Little Witches
	
(Schooled in Magic XXI)
	
Christopher G. Nuttall

	

	

	

Little Witches
This is a work of fiction. All concepts, characters and events portrayed in this book are used fictitiously and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 Christopher G. Nuttall
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, except brief extracts for the purpose of review, without the permission of the publisher and copyright owner.
First Edition, December 2020
Cover art by Brad Fraunfelter

Contents
Dedication
Prologue I
Prologue II
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six

Dedication

To Mel Lee Newmin, who was kind enough to let me borrow the title. Please check out her short story—and others—in Fantastic Schools I and II.

Prologue I

The White City felt... different.
Gordian, Grandmaster of Whitehall, felt a chill run down his spine as he walked down the road leading towards the Imperial Palace. He’d grown up in the White City, learned to play the political game practically from the moment he could walk, but... everything was different now. The nexus point - the reawakened nexus point - pulsed in the distance, a constant frisson of raw power that was both awesome and terrifying. The grand mansions, houses, and apartment blocks that made up the core of the city, felt washed out, once-impregnable wards melting like snow in the first days of spring. Gordian shivered, helplessly, as he walked past a pair of open gates. The city had been largely abandoned, its citizens choosing to decamp and abandon their property. Gordian didn’t blame them. It was impossible to escape the sensation that the city was suddenly very fragile, that the merest cough might send it tumbling into ruin. The longer he stayed within the city, the more he feared the worst.
He forced himself to keep going, even as the tales he’d been told about the city’s distant past haunted his mind. The White City had been the seat of the Emperors, the most powerful magicians in the known world. They’d tamed the nexus point and build their palace amidst its flames. And their successors had built over their works as shellfish might build their nests within a sunken boat, with no more awareness of what the Emperors had done than the shellfish might have of humanity. Gordian had heard that some brave souls had recently ventured into the Imperial Palace, in hopes of laying claim to power beyond the dreams of magicians and necromancers. They’d gone in. None had returned.
The sense of looming disaster grew stronger as he reached the park and trudged down to the lake. He had many happy memories of sailing toy boats in the water, when he’d been a lad, but now strange lights were clearly visible under the waves. The proud swans he’d fed were gone. He’d been told the city had been deserted by its animal population the day the nexus point had come back to life. Even the zookeepers had been unable to keep their charges from escaping. Gordian wondered, sourly, if that made the animals smarter than their human counterparts. The humans had only decamped when it became clear that their wards were steadily failing. And who knew what would happen when they died completely?
Master Lucknow stood at the edge of the lake, staring into the glowing waters. Gordian coughed, although he was sure the older sorcerer had sensed his presence the moment he’d entered the park. He wasn’t sure why Master Lucknow had insisted on meeting in the park, within the deserted city, although he had to admit it would be effectively impossible for someone to spy on them. The finest scryers in the Allied Lands had tried to peer into the city, in hopes of finding out what was going on. They’d reported that it was like staring into the sun.
“Grandmaster.” Master Lucknow turned to face him, his eyes shadowed and grim. “Kalians is dead.”
Gordian felt a flicker of cold amusement. “I remember a time when that would be considered good news.”
“It was how he died that interested me,” Master Lucknow said. “Would you care to guess how it happened?”
Gordian said nothing for a long moment. Kalians had been a necromancer, his territories on the very southern edge of the Blighted Lands. He’d never been considered a serious threat. He would have had to punch his way through at least two other necromancers before reaching the Craggy Mountains, if the march itself didn’t kill him and his slaves. The Allied Lands had assumed Kalians would be picked off by one of his rivals, if he didn’t kill himself. There hadn’t seemed any reason to be particularly worried about him.
“A bunch of young sorcerers teleported south,” Master Lucknow said. “They took one of Lady Emily’s batteries” - the word was a curse - “with them. They used a wardcracking spell to break the necromancer’s wards, allowing his own power to consume him. And then they seized his lands.”
Gordian’s eyes narrowed as he realized where the conversation was going. “They seized a nexus point.”
