Trial By Fire (Schooled in Magic Book 7) (26 page)

“It’ll be fun,” Alassa wheedled. “And it will do you a power of good.”

“If you like,” Emily said. “I’ll leave you with the task of sorting out the food.”

She stepped out of her room and walked down the corridor, passing through the wards that marked the edge of Fourth Year territory. Whitehall still seemed deserted, although she could hear the sound of someone singing in the distance, a sweet but sad song about a witch who’d fallen in love with a dying man and sacrificed her magic to save his life. Given what she’d learned about some of the forbidden medical spells, Emily had a good idea what she’d done to save her lover. The song ended with them settling down together as man and wife, although Emily doubted it would have worked out so well. She’d only had magic for four years and she wasn’t sure she could live without it any longer.

Madame Razz was standing outside the entrance to the Second Year rooms, berating a young boy Emily didn’t know. His head kept twisting from side to side, as if he was trying to physically avoid the House Mother’s lecture. Emily cleared her throat as Madame Razz dispatched him to see the Warden, then waited until the House Mother deigned to notice her presence. She was known for being alternatively motherly and incredibly strict.

“Emily,” Madame Razz said. “Speak.”

“I would like to see Frieda,” Emily said. It wasn’t common for older students to visit younger ones in their dorms. She’d need the House Mother’s permission to enter if Frieda wasn’t there. “Is that possible?”

Madame Razz closed her eyes, reaching out with her mind to touch the wards. “Frieda is not currently in her room,” she said. “I suggest you look for her elsewhere.”

Emily sighed, inwardly. The wards should be able to locate Frieda within a split-second, but she knew Madame Razz wouldn’t help her to find the younger girl unless it was a real emergency. Whitehall’s unspoken rules baffled her at times, although she thought she understood. The wards monitored the school too closely for any abuse to pass unnoticed or unreported.

“I will,” she said. “If you happen to see her, please will you let her know I was looking for her?”

“I suppose,” Madame Razz grumbled. “But I am not your messenger girl.”

Emily nodded in thanks, then hurried down the corridor, past a small group of students who appeared to be staring at the floor. She wondered if someone had managed to shrink themselves into near-invisibility or something, then dismissed the thought. Anything really dangerous would have been caught by the wards. She kept a sharp eye out for Caleb as she walked, but saw no sign of him. For all she knew, he and Frieda were both walking outside the school...

She stopped outside Lady Barb’s office and knocked on the open door. Lady Barb was tending to a handful of girls, all of whom had bloody noses. Emily stared at them in disbelief. How could nine girls all have the same identical injury? Had they
all
walked into a wall at the same time? Or been pushed?

Lady Barb turned and looked at her. “Emily. Why are you here?”

“I have detention,” Emily confessed. At least she’d have a chance to talk to Lady Barb afterwards. “Master Grey sent me here.”

“Again,” Lady Barb said, disapprovingly.

“Yes,” Emily said.

“Well, you can help me heal these people,” Lady Barb said, after a long moment. She waved a hand towards a pale-skinned girl who couldn’t be any older than Frieda. “Consider it a practical test of your abilities.”

Emily swallowed, and went to work.

“T
ELL ME SOMETHING,” LADY BARB SAID
, once the last of the girls had been healed and dispatched to her bedroom. “How many girls are there in Second Year?”

Emily thought about it. Whitehall normally had around fifty girls and seventy boys per year, but there had been a recruiting shortfall after Shadye’s attack, when
she’d
been in her First Year. She had the impression, from Frieda, that there weren’t actually that many girls in her year...

“Around thirty,” she guessed.

“Thirty-nine,” Lady Barb said. “And thirty-seven of them have the same injury.”

Emily blinked. “All, but two? How?”

“A very good question,” Lady Barb said. “They all say they ran into a wall.”

That couldn’t be right, Emily was sure. The younger students did go running through the building, and it was at least reasonably possible that one or two might accidentally run into a wall, but how could all of them, save two, make the same stupid mistake? Even if the school had been reconfiguring itself at the time, it wouldn’t have produced the same injury...

“They’re lying,” she said. “They
must
be lying. Someone beat them up or cursed them or...”

