. The victorious team members often did quite well for themselves. “I can’t guarantee a victory. But I can guarantee to make it worth your while. What do you want?”

  Her face remained blank, but I could tell she was interested. She’d learnt to control her face, yet ... she was leaning forward, betraying her interest. My mother would never have revealed so much to watching eyes. But then, my mother had nestled at the core of High Society for nearly four decades. Louise would always be an outsider, even if she married well.

  “What are you offering?” The studied disinterest in her voice would have been insulting, if I hadn’t known she didn’t mean it. “What can you give me?”

  I looked back at her evenly, daring her to put her cards on the table. “What would you like?”

  “He can give you anything.” Saline’s voice was soft, but it cut through the air like a charmed knife. I’d nearly forgotten she was there. “Your dreams, Louise. He can give you your dreams.”

  Louise coloured. “Akin ... are you serious?”

  “Yes.” I leaned forward. “What do you want?”

  I saw a flash of bitterness, mingled with desperate hope, cross her face. “I want ... I want to establish myself. I want to be something for myself, not because of who fathered me or my bloodline or ... or anything. I want to be important. I want to do good and ...”

  “On your own?” Francis cocked an eyebrow. “No one ever accomplished anything on their own.”

  “I don’t want to be dependent on others,” Louise said. “I just want to be me.”

  I bit down the urge to point out that Louise was already Louise. “What sort of good do you want to do?”

  “I want to make things better.” Louise looked down at her mug. She still hadn’t taken a sip. “I want to go into politics and make things better ...”

  “And everyone hates you,” Francis said, snidely. “You do have a habit of rubbing people the wrong way.”

  “I have to make myself heard,” Louise snapped. “Just because you have a list of titles as long as my arm ...”

  “That doesn’t mean you have to treat people like idiots.” Francis cut her off. “You talk down to people, all the time. And they resent it. You nag them to do something and they’ll decide not to do it, even if it means cutting off their nose to spite their face. They’ll hurt themselves because it’s the only way to keep from giving in to you.”

  “I tell them what they need to hear,” Louise insisted.

  “And they resent you for it.” Francis shrugged. “Why do you think you were never in the running for Head Girl?”

  Louise glared. “Because Alana has a powerful family?”

  “That’s part of it,” Francis conceded. “But you lack the ability to get along with your peers.”

  “But I’m right,” Louise said. “I ...”

  “It doesn’t matter.” I met her eyes. “Being right isn’t enough. If you want social credit - and influence, influence enough to get people to listen to you - you need to be liked. Or at least tolerated.”

  “And no one has to tolerate you,” Francis finished.

  “Including you, it would seem.” Louise crossed her arms under her breasts. “What would you suggest?”

  “You want to go into politics,” I mused. It made sense. A merchant’s daughter would have a reasonable chance of rising to power within the merchant’s guild, particularly if she had powerful friends and connections. “My patronage would help, I suppose, but it would also be a hindrance. You’d want to appear as independent as possible.”

  I studied her for a long moment. “I’ll help you learn how to make yourself respected, if not liked,” I said. It wasn’t going to be easy, but I could try. “And that would teach you how to build the connections you need if you want to go into politics.”

  Louise scowled. “I don’t want connections,” she said. “I want people to vote for me because they support me, not because of who I am.”

  “The two are intermingled.” I let out a long sigh, silently grateful that my father had drilled the facts of political life into my head. “If people don’t like you, they will be automatically prejudiced against anything you should happen to say. If you bombard them with facts and figures” - I’d read Louise’s essays, when I’d been assisting Magister Tallyman - “they will start to tune you out. And your opponents will not hesitate to take advantage of it. They’ll call you everything from a killjoy to a maiden aunt and mock you relentlessly.”

  “They do already,” Louise said.

  “Yes,” I agreed. “And you never fail to rise to the bait.”

  “You don’t have to like people,” Francis agreed. “But you do have to fool them into thinking you like them.”

  “That’s breathtakingly cynical,” Louise objected.

