Trial By Fire (Schooled in Magic Book 7) (13 page)

“No, they don’t have
that
much power,” Caleb said. He placed his bag on the table and started to pull out the mass-produced pieces of spell mosaics. “The worst they can do is report troublemakers to the House Mothers or Fathers.”

Emily winced. Alassa would have a choice between doing her duty, which would earn her a reputation as a sneak, or not doing her duty and being punished for failure. It wasn’t something Emily would have wanted, not when her natural instinct was to shy away from confrontation. But would she have said no if she’d been asked?

“I’m sure she’ll do a good job,” she said, instead. “Did you get approval to have the rest of the mosaics produced in Dragon’s Den?”

“We’ll be responsible for paying for them, but yes,” Caleb said. “We have to submit a list of expenses at the end of the year, I think; if they agree we spent the money on items related to the project, they’ll give us a refund.”

Emily nodded, slowly. “Good,” she said. It was almost a shame that Yodel had moved to Cockatrice, but there were other enchanters - and blacksmiths, and woodcarvers - in Dragon’s Den. “Have you found any likely candidates?”

“We’ll have to go visit the city, probably towards the end of the month,” Caleb said. “Unless we can convince the tutors to let us go early...”

“Maybe,” Emily said. Fifth and Sixth Year students could visit Dragon’s Den at any time, but First to Fourth Years could only go in a set rota. Their first weekend in Dragon’s Den, according to the timetable, was two weeks off. “We could
try
to convince them that you really should be in Fifth Year.”

“I don’t think the Grandmaster would be impressed,” Caleb said. “I’m
not
a Fifth Year student.”

Emily nodded reluctantly, and started to set up the wok. It had been years since her first lecture, but Professor Thande hadn’t hesitated to call out anyone who forgot how to prepare to make a potion, let alone basic safety precautions. She checked the recipe - she doubted she could brew it from memory - and lined up the ingredients in neat little rows. Once she needed to add them, she recalled from painful experience, there would be no time to fetch them from the cupboard.

“I’m not sure how much help I’ll be,” Caleb said, apologetically. “My hands...”

“Don’t worry about it,” Emily said.
She
wouldn’t have cared to try to brew even a
basic
potion with shaky hands. Adding too much of almost anything would probably lead to an explosion. “Once the
Manaskol
is brewed, I’ll need to dab it on the wood very quickly.”

“I’ll set them up over here,” Caleb said. He moved his bag to the second table, starting to pull the pieces of wood and iron out onto the table. Emily couldn’t help being reminded of custard creams; a piece of wood on each side, glued together by the
Manaskol
. But the
Manaskol
would hold the spell components, just ready and raring to go. “How long should this take?”

“Not long,” Emily said. She pulled her wand from the bag, placed it on the table, and lit the heat under the wok. “I’ll get started now.”

Alchemy had never been her favorite subject, not when it was sometimes dangerously unpredictable, but she had to admit there was something almost relaxing about putting the ingredients together to create a magical effect. The liquid started to bubble almost at once, then turned a dark golden color as she added more ingredients; moments later, she reached for the wand and used it to stir the brew, watching as magic flowed into the liquid. It started to bubble alarmingly - Emily braced herself, ready to dive beneath the table at the first sign of an impending explosion - and then settled. A sheen of magic shimmered over the wok as she put out the heat and used the wand to part the liquid. It slowly congealed into something resembling glue.

“It’s ready,” she said.

“You’re good at this,” Caleb said with open admiration. “I managed to blow myself up.”

Emily blushed. “Practice,” she said. Whitehall’s students were introduced to
Manaskol
in Fourth Year, a year later than Mountaintop’s. Caleb had needed to learn to brew the potion very quickly, just so he could use it for himself. Haste, in this case, had led to disaster. “I spent half of Third Year learning to brew it.”

“Thank you,” Caleb said. “You might have made the difference between success and failure!”

