Schooled in Magic (66 page)

“Sergeant Harkin never crossed that line.

“Nor did he fall into the trap of going easy on some of his recruits because of their blood, or gender, or age. Those who graduated while under his care have gone on to spectacular careers, defending the Allied Lands against all manner of evil. His legacy lies in those he trained to defend the innocent.

“Like all of us who take up arms, he knew that he might one day die in the service of the Allied Lands. When death came, Sergeant Harkin not only accepted it bravely, but saw a way to turn his own death into a tactical advantage, a tactical advantage that eventually led to the death of a feared necromancer. He chose the manner of his death, knowing that one of his best students would be able to use it to win the day. Very few of us truly manage to die as bravely–and as well–as Sergeant Harkin.

“He was my friend and comrade and I will miss him terribly.”

Emily felt tears building in her eyes and tried to blink them away. Miles was right. Sergeant Harkin had known what he was doing, but it didn’t make her feel any less guilty. Even the praise she had just received from Miles didn’t help, nor would it change any minds. The other students would probably believe that she had killed Harkin in order to steal his life essence and use it for power.

Sergeant Miles stepped forward and threw a piece of earth into the grave. One by one, the pallbearers followed, covering the coffin in soil. Later, she’d been told, powerful charms would be cast on the gravestone to prevent the corpse from being reanimated by a powerful sorcerer or necromancer. And then the body–Sergeant Harkin’s body - would slowly decompose into the soil and bring new life to Whitehall.

The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur, ending with a dismissal to their private thoughts. Emily wandered away from the rest of the crowd, heading towards the zoo–or what was left of it. CT moved through the wrecked plant beds, growing new tentacles in an attempt to clean up the mess, but it seemed like the work of years. Beyond him, the zoo had been completely torn apart. Dead animals were scattered everywhere.

A tentacle touched her shoulder and she jumped. “They found no trace of the Mimic,” CT said. His single giant eye peered down at her. “It could be anywhere by now, but they want to search the area thoroughly, just in case. Maybe there will be a clue to its new form.”

Emily shivered. A student, or an Orc, could have wandered into the Mimic’s range and been sucked dry while the Mimic took on his form and memories. Unaware of it’s true nature, it would have wandered out and escaped, only recovering when it ran out of life force and had to resume its true form. It could be anywhere by now.

She found herself looking up at CT and wondering if she was staring at the Mimic, before remembering that CT had been frozen solid by the invading army. The Mimic would have needed to duplicate a more mobile form to escape.

“They also butchered a dozen unicorns and centaurs,” CT added after a moment. “You can use their blood and bones in the darkest of arts. I fear we shall see the results of their harvesting soon.”

“Yeah,” Emily muttered.

The unicorns had been
sweet
, and almost holy. They didn’t deserve to be butchered like wild animals. The centaurs weren’t so nice–they forced themselves on human women to breed more centaurs, which was why the girls had been warned never to go near them–but they were true to their nature. Even they hadn’t deserved to be torn apart by Orcs and have their bodies harvested by Dark Wizards.

But maybe Shadye hadn’t sent the harvested items away from Whitehall before he died. There was no way to know for sure.

She thanked CT and walked away from the zoo, unsure of exactly where she was going. The grounds had been twisted somehow, a result of the struggle for control of the school’s interior dimensions. One of the
Ken
playing fields had been destroyed; the other had been left largely intact, but damaged to the point where playing a full game would be difficult. Several third-years were trying their best anyway, tossing balls around with spells and tools that reassembled baseball bats. They caught sight of Emily and stared at her before doing their best to ignore her. It would have been funny, Emily decided, if it hadn’t been happening to her.

“They are always scared of rogue talents,” a familiar male voice said from behind her. “You can’t blame them.”

Emily jumped and spun around, lifting one hand in a defensive stance. Void stood there, smiling rather thinly as the bubble of accelerated time caught both of them. Emily relaxed–slightly–and looked back towards the third-years. They looked frozen, stopped dead. She knew it was an illusion.

“This can’t be good for us,” she said carefully. “Aren’t we growing older while they remain frozen in time?”

“There was a Dark Wizard who trapped himself in one of these bubbles and aged to death,” Void said. “But he managed to bungle the spell. This one won’t last long enough for our aging to matter.”