  Francis smirked. “But true.”

  “I can teach you,” I said. I’d have to give that some thought, but I was sure it could be done. “And if you join my team, I will.”

  “I want something else,” Louise said. “I want to be on one of the committees.”

  I hesitated. I could put her name forward - I could even insist on her being seated, if I was willing to horse-trade with Alana. But would it reflect well on me? Louise had many virtues, I
admitted privately, yet she didn’t play well with others. She’d either drive away the remainder of the committee, leaving her to do all the work herself, or push them into open rebellion. I’d heard stories about committee meetings that had turned into warzones, the staff being forced to intervene ... I scowled. That would not look good on my record. And yet, she had to start somewhere.

  “I’ll see,” I said, carefully. “Which one did you have in mind?”

  “I’m not sure.” Louise sounded surprised. Perhaps she’d thought I’d reject the idea out of hand. “Perhaps the TA committee? Or the Graduation committee? Or even the Yearbook committee?”

  “I’d have to think about that,” I mused. It would be difficult to get Louise on the TA committee, particularly as she hadn’t been a TA. The other two ... perhaps. I’d have to discuss it with Alana. “They start operating after half-term, so you’d have to wait anyway.”

  Louise met my eyes, challengingly. “You give me your word to do your best,” she said, “and I’ll join your team.”

  Saline nudged her, sharply. “Be careful ...”

  I held up a hand. “I’ll do my best,” I said. “But I can’t guarantee anything.”

  Francis nodded. “And he can’t put you on any of the sporting committees,” he said. “That’s my call.”

  Louise shuddered. “I hate sports.”

  “Really?” Francis leered cheerfully at me. “Looks like we’ve found you a bride.”

  I flushed in embarrassment. “I’m betrothed.”

  Francis laughed at his joke. Louise lifted her hand, as if she were about to hex him before thinking better of it. I was glad she didn’t. Francis would have hexed her back and then ... the entire team would have disintegrated before it ever got off the ground. Beside Louise, Saline looked as if she wanted to disappear. I didn’t blame her.

  I looked at Saline. “And what do you want?”

  “She wants help,” Louise said.

  I met her eyes. “I’m asking her,” I said. “Let her answer for herself.”

  Louise reddened, her eyes dropping to her knees. I winced, inwardly. It would take a long time to cure her of all her bad habits, time she probably didn’t have. I made a mental note to see if I could find her an etiquette teacher. They were normally expensive, at least to commoners, but there were plenty of people in the family who could help. They’d do it for me, if I became Wizard Regnant. They’d know I’d be Patriarch one day.

  Saline squeezed her friend’s arm, gently. “I know the magic,” she said haltingly, “but it only comes slowly. I need ... I need to work on my spells. I want to make my family proud.”

  I studied her, thoughtfully. There was nothing wrong with her power, just her ability to use it. She wasn’t stupid, just ... slow. It was odd, to say the least. Maybe she’d been moved ahead too quickly. It was dangerous to advance without a solid grasp of the fundamentals, the aspects of magic my parents had taught me from birth. If Saline had lost her grip on the fundamentals, she’d never master advanced magic. Or maybe she’d simply peaked. There were a few rare cases where a magician had reached a certain point and simply stopped advancing. But someone would have noticed ... wouldn’t they?

  “We can practice spells together,” I said. If nothing else, she could help us practice our spells before we were thrust into the Challenge. “And perhaps we can work our way through the textbooks.”

  Saline gave me a shy smile. “That would be very good, thank you.”

  I smiled back. “Will you join the team?”

  “We’ll both join the team,” Louise said, after a wordless glance with Saline. “And even if we lose ...”

  “You’ll be able to make something of it,” Francis said. “And if you don’t ... at least you’ll have a chance.”

  Louise - finally - took a sip of her tea. “So. What do we have to do for the Challenge? Because I looked it up and there’s next to nothing in the library, just a list of winners and losers and people who died during the game.”

  “You can’t find all the answers in books,” Francis said.