He reached for a brush, picked up a piece of wood and carefully dabbed the
Manaskol
onto the rune carved into it. The
Manaskol
settled quickly; he hastily picked up a second piece of wood and jammed it on top of the first. Emily watched as the glue-like material gummed up, locking the pieces of wood together, smiling as it became clear it had worked.

They now had a working spell mosaic.

“We have one piece,” Caleb said. “Can you start putting together the others? Make sure the runes match or...or
something
will happen.”

Emily smiled - that
something
was probably
nothing
- and did as she was told. It wasn’t easy putting the pieces together, but she kept working on it until she thought she had mastered the skill. Caleb put several more together - his hands shook at one point, causing him to lose his grip on one of the pieces of wood - and turned his attention to the larger pieces of wood, the ones that would have to be carved up once they were stuck together. It wasn’t long until they had something that looked like a flattened sandwich.

“We can’t use magic to cut them,” Caleb said. “I’m going to have to take this one down to the woodcarver and see what he makes of it.”

“True,” Emily agreed.

She contemplated it for a long moment.
Manaskol
conducted magic. Even something as minor as a charmed blade would react badly when it touched the liquid. How had it been done on Earth? A powered fretsaw would be perfect, but she knew there was no way she could produce one in time to be useful. Unless...she
could
make a very thin blade and try to use it to cut the wood. Or would that count as magic?

“We might be able to make a very thin blade,” she said, carefully. Maybe it would be better not to discuss molecules, even though part of her wanted to show off, to impress him. It was only a short step from molecules to atoms and then to something that might split those atoms and release a flash of energy. “But it might just be touched by magic.”

“We could probably experiment,” Caleb agreed. “Can you bottle the remaining
Manaskol
? I think we’ll need more of it in the future.”

Emily nodded, carefully pouring the liquid into a charmed bottle. Professor Thande had demonstrated, once, that they were unbreakable by anything short of greater magic. He’d also outlined, in loving detail, just what kind of disasters they could expect by shattering several bottles in close proximity, allowing the contents to mix together. They’d be lucky, he’d concluded, if they survived the experience.

“Done,” she said, capping the bottle with the ease of long practice. The golden liquid inside seemed to be shimmering gently, sending waves of light into the room. “It’ll be ready when we need it.”

“Better make sure no one else takes it,” Caleb suggested. “That’s worth a small fortune in itself.”

“We can always sell it if we end up with too much,” Emily agreed. She opened a cupboard, linked it to her magical signature to ensure no one else could open it without permission, and placed the bottle inside. “It’s supposed to be good for paying a year’s taxes.”

“That’s true in Beneficence,” Caleb said, as she walked back to the table. “Mother brews a big wok every year, then gives it to the Guildsmen. They’re always very grateful.”

He picked up the first spell mosaic, held it so she could see the rune, and carefully placed it on the table between them. Emily watched as he put together the next five pieces as carefully as if they were part of a simple jigsaw puzzle, without ever quite allowing them to touch. Piece by piece, the runes on the top spelled out a diagram, a flowchart of commands for magic. Emily remembered Mistress Irene’s patient lessons, back when she’d first come to Whitehall, and smiled. In some ways, it was like going back to First Year and returning to first principles.

“It’s harder to recall how to do this now,” Caleb confessed. “Casting spells has become second nature to me.”

“Me too,” Emily said. Once, she’d had to work her way through the variables before casting the spell; now, casting a spell was largely a matter of instinct. No wonder Basic Charms was such a vital class, she reminded herself. Without a good understanding of the underlying theory of magic, the student would be forever crippled. “But this isn’t that different from using a wand.”

“It is,” Caleb objected. “A wand will only cast the spell embedded in it, unless you overpower the spell and the wand explodes. Here, we can craft the spell and channel magic into the mosaic.”

He put the final piece in place and looked up at her. “Does that look suitable?”

Emily walked around to stand beside him, then worked her way through the spell components, one by one. The light spell was one of the simplest spells she’d learned in First Year, yet - with a little bit of work - it could be alarmingly complex. Mistress Irene had taught her that everything from brightness to the light globe’s position could be altered, simply by altering the variables within the spell. But she couldn’t see anything wrong with Caleb’s work.