“Quite.” Master Lucknow turned away. “They have effectively declared independence from the White Council and the Allied Lands. Given that they own and control a nexus point, winkling them out may take some time.”
“If it can be done at all,” Gordian said. “The precedents are clear. Whoever seizes a necromancer’s territory has an unchallengeable claim.”
“Yes,” Master Lucknow said. “But their willingness to seize the territory and stake a claim bodes ill for the future.”
“They’re not the first,” Gordian said. “Lord Cat seized control of Kuching Castle. Alluvia is seriously considering digging its own way through the Craggy Mountains. Dragora is thinking about sending ships to the southern coastline and establishing military colonies...”
Master Lucknow made an impatient sound. “That isn’t the point.”
Gordian met his eyes, evenly. “A year ago, we were on the verge of defeat. These are the problems of victory.”
“Yes, that’s true.” Master Lucknow waved his hand, dismissively. “But they are problems.”
He paced as he spoke, ticking off points on his fingers. “The old conflicts between kingdoms have started to reignite. There have been border skirmishes between seven or eight kingdoms as monarchs press their claims to disputed territory. Cities have sought to secure their independence from neighboring kingdoms. Swindlers like Vesperian have triggered off a dozen crises, just like he did. Religious nuts are promising a whole new world. Magical and merchant families are even considering ways to make land grabs themselves, or - at the very least - secure their own independence from the rest of the world. My source at Laughter has gone quiet, but something is clearly happening there.
“And, working in the shadows, revolutionary movements are threatening to overthrow their monarchs and create a new world.”
Gordian frowned. “It’s that bad?”
“Yes.” Master Lucknow made a face. “And all of these problems can be traced back to one person.”
“Lady Emily,” Gordian said.
“Yes,” Master Lucknow said. “We only tolerated her because the necromancers feared her. And now the necromancers are gone.”
“Effectively gone,” Gordian pointed out.
“Effectively gone,” Master Lucknow echoed. “A year ago, challenging a necromancer in his lair would have been suicide. Now... it can be done. We no longer... need... such a disruptive influence.”
His voice hardened. “The batteries alone, Grandmaster, have changed the world.”
Gordian nodded. There’d been no way to store magic long-term, not without a nexus point, until Emily had devised the batteries. Gordian didn’t know how they worked, but it was just a matter of time until someone outside the charmed circle cracked the secret. Knowing something was possible was half the battle. And the batteries were, in many ways, the least of it. The New Learning was spreading rapidly. He’d heard the stories. Gunpowder weapons that put the power to kill in the hands of untrained commoners, a written alphabet and printing presses that allowed commoners to write, read and print books, steam engines and railways that raised the promise of binding the Allied Lands closer together... he owed Emily much, he admitted sourly, but he couldn’t avoid admitting she was disruptive.
She’s not a bad person, he conceded, privately. But that only makes her more dangerous.
“And we are in no state to deal with the crisis,” Master Lucknow said. He waved a hand towards the distant palace. “The White Council has been scattered. There’s no guarantee it will be able to reform, certainly not as anything effective.”
“As if it ever was,” Gordian said.
“It worked, well enough,” Master Lucknow said. “It kept us from indulging in self-destructive wars. But now the threat that bound us together is gone. We no longer need her.”
“We owe her,” Gordian said.
“Gratitude is a luxury we cannot afford,” Master Lucknow said. “She goes to Whitehall and turns the school upside down. She goes to Mountaintop and turns the school upside down, nearly destroying it in the process before giving the school to a person unsuited for the role. She plays a major role in sparking a civil war within a powerful kingdom; she plays another role in heading off a civil war within another kingdom. And she’s unpredictable. What will she do next?”
His eyes hardened. “She must be stopped. Now. Before it’s too late.”
Gordian let out a breath. It wouldn’t be easy to stop a person who’d gone toe-to-toe with a small army of necromancers. Emily might not know it - Gordian had often thought there was something odd about her, a strange lack of awareness of the world - but she had friends and allies who would start a full-scale war if she was harmed. And, of course, her father could hardly be ignored. Emily and Void were, perhaps, the two scariest people in the world.
He looked at his companion. “What do you have in mind?”
“I have a plan,” Master Lucknow said. “It will require your cooperation.”
Gordian hesitated, then committed himself. “What do you want from me?”
Master Lucknow told him.