  “You can at least find out what people want you to know,” Louise countered. “Or think or believe or ... or whatever.”

  I nodded. A liar wouldn’t lie unless he wanted to be believed, Father had said. Knowing what someone was prepared to lie about was instructive, if one had time to think about it. I’d never really understood until I’d grown older. You could learn a great deal about someone by the lies they told.

  “They want us to be surprised,” Saline said, softly. “If we knew what we were doing, ahead of time, we could prepare.”

  “Obviously,” Francis said. “So what do we do?”

  I held up a hand. “They tell us that the whole game is a test of our abilities,” I said. “I think they’d want us to do more than simply duel the other teams. There must be a goal, a victory condition ...”

  “Perhaps it’s simply last man standing,” Francis said. “There are four teams right now, counting us. Perhaps we’re meant to fight it out with the others.”

  “I hope not,” Louise said. “It seems a little pointless.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded in agreement. “They’d want us to do more than just fight.”

  “And there would be no big secret around a fighting game,” Saline pointed out. “The people who watch football know the rules as well as the players.”

  Francis smiled. “You watch football?”

  “Sometimes.” Saline blushed. It looked oddly endearing on her light brown skin. “It can be relaxing.”

  “You must come to my next game.” Francis’s smile grew wider. “You’ll enjoy it.”

  Louise and I shared a look of perfect, mutual horror. It was not our idea of a good time.

  I cleared my throat. “First, we practice our spells ... both for duelling and everything else. Second, we work on preparing tools and equipment. We’re allowed to take whatever we can carry onto the field, as long as we make it for ourselves.”

  Francis smirked. “I didn’t make my clothes,” he said. “Does that mean we have to play naked?”

  “No.” Louise crossed her arms. “Definitely not.”

  “Probably not,” I said. “But we can’t bring in weapons and supplies from outside.”

  Francis sobered, rapidly. “Does that include your sword?”

  I blinked. I hadn’t thought about it, but ... did it include the sword?

  “I don’t know.” I wasn’t sure I wanted to check. I could claim innocence if no one told me I couldn’t take the sword. “We’ll see if they say anything about it.”

  “They may argue that bringing it is cheating,” Louise pointed out. “You should ask.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “So ... we start planning and practicing on the weekend?”

  “Saturday would be fine,” Louise said. “I ...”

  “I have sports,” Francis said, flatly. “Sunday.”

  “Sunday,” I agreed. I had a vague plan for Saturday, if Rose was around. “Louise? Saline? Is that alright?”

  “Yeah,” Louise said. “And” - she paused, rethinking whatever she had been going to say - “thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said. “And thank you too.”

  “Just don’t let us down.” Francis ignored the sharp look I sent him. “This isn’t a game.”

  “Then perhaps you should take it seriously,” Louise said, dryly. She stood. Saline followed her. “See you on Sunday.”

  “Well,” Francis said, when they were gone. “This should be interesting, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said. It wasn’t quite the word I would have chosen. “Interesting.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “I thought you’d be too busy to explore,” Rose said, after breakfast on Saturday morning. “I hear you have a team now.”

  I eyed her. “Where did you hear that?”

  Rose shrugged. “Oh, here and there. It’s no big secret, is it?”

  “I suppose not,” I said, as we walked down the corr
idor. “I wish you could join.”

  “I wish I could too,” Rose said. “But it isn’t possible.”

  I tried not to yawn. We’d only been back at school for a week and I already felt tired. The teachers had plunged us in at the deep end, barely taking a single period to review material we’d covered last year before leading us into the future. Advanced Potions with Magistra Loanda, Charms with Magister Grayson and Magister Von Rupert, even Forging with Magister Tallyman ... I’d barely had any time to myself. And what little time I had was spent being Head Boy. I supervised detentions, lectured a handful of lowerclassmen caught in upperclassman territory and a dozen other duties I hadn’t known about until I’d been given the job. No wonder it came with so much prestige. A successful Head Boy had a lot of work to do.