Trial By Fire (Schooled in Magic Book 7) (24 page)

“I left it in Cockatrice,” Emily said. Queen Marlena had sent her more dresses than she cared to think about, each one worth at least a hundred gold coins. “If I have to wear something else, I’ll wear the dark blue or black dress.”

“Black would make you look far too sombre,” Alassa said. She plucked another blue dress out of the wardrobe and peered at it. “Maybe this one, if you don’t mind.”

Emily sighed and gave in. “Do you two
have
to dress me?”

“You need to look good,” Imaiqah said, mischievously. She started to chew her fingernails again before she deliberately stopped herself. “You’ll be right next to us, remember?”

“No,” Emily said, burying her head under the blanket. Maybe she could tell Caleb she was sick, or...part of her just wanted to run and hide. “I should have said no.”

Imaiqah pulled back the blanket. “You may discover that you’re better off as friends,” she said, “or you may find that he holds the key to your heart. Or you may just have fun. But you really
won’t
get anywhere if you don’t try.”

“You sound like Lady Barb,” Emily said. She sat up, swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. Her body felt tired, too tired. If she hadn’t agreed to meet Caleb, she would have stayed in bed much longer. “I’ll shower, then I can dress.”

“Let us help,” Imaiqah said. She took the dress from Alassa and held it against Emily’s body. “It shouldn’t need more than a handful of minor adjustments.”

Emily and Alassa shared a look. Emily had never learned to sew on Earth - her mother had never taught her - while Alassa, whose mother loved dressmaking, had never bothered to learn. It hadn’t occurred to Emily, until Alassa had admitted it, that not being able to sew was unusual for an aristocratic girl. Their lives were normally so restricted, sewing was one of the few pastimes they were allowed to indulge in without limit. Imaiqah might come from commoner stock, but she knew more about sewing and mending clothes than both Emily and Alassa put together.

“I’ll have a shower,” Emily grumbled. “And then I can dress myself, thank you.”

But her friends proved relentless. As soon as she was washed and dried, Imaiqah made her don the dress, inspecting it closely before Emily took it off, then started alterations with her needle and thread. Emily sighed, pulled her undergarments on, and waited for Imaiqah to finish her work. She had to admit, once she’d pulled on the dress and inspected herself in the mirror, that it flattered her figure. But it was really too tight around her chest for comfort, even if everything was decently covered.

“You look good,” Alassa said. “All that exercise must be building up your muscles.”

Emily groaned. Master Grey might have been working on building up her strength, but it came with a price. She worked her way through one set of exercises, then a slightly longer set...by the time she was done with each session, her body was aching even when they hadn’t sparred physically. And then there was the constant humiliation as he pointed out her mistakes, time and time again. If she hadn’t been so resolved to continue...

“I suppose,” she said. She would never be as muscular as Aloha, let alone Lady Barb. It was a weakness, Master Grey had insisted, which needed to be understood. “Did Jade work on building up
your
muscles?”

“That may be the Royal Bloodline.” Alassa flexed her arms thoughtfully. “I was always physically strong for my age.” She sighed, before adding, “Good luck. Next time, you can go on a double-date with Jade and I.”

Emily had a feeling that would be awkward as hell, but she kept that thought to herself. On Earth, dating a boy who’d dated one of her friends - if she’d had friends - would have been very difficult. Alassa, on the other hand, seemed to accept it as normal. Being on the marriage market from a very early age, as soon as her father had been sure she’d survive her childhood, was probably far stranger. Alassa had been engaged to a dozen separate princes and then had the engagements broken before she’d been old enough to grasp what she might have to do.

Imaiqah kept a hand on Emily’s arm, as if she was afraid Emily would bolt, as they walked down to the courtyard. Caleb waited by one of the coaches, looking as nervous as Emily felt. He stared at Emily, as if he wasn’t quite sure where to look, his face flushing with embarrassment. Oddly, that made Emily feel better. Imaiqah had pointed out that he might feel as nervous as she, perhaps more so.

“It’s a guy thing,” she’d said, and followed up with an example so crude she’d made Emily blush. “They’re as nervous as us girls, Emily; they just show it differently.”