Prologue II

Daniel stayed low as he reached the bottom of the Howling Peaks and paused for breath, heart thudding in his head as he looked from side to side and up the mountainside. The giant trees seemed to form an impassable barrier between the road and the school high above, a barrier he knew was nothing more than illusion. It was easy to navigate the trees if one had grown up in the mountains. And yet... He hesitated, torn between the determination to make a name for himself and a flicker of fear. Trying to reach the school was a rite of passage for the young men of Pendle, yet... he’d heard the stories. Those who got to the school without being caught were rewarded, he’d been told, but those who got caught...
A shiver ran down his spine. It wasn’t that bad, he’d been assured. And yet... he remembered Blair, a bullying blowhard of a lad who’d come down from the mountains and fled into the distance, leaving his home and family behind with nary a word to his friends and loved ones. Daniel had known Blair too well to think that anything minor could have convinced him to run. It was suddenly easy to believe the darker stories, the suggestions that the witches did unspeakable things to young men... he shivered, again. The urge to just turn around and go home was almost overpowering. What was it worth, really, to slap his hand against the school’s walls?
And yet, he knew he’d be called a coward if he turned and ran.
He cursed under his breath as he walked off the road and into the trees. There was no hope of escaping the rumors, once he was branded a coward. The witches themselves would happily confirm they hadn’t so much as laid eyes on him, let alone hexed him or cursed him or done anything to him. He knew the girls, from their weekend excursions to the town. Some were friendly, some looked down on the local lads... all were distant from the townspeople, even the ones who’d been born in the town. A local girl had gone up to the school and come back a very different person. They’d tattle on him. They’d think it was funny.
The wind whistled through the trees, the shadows growing darker - somehow - as the sun started to sink behind the distant mountains. It was meant to be safe near the school, in twilight, but Daniel still felt hopelessly exposed as he flitted from tree to tree. Everyone knew the truly dangerous creatures only came out after night fell completely, yet... it wasn’t very reassuring now that he was well away from the road. He clambered over a dry gully, carefully avoiding a pool of water on the upper ridge. They could be very dangerous, he knew. Anything could be hiding within the pool. Anything at all.
Sweat trickled down his back as he forced himself to move faster. He’d picked his time very carefully. The majority of the witches - the student witches, at least - would be in the town, swaggering around in their cloaks and hats and flirting with the older boys. The older witches would either be supervising their charges or taking the opportunity to have a rest before the younger witches returned to the castle. Daniel had heard stories of what happened behind the high stone walls, stories he wasn’t sure he believed but listened to anyway. The older witches had to be pushed to the limit by their students. They wouldn’t have time to monitor the approaches to the school. Or so he hoped.
They’ll be coming back up soon, he reminded himself. You have to hurry.
His arms and legs started to ache. He thought he saw things in the darkness, sensed unseen eyes looking at him. The sense of threat grew stronger, making him ball his fists even though he knew it was probably useless. The Other Folk - the Awful Folk - were supposed to have agreements with the witches, although no one knew for sure. Anything powerful or nasty enough to ignore those agreements was unlikely to be troubled by him. He’d heard those stories too.
He reached a clearing and stopped, trying to gauge the time. The darkness was swelling rapidly now, sweeping majestically over the land. It wouldn’t be long before the witches started walking or flying back to the castle, showing off as they glided over the mountains and landed on the castle battlements. He felt a twinge of envy, mingled with something he didn’t dare try to put into words. Magic ran strong, in the folk of Pendle. He might have magic himself. And if he did, he would be sent away to study. He might never be welcome within the town again.
And if I get to the walls and back, he thought, I’ll be a hero...
His ankles snapped together, hard enough to hurt. Daniel toppled over, landing face-first in the muddy ground. Realization dawned a second later. Hexed. He’d been hexed. His ankles were held together by an invisible force that felt like iron, impossible to break no matter how hard he struggled. He forced himself to roll over and try to pull himself up by his arms alone. Hexes didn’t last, he’d been told. He could hide himself until the magic wore off and then make his way back to the town. He’d be ribbed for being caught, but he was far from the only one to fail to reach the walls. Very few young men had ever made it there.
And then he saw the witch.
She was strikingly pale, her blonde hair practically glowing despite the darkening air. Her dark dress seemed to blend with the shadows. She couldn’t be more than two or three years older than he was, although it was never easy to tell with a witch. She was beautiful, practically perfect compared to the hardworking girls in the town below. She looked as surprised to see him as he was to see her, a faint expression on her face that suggested she shouldn’t be in the forest any more than himself. Daniel forced himself to sit up and smile, trying to look harmless. His ankles were still bound together. There was no way he could get to her, or get away, before she zapped him. All he could do was concede he’d been caught and hope she didn’t do anything worse to him. He’d be ribbed mercilessly for that, too.
The witch looked at him. Daniel had the oddest feeling she wasn’t really seeing him. The witches looked down on the magic-less townsfolk; even the nicer ones considered themselves a cut above the rest, but this one... he braced himself, trying to inch away from her as best as he could. If she wasn’t really aware of him, perhaps he could get away.
Her hand jabbed at him. Daniel saw a flicker of light, an instant before the spell hit him. A wave of pain rushed through his body, his mouth opening to scream in utter agony before melting into nothingness. His vision twisted painfully, as if his eyeballs were on the verge of popping out of their sockets... his entire body twisted painfully. He thought he felt his bones breaking and shattering as the magic coursed through him. It was... he understood, now, why Blair had fled the town without looking back. The spell was no joke. It was pure torture. It was... it was...
His vision cleared. He found himself looking up at the witch. She was a giantess. No, he’d shrunk. His body felt weird, as if he’d been changed... horror ran through him as he realized he had been changed. The lads had joked about the witches turning boys into frogs, but... there was nothing funny about this. He couldn’t move... what had she done to him? She stared down at him, her pretty face oddly slack. Her foot - her huge foot - rose and came down. Hard. There was an instant of soul-shattering pain and then...
Darkness.