“I think so,” she said. “Nothing should happen if you put them together, not now.”

Caleb nodded, carefully assembling the mosaic. It occurred to Emily - too late - that the
Manaskol
might not have dried, that the pieces might remain stuck together. If that had happened, they’d have to make more...she cursed inwardly, and watched to see what would happen. Next time, they’d be more careful.

“There,” Caleb said, once the pieces were linked together. “Do you want to do the honors?”

“You can,” Emily said. She’d already made the
Manaskol
and besides, the spell mosaics were his idea. “I’ll watch from here.”

Caleb nodded, and carefully pressed his fingertips against the first piece. Emily closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her senses, opening them again once she felt a flow of magic spilling from Caleb into the wood. There was a long second when nothing happened - she wondered if they’d made a mistake somewhere - and then a light globe shimmered into existence, hanging over the table. Emily took one look and
knew
they’d done something wrong. Instead of the soft light they’d ordered, the light globe was so bright it hurt her eyes and it wobbled erratically on its axis. She covered her eyes hastily as the temperature rose sharply, and yanked Caleb back as the light started to flicker into a color she could only call nasty. And then there was a small explosion on the table as the globe snapped out of existence.

Caleb shoved her to the floor as the table shuddered a second time, blowing pieces of sawdust into the air.

“Drat,” Caleb said, as he rolled off her. “I...”

“At least we got something,” Emily said, reassuringly. His touch had felt...odd. “We know we’re doing
something
right.”

She blinked hard - spots danced in front of her eyes - before sitting upright and looking at the mess they’d made. The table seemed intact - it was made of solid iron, after all - but the pieces of wood they’d glued together had been shattered into their component atoms. It was impossible to tell which piece had exploded first, yet it had clearly set off the others. She stood, then frowned. Apart from a small scar to the metal, there was no evidence they’d done
anything
on the table.

“The variables may need to be altered for the mosaic,” Caleb said, looking down at his fingertips. “Or maybe I didn’t manage to charge them properly.”

“Or maybe we used too much
Manaskol
,” Emily said. She wasn’t sure how they could produce something industry-standard, not with just the two of them, but it should be possible. “Or the power you pumped in was simply too much for the spell.”

“That sounds possible,” Caleb said, doubtfully.

He sat down at the table and checked his notes. “We spent five years learning how to channel magic through our minds and wards,” he said. “How long has it been since we were truly
precise
?”

“Years,” Emily agreed. “We should probably rebuild the spell mosaics, then practice with the spell until we only channel the bare minimum of power. Or” - she glanced at the wand, lying next to the wok - “practice with a wand instead.”

Caleb shuddered. “Too dangerous, I would have thought,” he said. “But it might be workable.”

“Maybe we can set up runes to draw excess power away from the spell,” Emily offered diffidently. She was fairly sure Professor Thande wouldn’t thank them for contaminating one of his workrooms with excess magic. Alchemy was dangerous enough without stray magic disrupting the process. “Even channel it back into the mosaic and keep the spell going...”

“It might work,” Caleb said. He scribbled out a spell diagram on a piece of paper, and studied it thoughtfully. “There would probably still be some leakage. Perhaps if we nailed the pieces of wood together?”

“They’d explode under the pressure,” Emily said. Pieces of wood flying around would be bad enough, but pieces of metal would be actively dangerous. “Maybe if we piled one set of mosaics on top of another.”

“It’s something to consider,” Caleb agreed. “We’ll clean up now, and plot the next stage in the library.”

Emily nodded. Together, they cleared up the remains of the wooden tiles and cleaned up the wok before returning it to the alchemy storeroom. Professor Thande was used to losing caldrons and woks, but he wouldn’t hesitate to bill them for any damage caused outside the planned lessons. Caleb checked his notes, muttered a duplicating charm, and passed Emily the spare copy. Emily took it gratefully and stuffed it in her pocket, then checked her watch.

“Nearly dinnertime,” she said. “Are you coming?”

“I will,” Caleb said. He hesitated. “Emily?”