Trial By Fire (Schooled in Magic Book 7) (10 page)

“Paperwork,” Master Grey said, bluntly.

So you won’t be working with Sergeant Miles and the other Martial Magic students
, Emily thought, feeling a flicker of despair.
You’ll only have to worry about making our lives miserable.

Aloha nodded. “And are we allowed to ask you questions?”

“If they’re valid questions,” Master Grey said. “Waste my time, just once, and you will regret it.”

Emily nodded.
That
, at least, wasn’t an uncommon attitude at Whitehall. Help might be provided, if a student needed it, but only after the student had become well and truly stuck. A tutor who felt his time had been deliberately wasted wouldn’t take it very well.

Master Grey cleared his throat. “Lady Emily? Do you have any questions?”

Emily met his eyes...and fought down the urge to take a step backwards. “No, sir.”

“Good,” Master Grey said. He looked at Aloha, then back at Emily. “I have been assigned an office next to the Armory. Should you think of any questions -
valid
questions - you may find me there, during the school day. I will be residing in Dragon’s Den at night.”

He paused, as if he was waiting to see if they were going to ask any questions, then smiled coldly.

“You are dismissed,” he said, quietly. “I will see you on Thursday.
Do not
be late.”

Emily nodded, then turned and hurried out of the office. Aloha followed her, her dark face glowing with excitement.
She
was happy, but it was hard for Emily not to feel a pang of jealousy, mixed with fear. If she’d been injured a dozen times with Sergeant Miles supervising, a man who liked her, who knew what would happen when Master Grey took the helm? She found herself breathing hard as the door closed behind them, as if she was on the verge of a panic attack. Why hadn’t anyone
warned
her?

“Emily?” Aloha said. Her voice sounded tinny, as if it were coming from a far distance. “Emily? Are you all right?”

“No,” Emily said. She felt sick...she swallowed hard, cursing the porridge she’d had for breakfast. Maybe she shouldn’t have eaten at all. “I...”

Aloha caught her arm. “Do you want me to carry you to the infirmary?”

“
No
,” Emily said, shaking her head violently. Hair spilled out of her neat ponytail and over her eyes. “I don’t. I...”

“I should,” Aloha said. She half-pulled Emily into a sideroom, then closed the door firmly and erected a privacy ward. “Sit down and take several deep breaths.”

Emily forced herself to calm down, trying to understand her feelings. Master Grey scared her...but so had Sergeant Harkin, once, and she’d never had such a reaction to
him
! Indeed, she’d almost come to think of the sergeant as a father figure before his untimely death. But Master Grey...she felt her body starting to shake again, no matter how hard she tried to calm herself and focus her thoughts. That damned Nightmare Hex had brought far too much bubbling out of the back of her mind.

But you’re not scared of your stepfather any longer
, she told herself.
Why are you scared of Master Grey
?

“I need you to tell me what’s wrong,” Aloha said. The excited light was gone from her eyes, replaced by concern. “Tell me or I call Lady Barb.”

“That’s not fair,” Emily muttered, resentfully.

“All’s fair in love, war and magical research,” Aloha countered. She knelt down next to Emily and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “What
happened
in there?”

“He hates me,” Emily confessed. It wasn’t something she wanted to talk about, but Aloha wasn’t giving her a choice. “He...he thinks I’m like...like my father.”

“Quite a few people think that,” Aloha observed.

“He hates me,” Emily repeated.

“You certainly had quite a bad reaction to him,” Aloha agreed. “But I don’t think he actually
hates
you. Why would he have taken time out of his schedule to teach us if he hated you?”

“Maybe he just wanted to teach
you
,” Emily said. She could understand why, too. Aloha was brilliant; she’d make a fine apprentice, then a mistress in her own right. Master Grey could really make something of her, if he wished. “Maybe the Grandmaster just insisted on adding me to the list.”

Aloha snorted. “You’re the Necromancer’s Bane,” she said, sarcastically. “Who
wouldn’t
want a chance to call you their apprentice?”