Chapter One

Emily hid behind a rock and closed her eyes, concentrating. It wasn’t easy to sense anything, let alone a whorl of magic, in the forest, but she knew Void was out there. Void was looking for her. She felt a flicker of excitement, remembering the days Alassa had made her play hide-and-seek in the corridors of Whitehall. The consequences of losing had been embarrassing, back then. Now... they were a great deal worse.
You told Void you were up for it, she reminded herself, severely. Get this wrong and he will be very unhappy indeed.
She smiled, although it wasn’t funny. Void had taken her away from Cat’s new castle - Kuching Castle, he’d named it - after the war, pointing out that the death of her bilocated self would have severe effects on her. He hadn’t been wrong, she conceded. The shock had caught up with her shortly after he’d teleported her home, the trauma of being killed sending her into meltdown. Void had been as comforting and supportive as he could be, but... Emily still had nightmares about her death. It wasn’t really that reassuring to know she’d survived her own death. And he’d insisted on keeping her isolated until she’d recovered to his satisfaction. Emily had found it a relief, at first. It hadn’t taken long for it to become maddening.
The forest seemed empty of human life, save for herself. She could sense flickers of magic and life darting through the trees, a faint haze that shouldn’t have hidden a full-fledged sorcerer from her. Emily wasn’t reassured. Void was out there somewhere, looking for her. He’d agreed to let her leave the tower for a day if she beat him... he wouldn’t let her go easily. She reached out, masking her presence as best as she could. She had the feeling it wouldn’t be particularly successful. She’d spent the last year exploring the forest and valleys, but Void knew them like the back of his hand. He’d had years to weave his magic into the warp and weft of the mountains themselves. It was his place of power.
Her eyes snapped open as she heard something running through the trees above her. She looked up and frowned as she saw a squirrel. It looked harmless, and she couldn’t sense any magic around the little creature, but she knew that was meaningless. Void could have turned the woodland creatures into an early-warning system, if he wished; his mind could be riding inside the squirrel, seeing through its eyes without tipping her off before it was too late. She prepared a spell, then stopped herself. The squirrel didn’t deserve to be shocked - or killed - because it might be an unwitting spy. And if it wasn’t, blasting the poor creature would have given away her position. Void would be looking for her too.
He knows I won’t have left the valley, Emily thought. She considered, briefly, doing just that... but it would be cheating. Probably. Void wouldn’t be amused. He’ll keep scanning the valley until he finds me.
Her mind raced as she considered her options. Void was strong, the strongest magician - in skill if not raw power - she’d ever met. He wouldn’t crash around like a necromancer, smashing everything that got in his way until his madness consumed him and he forgot what he was looking for. He’d keep his power masked as he tried to locate Emily and get the drop on her. And that meant he wouldn’t stop looking... unless he thought he’d found her. She frowned as she glanced around, noticing just how many creatures were running along the branches or flying through the trees. Void might have already found her. It wouldn’t take more than one unwitting spy to uncover her...
He’d be on top of me by now if he knew where I was, Emily thought. He wouldn’t hold back.
She scowled as she inched backwards, one hand reaching for the dagger in her sleeve. Void had been insistent she stayed in the tower, even though he’d been popping in and out so often it was hard for her to continue her apprenticeship. She’d loved learning magic with him, pushing the limits of what she could do and developing newer and better ways to combine magic with earthly concepts. It was frustrating to be so isolated, particularly after Void had warned her that not everyone was happy with her. She knew he meant well, but it was still stifling to be indoors for two months.
The dagger felt solid in her hand. Void had suggested she charm the blade - he’d taught her a number of enchantments, including the runes that had almost killed Imaiqah - but she’d resisted the urge. Charmed blades could be dangerous to the wielder as well as the victim, she knew from grim experience; they could be sensed and guarded against by a magician who might not think to look for a mundane weapon. Emily braced herself, then carefully cut her hand just lightly enough to allow a dribble of blood to splash to the ground. Void was going to read her the riot act, when he found out what she’d done, but... hopefully, he’d also appreciate the trick. She touched the blood, summoned a tiny flicker of magic and shaped it -carefully - into an illusion. And then she hurried back into the shadows and reached out with her senses once again.
She shivered as the ether started to shimmer with magical essence. Her magical essence. The spell felt like a convincing search-spell, an attempt to locate Void before he could come after her... she opened her mind wider, bracing herself. Either Void spotted the spell and came for her or the spell spotted him, hopefully allowing her to get the drop on him before it was too late. She felt her heart pounding in her chest as the seconds grew longer and longer... Void was no fool. He’d sense the magic. Would he realize it was a trick? Or would he try to drop a hammer on her before she realized her mistake?