“I’m glad you made it,” he stammered. “You look great.”

Emily flushed. “Thank you,” she said. “So do you.”

Caleb blushed, too.

“You can both get in the coach,” Imaiqah said. She waved to a young man, a year or so older than her, wearing dark robes. “Emily, Caleb; this is William.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Emily said. William wasn’t the first of Imaiqah’s boyfriends she’d actually met, but he was the first who’d actually been
named
. They came and went so quickly that Emily had given up trying to keep track of them. “Shall we go?”

The ride down to Dragon’s Den felt shorter than Emily remembered, but that was something of a relief. William wasn’t a bad person, she was sure, yet there was something about him that put her teeth on edge, even though she wasn’t sure why. She forced herself to remember that Imaiqah could look after herself, and watched through the window as the coach pulled through the gates and into the city. Imaiqah led the way out onto the streets - they smelled as bad as Emily remembered - and down towards a small eatery.

“This place serves the best food in the city,” Imaiqah said, as they walked through the door. “And it is one of the nicest places to visit, if you happen to be a couple.”

Emily frowned as the door closed behind them, feeling oddly trapped. It was warm inside, with a small band playing in the corner and a couple of pretty waitresses on duty. They’d probably be the owner’s daughters, Emily figured; they would have been working for their father since the day they were old enough to hold a mop or wipe dishes. One of the waitresses spoke briefly to Imaiqah, then escorted the small party through a side door and into a garden. The rear of the building was surprisingly nice - and deserted.

“You can order what you like,” Imaiqah said, “but I’d recommend you share a couple of dishes. That would let you have a taste of two different meals.”

She pointed Emily and Caleb to one table, and sat down with William at another. Emily felt a spark of panic - she’d assumed they’d all be sharing a table - but did as she was told. The wooden chair felt hard beneath her; she opened the menu and skimmed down the short list of selections. They probably cooked the food from scratch, she reasoned. She doubted they could afford an enchanted cabinet primed with preservation spells.

“I’m not sure what to eat,” Caleb confessed. “What do you recommend?”

Emily shrugged. Dragon’s Den was the most cosmopolitan city in the Nameless World - or, at least, the most cosmopolitan city she’d seen - but she’d never been to this particular eatery before and she had no idea what half the items on the menu actually were. She wound up picking something made out of chicken, while Caleb picked the beef. The waitress took their orders and money, placed a large jug of water on the table, then retreated, leaving them alone. Emily glanced at Imaiqah and realized, to her irritation, that her friend had already cast a privacy ward. Whatever she was discussing with William, Emily couldn’t hear it. She couldn’t even lip-read.

She looked back at Caleb, finding herself at a loss for words. What did one
say
on a date? None of the books she’d read offered her a clue, and there was no way she could say the hackneyed lines she’d heard in a dozen romantic movies. Maybe that was why people talked about the weather, she realized. It gave them something to talk about, something guaranteed to serve as a conversational opener. But what could she say? The only thing they had in common was the project and she didn’t want to talk about
that
, not now. And Caleb seemed to be equally tongue-tied...

“I never really asked,” she said, frantically. “How did your career interview go?”

“Well enough,” Caleb said. “I explained I wanted to go into independent research and Master Gordian suggested I take a short apprenticeship with a research magician. We had quite an interesting chat about some of the limitations inherent in the career training system.”

Emily smiled. “What sort of limitations?”

Caleb smiled back, as if he was relieved that the ice had finally broken. “Our project is a mixture of Charms and Alchemy,” he said, “as well as some practical work. It wouldn’t have been possible if we hadn’t worked out how to combine the two fields. But they’re considered separate; I could apprentice with an Alchemist, or a Charms Master, but I couldn’t combine the two apprenticeships. And it would be very hard to apprentice with first one and then the other.”

“I don’t see why not,” Emily said. “Wouldn’t you learn good habits from the first apprenticeship?”

“You’d also be three or so years older than a normal apprentice and have the right to add
Master
to your name,” Caleb pointed out. “Would you want an apprentice like that?”