“They’re all telling the truth,” Lady Barb said. “I checked. They all swear they ran into walls and they’re all telling the truth.”

“I don’t believe it,” Emily said. “Did someone tamper with their memories?”

“Not according to the wards,” Lady Barb said. “No one has used anything more dangerous than a mild compulsion charm over the past couple of weeks, at least outside class. I don’t think there was anything strong enough to cause such a lasting effect in one person, let alone thirty-seven. It makes no sense.”

Emily considered it. “Who was spared and why?”

“Frieda and Tomas,” Lady Barb said. “And there doesn’t seem to be any
reason
why they were spared.”

She gave Emily a sharp look. “Have you noticed any odd behavior recently?”

“Imaiqah was chewing her fingernails,” Emily said, after a moment’s thought. “I don’t recall anything else.”

“Might be nothing,” Lady Barb said. She shook her head, then sat down at the desk. “And now we’ve healed the wounded, perhaps you could explain to me how you managed to earn another detention on a weekend?”

Emily swallowed, and started to explain.

“I shall be having words with Caleb,” Lady Barb said, when she’d finished. “Or, rather, I shall be having words with the Grandmaster, who will have words with Caleb.”

“But...” Emily caught herself, then pressed on. “He didn’t...”

“You are
meant
to be doing a joint project with him,” Lady Barb said, coldly. “I don’t believe you will find it any easier with this hanging over you.”

Emily winced. She’d honestly never considered the possibility of having to work with a former boyfriend. It had never happened before; even Jade, when he’d asked her to marry him, had been on the verge of leaving Whitehall. Caleb...she wasn’t sure what he was, here and now, but it wouldn’t be easy to work with him if matters remained unresolved between them. God alone knew what he thought of her.

“It wasn’t fair of him to spring this on you,” Lady Barb continued. “I believe the Grandmaster will be unhappy.”

“Please will you let me talk to him first?” Emily pleaded. It wasn’t right for Caleb to be punished because of
her
problems. “I don’t think it will get in our way.”

Lady Barb arched her eyebrows. “And just how many relationships have you had?”

Emily flushed. “You’re dating Sergeant Miles...”

“We’re not actually in the same job,” Lady Barb said, cutting her off. “More to the point” - she started to tick points off on her fingers - “we are both older than you, more mature than you, and considerably more honest with one another. How easy do you think it would be to work together if you happened to be lovers?”

“We could do it,” Emily said.

“I’m
sure
you could,” Lady Barb said, sarcastically. “Why did you run?”

“I liked the kiss,” Emily confessed. “And the feelings were so strong I ran from them.”

“Because they made you feel vulnerable,” Lady Barb said. She smiled, rather tiredly. “I think you need to learn to cope with your feelings, rather than suppress them or run from them.”

“It isn’t easy,” Emily muttered.

“Very little worth doing is easy,” Lady Barb countered. She rested her elbows on the table and leaned forward, placing her fingertips together. “I will delay speaking to the Grandmaster if -
if
- you speak to Caleb today and sort yourself out. If you don’t, I will have no option but to report the new problem and let him handle it.”

Emily swallowed. “You want me to face up to the problem,” she said. “But...”

Lady Barb met her eyes. “But what?”

“Nothing,” Emily said, rubbing her forehead. It felt as if she’d been awake for days, rather than hours. “I’ll speak to him.”

“Good,” Lady Barb said. She closed her eyes for a long moment, reaching out and querying the wards. “You’ll find him in the workroom, thankfully. He’s alone.”

She held up a hand before Emily could rise. “I think we’ll count your work here as your detention,” she said. “However...”

There was a long pause. “There’s something that needs to be said,” she warned, “and said clearly. You
cannot
keep running from your problems.”

“I know,” Emily said.

“The Grandmaster - and I - are very concerned about just what will happen when you come of age,” Lady Barb continued. “We and--” - her lips thinned in silent disapproval “--Void have spent a great deal of time running interference for you. We have done this, at least in part, because you are both a stranger to our world and underage, at least by magical standards. It cannot last indefinitely. Once you pass Fourth Year, you will be considered fully adult. It will no longer be possible to protect you from some of the less savory elements of our world.”