He might assume I made a deliberate mistake, she thought. She’d learnt that tactic from several of her teachers, including Void himself. Or he might be going easy on me.
Emily shook her head. Void had never gone easy on her. He’d put her through dozens of tests and training exercises, each one more complex and dangerous than the last. Emily was all too aware he was pushing her to the limit, with every test raising the specter of serious injury or even death. No, he’d want to make it clear she wasn’t ready to leave the tower again. Not yet. If she made a mistake, he’d want - he’d need - to rub her face in it. And that meant she’d have a chance to hit him first...
She barely registered the black shape in the sky before it dropped to the ground in front of her, right on top of the charmed blood. Void had flown? Emily kicked herself, a moment later, for even doubting he would. She didn’t know how to fly herself, but she knew it was possible... if one was prepared to accept the dangers. She could have cancelled Void’s spells and sent him tumbling to the ground, if she’d seen him coming in time. He’d flown very fast to keep her from realizing what he was doing until it was too late.
Void started to swing around immediately. He knew he’d been tricked. Emily didn’t hesitate. She mustered the first piece of spellwork and thrust it into his wards. Void lit up brilliantly as his wards struggled to fend off the corkscrew of magic digging through his defenses. Emily could sense him shoving his wards away, pushing the tip of her attack further and further from the core of his being. Magic sparked in all directions as streams of light were redirected. She was genuinely impressed. Void was the only sorcerer she’d met who’d taken a direct hit from a necromancer and survived. The corkscrew magic she was using was sneakier than anything a necromancer would use, but far weaker. She could sense the spell structure already starting to break up.
She readied the second piece of magic and thrust it into his wards, using the first spell to cloak the second. There was so much magic crackling around him that he shouldn’t be able to pick out the second spell before it nestled itself within the wards. She could barely follow it herself and she knew it was there. She hoped. The spell vanished into the blaze of magic, like a candle against the sun. It was suddenly difficult to be sure it was still intact. Emily felt the remnants of the corkscrew shatter a moment later, magic spilling out in all directions as Void ripped the spell apart. She separated herself from the magic before he could reach back along the threadlines and catch hold of her, then turned and ran. Void would be after her the moment he realized she was running. He knew he had to run her down and catch her before she mustered the power for another attack.
A wave of magic washed out behind her, brushing against her wards. Emily suddenly felt naked as his magic locked onto her, making it impossible to hide. She ducked as a spell shot over her head, unwilling to take the risk of catching or deflecting it with her wards. She thought she could dismantle a dueling spell before it caught her, but there was no point in taking chances. Void wouldn’t mess around, not now she’d caught him by surprise. She’d probably singed his pride as well as his cloak.
She realized her mistake a second later as the trees came to life, branches withering in the air as they reached for her. The ground below her feet shook and burst as roots thrust their way out of the soil and wrapped themselves around her ankles. Emily stumbled, a stab of pain running up her legs as she tried to pull herself free. The roots were growing stronger, layer after layer piling themselves on her until... she gritted her teeth and hit them with a disintegration spell, pulling herself free and levitating into the air before they could grip her again. A branch struck her back, the magicless wood reaching through her wards as though they weren’t there; Emily threw a blasting curse back, blowing the tree into little chunks of sawdust. She wasn’t sure if Void’s animation spell would survive, but it would take it some time to muster the power to strike again. She glided forward, throwing back a series of spells to buy time. Hopefully, it would look like she was panicking. She doubted Void would fall for it. 
Buy time, she told herself. Keep him focused on me.
She glanced behind her as she landed on the ground and kept moving. Void was lost in the trees... she looked up, half-expecting to see him dropping out of the sky. Or trying to snipe her from high above. Magical snipers were rare, but they existed. She stayed low, grimly aware there was no point in trying to hide. He had a solid lock on her. All he had to do was get the drop on her and the game would be over. 
A necromancer would be crashing through the trees as if they were paper, she thought, as she wiped sweat from her brow. Her shirt and trousers felt sodden. Void is a great deal smarter.
She frowned as she sensed a wave of magic moving towards her. Void... coming at her from the front? That was odd. She would have expected him to try to sneak around her and put a knife in her back. He was immensely powerful and skilled, far more than she was, but he’d told her - more than once - that there was nothing to be gained from taking foolish chances. A weak but smart opponent might prove far more dangerous than an overpowered enemy with little in the way of common sense. There was certainly no point in showing off when it could put one in mortal danger. Emily’s eyes narrowed as she reached out carefully with her mind, looking for the second spell. There was no trace of it in the magic moving towards her.