“I don’t know,” Emily said. Surely it could have been Sergeant Miles? Or Lady Barb? Or someone with no history with her at all? Why a man who hated the very ground she walked on, who considered her a national menace? “I...”

She gritted her teeth, then forced herself to calm down. Her robes were drenched in sweat; she’d have to go back to the bedroom and shower before lunchtime, then Healing. There would be a chance to talk to Lady Barb afterwards, she was sure. Lady Barb was her Advisor, after all. She might be able to offer useful advice.

“Emily,” Aloha said slowly, “I think you’re panicking over nothing. They wouldn’t have let him in the school if they thought he was dangerous.”

“I know,” Emily said. “But I...”

“I didn’t like Mistress Irene, either,” Aloha admitted. “She was too strict, too ready to resort to punishment if someone didn’t listen. But she taught me a great deal about how to do charms. Even now, I still dislike her, but she’s someone I can
learn
from.”

Emily nodded in silent understanding. Aloha had worked for her genius, for the brilliance the tutors feted; she’d worked so hard, she’d been allowed to enter Martial Magic in her Second Year. Emily still shuddered at the thought of the argument they’d had, back when
she’d
been pushed into Martial Magic in her
First
Year. Aloha had threatened her with a fate worse than death if she let the side down. She hadn’t been the only one.

“You can learn from Master Grey too,” Aloha added. “Even if he doesn’t like you, and he clearly has some doubts about you, you can still learn from him.”

And if I don’t
, Emily thought,
you’ll be mad at me
.

She swallowed, then rose to her feet. “I’ll do my best,” she said, looking at the papers in her hand. She’d clenched her fist so hard that they were crumpled, almost torn, but they were still readable. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Aloha said. “
Ever
.”

E
MILY STEPPED THROUGH THE DOOR INTO
the Healing classroom and stopped dead as she took in the scene. Lady Barb had changed everything, again. Instead of the neat rows of chairs and tables, all facing the front of the class, the chairs and tables had been drawn into a circle, surrounding the central table. The walls were covered, once again, with drawings of human anatomy, while two skeletons hung from the ceiling. Emily eyed them nervously, remembering Shadye’s servants, but forced herself to relax. Lady Barb was hardly the kind of person to be experimenting with Death Magics.

“Be seated,” Lady Barb ordered. She was seated behind a desk, wearing an expression of disapproval as she worked through her notes. She would have had the Second Years earlier, Emily recalled; boys and girls who were just trying her class before deciding if they wanted to commit themselves to a year of study. Half of them probably wouldn’t return after the first couple of days. “We have a lot of ground to cover and not much time.”

Emily nodded - thankfully, Healing was her first and only class of the day - and took a seat in the middle of the room. Moments later, Alassa and Imaiqah hurried in, followed by the Gorgon and Melissa. Melissa sat at the opposite side of the room, not entirely to Emily’s surprise, although there seemed to be a new distance between her and her former cronies. They’d all come from magical families and, now that Melissa had been disowned, probably had orders not to remain her friend. Emily felt a brief stab of pity, then looked away. Melissa wouldn’t want anything from her, not when she already owed Emily so much.

“Missed you at dinner,” Alassa said, softly. “Where were you?”

“I ate first,” Emily said. She’d also showered and changed - and Alassa, who was more perceptive than most people gave her credit for, would probably have noticed her disheveled appearance after visiting the Grandmaster’s office. “Talk about it later, all right?”

The classroom filled quickly, but there was plenty of room for everyone. Only a dozen students had stuck around to take Fourth Year Healing, even though Emily definitely recalled having twice that number in Third Year. It was the hardest course in Whitehall, though; it was quite possible that the other students had failed or had been advised to repeat Third Year before moving on to the next level. She opened her desk, retrieved the latest set of textbooks, and glanced at them while Lady Barb counted down the final moments. The books seemed to cover more advanced healing spells than anything she’d seen before, as well as a number of non-magical techniques.