“I don’t think I would have cared,” Emily said, but she knew it might be different if she was the one tutoring an apprentice. Someone who had already proved himself by winning a coveted title might not be willing to go back to the hard life of an apprentice, being tutored like a child. “Do you have a solution?”

“There are stories of covens, back in the old days, which gathered several masters and apprentices together,” Caleb said. “I was thinking we could restart it, perhaps as a form of research institute...”

A university
, Emily thought.
It wouldn’t be a bad idea
.

“It would have to be small,” she said, slowly. “And funding would be a problem.”

“Not for Alchemy,” Caleb said. “Anyone at that level could brew
Manaskol
. The apprentices could produce it, once a week, and use it to build their finances. I’m pretty sure there would be other ways to make money too...”

Patents, perhaps
, Emily thought. There was no such thing in the Nameless World, which was partly why her ideas had spread so far in such a short space of time.
But they wouldn’t be very enforceable
.

The waitress returned with two bowls of steaming meat, a pair of plates and a large pot of rice. Emily sniffed the chicken, decided it smelled strong but edible, and took a small helping. Caleb helped himself to both the beef and the chicken, talking all the while. Emily had to admit the idea seemed workable, but if it had been tried once and then fallen out of fashion...why? She made a mental note to look it up.

“It would be easy to combine the two fields in group study,” Caleb said. “And it might make it easier to handle other apprenticeships too.”

“It would also make it harder for the master to judge the apprentice’s progress,” Emily said, after a moment. Lady Barb had discussed Healing apprenticeships in some detail, as if she’d been trying to drive away anyone who wasn’t actually committed to the role. “There wouldn’t be a single person giving one-to-one teaching.”

“But they might not be aiming for mastery,” Caleb pointed out. “Merely...raw research.”

“You’d need somewhere very secure,” Emily said. Professor Thande had told them that magicians who pushed the limits too far were told to take themselves off to deserted mountains and carry out their research there. “Hell, you’d need a nexus point.”

“There are some we could probably buy,” Caleb said. He sighed. “But I’d need to be a Master in my own field first.”

Emily nodded. A Master could speak and be heeded, whereas a mere apprentice or journeyman could not. Once he was a Master, Caleb could make proposals and even carry them out, if he had enough backing. Hell, he could even take apprentices of his own, men and women who might be willing to help test his theories. But it would be at least five years before Caleb achieved mastery and set out to change the world.

She glanced down at the plates and was shocked to discover that, between them, they’d eaten everything. Where had the food gone?

“Hey,” Imaiqah said. “William and I are going off now. We’ll see you back at the school?”

Emily wanted to object, but she couldn’t. “I’ll see you back there,” she said. “Have fun.”

“They’re happy,” Caleb said, as Imaiqah and William walked out the door.

“She’ll break up with him within the week,” Emily predicted, shortly. Part of her would have liked to be so...carefree, but the rest of her knew it was too dangerous. “And she’ll have another boyfriend by the start of next week.”

Caleb shrugged. “Do you want to go back to the coaches now?”

Emily hesitated. The first time she’d come to Dragon’s Den, they’d had a set number of hours within the city, but after that there had been coaches running backwards and forwards all day. She was tempted to remain in the city with him, yet...she was scared of what might happen if she did.

“If you don’t mind,” she said. In truth, there was little in Dragon’s Den for her right now. “I can go back on my own, if you like.”

Caleb shook his head. They left a tip for the waitress - Emily hoped she’d have the wit to keep it from her family - and walked back to the coaches. The trip back up the mountains was slower than the trip down to the city, but it gave Emily a chance to focus her mind. Maybe, just maybe, it hadn’t been a complete disaster.

“It’s deserted,” Caleb said, as they climbed out of the coach. There was no one in sight, not even a student cleaning the cobblestones as a form of detention. “They’re all gone.”

“Probably round the back of the school,” Emily said. Alassa had grumbled about it, when she hadn’t been grumbling about detention with Madame Beauregard. She should be there, she’d said, spying on the opposing players. “Everyone who isn’t at Dragon’s Den will be watching the Ken match.”