Which means... Emily allowed herself a smile. He’s sending an illusion out to trick me while he moves up behind me.
Bracing herself, Emily started to move towards the fake. Void wouldn’t expect her to go on the attack, not until she regained enough magic to have a chance of victory. Even if he thought she was more powerful than she actually was, he might assume she’d want a moment to catch her breath. If she was right... she picked up speed, knowing she couldn’t hide from him. But she should be putting more distance between them....
She pushed through the trees. A whorl of magic greeted her eyes as it glided towards her, a faint impression of Void’s magic resting on a complicated piece of spellwork. It was very nearly a mimic... Emily reached out to cancel the spells, then stopped herself and tried to trace the magic back to its source. Void couldn’t have completely automated the whorl, not in the handful of minutes he’d had before sending it after her. It had to be drawing power from him and... her blood ran cold as she traced the power, her legs automatically hurling her to one side as another wave of magic flashed past her. He was behind her. She couldn’t help feeling impressed. She hadn’t even had a hint of his presence.
Another burst of magic slammed into her wards. Emily shoved them away from her, using the movement to throw herself across the clearing and land on the muddy ground. Void stepped through the remains of her wards, then snapped out a single spell. Emily threw back a cancellation spell of her own, erasing his magic before it could strike her and then driving the spell into his wards. Void smiled - she thought she saw a flicker of respect on his face - before he banished her spell and cast another one of his own. Emily sensed movement behind her, too late. The branches caught her by the arms and yanked her up, holding her in place. This time, she didn’t have the power to budge them. 
Emily didn’t hesitate. She sent the trigger code to the second spell, the one she’d embedded in Void’s wards. It came to life, tearing into his magic. The branches loosened, giving her a chance to pull free, as Void concentrated on saving himself. Emily braced herself, readying a spell. Void had only two choices, both of which would leave him vulnerable. Unless he was skilled enough to think of a third option...
Void shoved his wards away from her, the magic - her magic - crashing towards her. Emily levitated and launched the spell, blowing Void across the clearing. He landed badly, lying on his back... she felt a twinge of guilt, even though he’d knocked her down more than once during her apprenticeship. She dropped to the ground, raising her hand to cast the final spell, just as he produced a wand from his sleeve and jabbed it at her. Emily’s body locked, her arms and legs snapping together an instant before she fell and hit the ground. It was painless - the magic saw to that - but it was humiliating. She’d won! She’d won and... he’d tricked her. 
She felt a hand flipping her over and found herself looking up. Void was staring down at her, his dark eyes unusually serious. The wand rested in his hand... she kicked herself, mentally, for not expecting a trick. She kept a dagger in her sleeve... why not a wand? Void was advanced enough, as a magician, to avoid the pitfalls and use it without danger. She wondered if he’d intended to use it to teach her a lesson or if she’d genuinely surprised him. It was never easy to tell.
Void waved the wand at her. The spell broke. She felt mud soaking into the back of her shirt as she found herself able to move again. He’d won. She scowled as she forced herself to sit up, the aches and pains from earlier in the duel returning to haunt her. He’d won and she’d lost and...
She found her voice. “You cheat.”
Void laughed. “Do you expect your next set of enemies to play fair?”
Emily shook her head in bitter resignation. Her teachers had been at pains to point out that the world wasn’t fair - as if she hadn’t known it already - and that no one, absolutely no one, played fair when the stakes were high. She’d never cared for dueling, at least in part because her tutors had never cared for it either. Duelists followed the rules or they got kicked out of the circle. A real fight had no rules.
“You did well.” Void held out a hand to help her to her feet. “You should have clobbered me while you had the chance, which is why you lost, but otherwise you did well. Your trick with the embedded spell was risky, yet it worked.”
“Thank you,” Emily said. Her legs felt wobbly. A wave of exhaustion crashed over her. She brushed mud and leaves off her shirt as she gathered her breath, forcing herself to carry on. “What now?”
“Now?” Void turned. “We go back to the tower to eat. And then... I suppose I can’t keep you here any longer.”
Emily frowned at his back. “What do you mean?”
“As your master, it is my duty - among other things - to protect you from the world,” Void said, curtly. He started to walk, his boots squelching in the mud. “I wanted to be sure you were able to look after yourself before you left the tower.”
“I can,” Emily insisted.
“You have powerful enemies,” Void said. His tone didn’t change. “You need to watch your back.” 