I wonder if I was the only one who went on walkabout after Second Year
, Emily thought, looking at the class. Alassa and Imaiqah had gone back to Zangaria, the Gorgon to the desert...but what about the others? She’d been taken to the Cairngorms, so she could see the world and what might be required of a Healer; the others could easily have had the same experience, if in a different place.
They might have tried to show us all what it was like to be a Healer
.

“Well,” Lady Barb said. She rose to her feet, a thin smile on her face. “It’s the start of class and two people are missing?”

Emily heard the sounds of running footsteps, then turned her head to stare as Tam and Penelope, their faces flushed, practically threw themselves through the door in an attempt to beat the clock. Lady Barb scowled at them, pointed a long finger at their chairs, and nodded at the door. It slammed closed and locked with an audible click.

“For future reference,” she said, “the doors will be locked at the precise moment the class starts. Anyone who happens to arrive late, as I am
sure
I have told you before, can report to the Warden and then engage in private study. Repeated lateness will result in the person responsible being dismissed from the class. They will probably not be allowed to retake Healing next year.”

She strode back to the table and stood, clasping her hands behind her back in a decidedly military manner. “The only reason I am being merciful now” - she threw Tam and Penelope a sharp glance that made them cringe - “is because I have a great deal of material to cover with you. By the end of this term, you will need to make choices and I, as your tutor, need to ensure you have the knowledge you need to
make
those choices.

“Some of you will not study Healing after this year,” she continued. “You will be allowed to add Healing qualifications to your name, should you pass the exams, but you will not be ranked a full-fledged Healer. Those of you who
do
wish to move on to become a Healer will be expected to take the oaths at the start of Fifth Year, then spend two years preparing for an apprenticeship and another year - at least - as an apprentice, before being unleashed upon the world. I should remind you, in case you missed it when you read the briefing notes, that Healing oaths are permanent. You will still be bound by them even if you flunk out of Fifth Year.

“The oaths will be administered by a Quorum of Healers who will visit Whitehall at the start of your Fifth Year. They will also ask you a number of searching questions while you are under the influence of various truth spells and potions. Should they find something that disqualifies you from becoming a Healer, they will refuse to consider you as a potential candidate. I am obliged to point out, for the record, that while confidentiality is included in the oaths, a person denied a chance to study will raise eyebrows.”

People will start wondering why
, Emily thought.

Lady Barb opened a drawer and removed a handful of packets. “These contain an outline of the oaths, an outline of the questions they will ask you and details concerning your next two years of lessons, should you decide to continue,” she said, handing them out one by one. “It is no shame to decide you cannot go any further, but if you are unlikely to be accepted there is no point in going for the oaths. Read these papers now - I am required to certify you actually held them in your hands - and then ask any questions, should you wish to do so.”

Because if we don’t read them, it’s our fault
, Emily thought, as she opened the packet. There were only a handful of papers inside.
You don’t get blamed for our stupidity, just for not giving us the option to learn
.

She pulled out the first page and skimmed it. It was a brief outline of the Fifth and Sixth Year Healing classes, covering topics from curse removal - she’d already done
some
curse removal - to mundane healing methods and surgery. It looked as though any prospective Healers would spend half of each week in class, or out on field trips. A number of items mentioned on the list were completely unfamiliar, although a couple did jog her memory. She resolved to use a memory charm to dig up the thought later, and moved on to the second paper.

“I can’t qualify,” Alassa said. “I’m sworn to my father.”

Emily nodded, scanning the second paper quickly. A prospective Healer had to separate himself from any formal obligations to his family, ranging from accepting debts and inheritances to carrying on a family feud. She couldn’t see many children from magical families accepting the oaths, unless there were plenty of potential replacements. Alassa, an only child, couldn’t abandon King Randor and Zangaria.

“You can still complete this year,” Emily reminded her. She’d had only one year of training when she’d gone to the Cairngorms, but she’d managed to make herself useful. “It might be helpful in later life.”

“I don’t think I’ll have time to minister to the ill,” Alassa said.

“It might make you very popular,” Imaiqah said from the other side. “Helping...”