Emily opened her mouth, although she was unsure what to say. “I...”

“You are, quite probably, the most sought-after person in the Allied Lands,” Lady Barb warned. “If Whitehall wasn’t so strongly defended, if the Grandmaster didn’t have so many magicians who owed him a favor, if...if your supposed father wasn’t so powerful, if...it’s quite possible you would have been assassinated by now. Or kidnapped by someone less inclined to worry about retaliation if they kill you, accidentally or otherwise.”

“I know,” Emily said.

“Then
learn
,” Lady Barb snapped. “You are good,
brilliant
even, at sticking up for others. I dare say the
reason
Frieda is crushing on you is because you are the
first
person ever to give a damn for her. You stuck up for Alassa, you stuck up for Imaiqah, you even stuck up for Melissa when I’d bet good money you were tempted to hurl her into the dragon’s mouth. But you’re very bad at sticking up for yourself.”

Emily felt her breath catch in her throat. “I...”

“You have to learn to toughen up,” Lady Barb said. “Because, next year, everything will be different.”

“That’s why Master Grey is here,” Emily said. It wasn’t a question. “He was hired to put me through the wringer.”

“Yes,” Lady Barb said, flatly.

Emily stared down at her hands. She wanted to deny it, she wanted to throw Lady Barb’s words back at her, but she knew she could not. The courage that had propelled her into an early confrontation with Alassa, and the Iron Duchess, and so many others had been driven by a concern for others, not herself. Why would anyone show concern for
her
?

“You need to be pushed into deep waters,” Lady Barb said. She sounded sympathetic, but there was no give in her tone at all. “Sink or swim. Player or pawn.”

“I’m sorry,” Emily said.

“Don’t be sorry,” Lady Barb said. “
Fix
it.”

Lady Barb cleared her throat. “I expect you to report back to me tomorrow with
full
details of what passes between you and Caleb,” she added. “If you don’t visit me by midmorning, I will have to speak to the Grandmaster. That will not end well for either of you.”

“I understand,” Emily said. Lady Barb was forcing her to act or risk losing the joint project and having to redo Third Year as well as Fourth. “And thank you.”

“You’re not the first girl to have problems with boys,” Lady Barb said, as Emily rose. “And Caleb isn’t the first boy to have problems with girls. Bear that in mind, perhaps, while you’re talking to him.”

Emily nodded, walked out of the room and down the stairs towards the alchemy workrooms. A couple were open, occupied by other students conducting
their
joint projects; others were locked and sealed, heavily warded to keep out intruders. Emily wished, for a moment, that she could have done the project on her own, but pushed the thought aside. Teamwork wasn’t one of her strengths, yet she’d
enjoyed
working with Caleb. Lady Barb was right. It hadn’t been fair of him to ask her out before the project was finished, not when it
would
overshadow their work.

She paused outside the door, uncertain if she wanted to take that final step. It would be easy, so easy, just to leave matters alone. Lady Barb would go to the Grandmaster and then...and then what? The project would have to be restarted from scratch, at best; Caleb would have to put up with a third co-worker. Or maybe it would be split between them...

This is what Lady Barb meant, you fool
, she told herself.
Do you want her standing behind you with a whip
?

Bracing herself, she opened the door and stepped inside.

Caleb sat on a stool, his head bowed over a piece of wood. His fingers seemed to work perfectly, she noted, as he carved out the rune for later use. He looked up as she entered, his eyes seemingly torn between wariness and relief that she’d finally come to him. It had to have looked worse to him, Emily realized, as she sat down on the other side of the table. God alone knew what had run through his mind after she’d fled.

“Hi,” she said, nervously.

“Hi,” Caleb said. He put the knife down, but held the piece of wood in his hand. “Emily...”

Emily gathered her courage as best as she could and leaned forward. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said, softly. What did one
say
to a boy when you’d fled from him? “It was mine.”

“I kissed you,” Caleb said. It struck her, suddenly, that he must have wondered what
Void
would have had to say about the whole affair. Kissing the daughter of a Lone Power had to rank beside taunting a necromancer as a fancy way to commit suicide. “It was
my
fault. My presumption.”