Chapter Two

Emily kept her face under tight control as she followed Void back to the tower and stepped into the washroom. Silent, the maid, was already standing there, holding a pair of towels and a robe in her hand. Emily took them, then waved the maid out as she turned on the shower, undressed and looked at herself in the mirror. Her body was covered in bruises; some old, some new. The war and its aftermath had left scars on her flesh and soul.
She closed her eyes for a long moment, gathering herself, then stared at the face in the mirror. It was hard to believe, sometimes, that it was her. Long chestnut hair flowed down her back, framing a narrow face and light brown eyes. Her arms and legs were smoothly toned, more muscular than she’d ever expected them to be. She might not have muscles on her muscles, like Jade or Cat or the other combat sorcerers, but she knew she could handle herself. She’d spent the last seven years training. It just felt weird to know that the Necromantic War was over. It had overshadowed her life, ever since she’d been yanked into the Nameless World. And now it was over.
Effectively over, she corrected herself. There’s still a bunch of necromancers out there.
The thought made her smile. They might still be there, but their power had been broken. She’d reignited the nexus points, devised battery-powered spells to cripple or kill a necromancer... it would be a long time, if ever, before they were wiped out completely, yet they would never pose a threat again. The curse that had lingered over the Blighted Lands had been broken, once and for all. 
She stepped into the shower, allowing the water to run down her body and smooth away the aches and pains. Void had cheated - in hindsight, she should have expected a trick of some kind - but she knew she’d done well. She’d come as close to winning a duel with him as she ever had. She would have won, if he hadn’t stuck a wand up his sleeve. She had to admit she’d never expected it. A powerful sorcerer rarely needed a wand to duel.
Shaking her head, she turned off the water and dried herself with a towel. She’d learnt spells to dry herself, but using a towel felt better. The apprenticeship robe felt a little small, as if she’d outgrown it. She frowned - she hadn’t expected to grow any more - and then shook her head. Perhaps she was on the verge of outgrowing the apprenticeship itself. It was hard to imagine what, if anything, could surpass defeating the necromancers. She didn’t think anyone would question Void if he declared she’d completed the apprenticeship and let her go.
But you don’t want him to send you away, her thoughts pointed out. You want to stay.
She rubbed her forehead, then tied back her hair into a neat ponytail. She’d spent the last few months digging her way through Void’s vast collection of magical tomes, studying spells and theories that had been painstakingly worked out over the last thousand years. Void had cautioned her that not everything was trustworthy - something she knew from personal experience - but it had still been fascinating. Part of her would have been happy to vanish into a library and spend the rest of her life studying. The remainder yearned for a way to put the spells to use. Some of them were clearly nonsense - there were entire volumes on magic that followed no discernible rules - but some held hints of practicality, if only she studied them long enough. 
Her lips quirked. Life as a magician was complicated enough without the ancient mages writing their books to conceal, rather than reveal. She’d grown used to the little additions to the spells, the twists and turns that would lead to failure - if not outright disaster - if the caster didn’t work his way through the spell piece by piece first. Someone had even joked the warning should be written at the back of the books, just to make sure they were actually read. It would have been funny if it hadn’t been so serious. She’d learnt that lesson the hard way, too.
She took one final look in the mirror, then turned and headed through the door and up the stairs to her chambers. The tower had revealed some of its secrets to her, in the last few months, but others were still beyond her, tantalizingly close and yet still out of reach. Void had hinted the tower was growing to accept her, perhaps even to like her, but she wasn’t sure that was true. The tower could only accept one master. There would be secrets, she was sure, that wouldn’t be revealed to anyone beyond the tower’s master. 
Silent stood in the chamber, her hands clasped behind her back. Emily felt a flicker of irritation. The maid was a constant presence, yet she more than lived up to her name. She was so completely reserved, particularly in the tower itself, that Emily had never managed to befriend her. It made a certain kind of sense - they were so far apart that they could never be true friends - but it was irritating. Even now, seven years after entering the Nameless World, she wasn’t used to having servants. She’d sooner do the work herself than have a maid hanging around, moving in and out of her rooms as if she owned the place.
“My Lady.” Silent’s voice was clipped, precise. “I have placed your letters on the table.”
Emily looked at the table and felt her heart sink. There were a lot of letters waiting for her. She’d chafed at Void’s insistence she stay in the tower, and out of contact with everyone, while she recovered, but... she stared at the pile and wondered if she’d made a mistake. A number of the letters would be useless, ranging from offers of marriage to requests for patronage, yet she thought she should look at them. It was better to know what she was ignoring - on the grounds she didn’t have the time or resources to reply - than to risk being blindsided by an unknown threat. Her heart sank still further as she spotted a couple of letters from Jan. Void had made it clear he didn’t approve of their relationship, such as it was. He’d cautioned her that they should both put their apprenticeships first.
It isn’t as if we started a proper relationship, Emily thought, curtly. We’ve only met up a handful of times.
“The Master requests the pleasure of your company for dinner, in one hour from now,” Silent informed her. “Would you like something to drink before then?”
“Yes, please,” Emily said. She sat down and stared at the pile, then reached for the first letter. “And then you can go back to your room.”