Emily shrugged, then waited.

“Shadye’s ... brethren have been rather shocked by his death,” Void told her. “You’re the first person
ever
to beat a necromancer in single combat.” He gave her a knowing look. “And believe me, that scares them.”

“I cheated,” Emily admitted.

“Only way to win,” Void said. “But necromancers being necromancers, they are unlikely to believe that you cheated, even if they couldn’t imagine you winning
without
cheating. You managed to scare them ... and
that
gives the Allied Lands a chance to rebuild their defenses.”

“Someone is going to have to find the tunnel near the Dark City,” Emily said. That raised its own problems; someone else might stumble into the Unseelie Court and receive a less friendly reception from the fairies. Maybe the Grandmaster could talk to them and offer to declare the entire area off-limits in exchange for the location of the tunnel. “And who knows how many other surprises they might have been working on?”

“We don’t know,” Void admitted. His lips twitched into a smile. “And everyone is
still
calling you a Child of Destiny.

Emily groaned. “Am I a Child of Destiny?”

“The perfectly truthful answer would be
yes
,” Void pointed out. He smiled at her expression. “But are you a Child of Destiny in the sense they mean?”

He shrugged. “Can anyone
really
answer that question? And does it really matter?”

“I don’t know,” Emily admitted. “I ... I just feel odd having people either hanging on my every word or being terrified of me.”

“Enjoy it,” Void advised. “This world is not always kind to the powerless.”

“No,” Emily agreed. “It isn’t.”

They stood together in silence for a long moment. “I meant to ask,” Emily said. “Can you bring something from my world here?”

“Maybe,” Void said, after a bit of thought. “But I’d prefer not to suggest to the necromancers that they can bring items from other worlds. It would only give them ideas.”

“I need some textbooks,” Emily explained. “There are so many things that would be useful here, if I could only remember how to make them. But I am
ignorant
! I should have studied more at school.”

“A very good idea,” Void agreed dryly.

He looked down at the ground, thoughtfully. “There are ...
problems
inherent in using entities to bring anything from one world to another,” he added, after a moment’s silent contemplation. “It may be possible. It may not be possible. I will consider it carefully and contact you when I know what to do.”

Emily nodded, suspecting that was all the answer she was going to get.

“Something else, then,” she said. “What are
you
?”

Void smirked. “A rogue talent,” he said. “Somewhat naturally more powerful than the average magician. There was a ...
disagreement
about how to cope with a situation and I ended up being told that I was no longer welcome at Whitehall. I left, changed my name and became an independent operative.
Someone
had to keep poking and prodding at the necromancers to keep them fighting each other.”

He shrugged. “The rest of the story isn’t particularly interesting. But I’m sure you will have fun looking through the public records and trying to put it all together.”

One finger tapped the bubble around them, which was beginning to flicker. “You nearly killed a Royal Princess, and then you saved her life–and convinced her that she should be a better person. You introduced all kinds of new ideas which will shake up the world, and destroyed at least one guild which held a stranglehold on progress. You were manipulated into allowing a necromancer into Whitehall, the most strongly-warded building in the Allied Lands, and then you defeated him, all on your own.”

He smiled. “Tell me ...what are you going to do for an encore?”

Emily shook her head. “I don’t know,” she admitted. She had ideas she didn’t want to talk about, even to Void. “Maybe I don’t really have a destiny after all.”

Void’s smile grew wider. “You know what I think?” He asked, as the bubble began to splinter into nothingness. “I think you’ve only just begun.”

The End

Christopher G. Nuttall is thirty years old–and has been reading science fiction since he was five, when someone introduced him to children’s SF. Born in Scotland, Chris attended schools in Edinburgh, Fife and University in Manchester ... before moving to Malaysia to live with his wife Aisha.

Chris has been involved in the online Alternate History community since 1998; in particular, he was the original founder of Changing The Times, an online alternate history website that brought in submissions from all over the community. Later, Chris took up writing and eventually became a full-time writer. Schooled in Magic is his first title with Twilight Times Books.

Website: http://www.chrishanger.net/

Blog: http://chrishanger.wordpress.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ChristopherGNuttall

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