The maid curtsied and withdrew. Emily picked up the first letter and opened it, scanning the text quickly. An inventor wanted her to invest in his invention - the details were very vague - and offered to share the profits in return. It looked like a con to her, although she had to admit there was no way to be sure. She put the letter to one side, wondering if she should hire a secretary. Alassa could probably recommend someone with a combination of common sense and trustworthiness, someone who would agree to take binding oaths to keep whatever they learnt to themselves. The nobility might have problems accepting that their servants were people, with minds of their own; Emily knew better. An untrustworthy servant could do a great deal of damage, if they wished.
Silent returned, carrying a steaming mug. Emily nodded absently and continued to work her way through the letters. A nobleman she’d never heard of wanted her to be his daughter’s guardian and tutor. Emily snorted and put the letter aside for disposal. A young magician she vaguely remembered from Whitehall had written to her, proposing marriage. Judging by the way the letter was written, it had been dictated by someone old enough to be her grandfather. She couldn’t remember enough about the purported writer to decide if she liked him or not, but it didn’t matter. He - and his family - didn’t have anything to offer her. 
She felt her head begin to pound as she kept going. It was hard to believe that everyone sought her favor, or her advice, or... her body. She couldn’t think of anyone on Earth who attracted so much attention, not since the intellectual and academic worlds had blossomed into giant communities. The days when everyone of note wrote to each other, maintaining lively correspondences that transcended racial, sexual or national barriers, were long gone. But here... everyone wanted her opinion on everything. She stared at a letter that asked her stance on a border dispute between Alluvia and Red Rose and snorted. She’d visited Alluvia twice and Red Rose once, but she was hardly an expert. She didn’t have the slightest idea what was really going on. And no one with half a brain should trust her opinion on the subject.
Jan’s letter was mildly charmed to ensure that she - and only she - could read it. Emily suspected Void could have opened it without detection, if he wished. It would be tricky to duplicate the magical aura surrounding the parchment, but she’d seen Void twist and redirect magic before. She felt her cheeks heat as she opened the letter and scanned it, quickly. Jan was asking her on a date. In Celeste.
A flicker of magic shot through the tower before she could compose an answer. It was dinnertime. Emily stood, put a spell on the remaining letters to make sure they stayed in place and headed for the door. The urge to just throw the whole lot on the fire was almost overwhelming, but... she was expected to file them away for the rest of time. She rolled her eyes as she headed down the stairs. She’d spent time digging through archives left behind by powerful sorcerers. The vast majority of the paperwork had been worse than useless.
It’ll only get worse, Emily predicted. She reached the dining room and stepped inside. The entire world can write letters now.
Void stood to greet her. “Emily. Feeling better?”
“Yes, thank you.” Emily sat, resting her hands in her lap. “You held back my letters for too long.”
“Too many of them?” Void snorted as he summoned the maid. “You needed time to rest before you started to slip back into the real world. You split yourself in two and then one of your selves died. That always leaves a mark.”
Emily made a face. She still had nightmares about her final moments... about her other self’s final moments. Rangka had snapped her neck, effortlessly. She’d woken screaming, more than once... she felt her temper darken as something clicked in her mind. She’d never discussed her nightmares with her master.
Her eyes hardened. “Silent told you?”
“It is her job,” Void said, bluntly. “Don’t take it out on her.”
Emily winced, choosing to ignore the implication she would. Silent was a servant. She could be dismissed instantly - or worse - if she disobeyed her master. 
She frowned, returning to the original subject. “And I can go back into the real world now?”
“If you wish,” Void said. “My advice would be to be very careful, as I told you, but you have the right to spend some time away from the tower.”
“Yes.” Emily leaned forward. “Jan invited me to Celeste.”
Void’s expression darkened. “That young man should be concentrating on his studies, not courting you. Master Lucknow was foolish to leave him unattended for so long.”
“I never understood why Master Lucknow didn’t take Jan to the war,” Emily said. “There were other apprentices in the field. Me, for one. And Penny.”
“I suspect Jan’s interests are more scholarly than practical,” Void said. He studied her for a long moment. “Are you determined to go?”
“Yes,” Emily said. She didn’t want him to think he had a veto on what she did outside the tower. “It’ll be something different.”
“Make sure you wear a disguise,” Void said. “You don’t want to be noticed.”
Emily blinked. “Why not?”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learnt in my long career,” Void said, “it is that the Allied Lands are led by a pack of ungrateful bastards. Everything I’ve done for them and yet” - he shook his head - “no one regrets what you did, Emily, but now the war is over you may find they have less gratitude than you might expect.”
“I know,” Emily said, quietly.
“I kept you isolated for several reasons,” Void said. “One of them was for the good of your health, in all respects. Another was in the hope things would cool down. They haven’t. The end of the war has unleashed all manner of forces, each one threatening to lead to war and bloody chaos. The temptation to blame you for the chaos is overwhelming.”
“You said they blame me for the nexus points,” Emily said. “I didn’t know...”
“Like I said, they’re ungrateful bastards.” Void shrugged. “Try and keep from being noticed, if you can.”
Emily nodded as Maddy entered, carrying a tray of food. The maid placed a dish in front of her - a beef stew with potatoes, she thought - and a glass of water, then turned to offer the same to her master. Void didn’t seem to like the fancy foods that dominated the tables of magical and mundane aristocrats. She’d never been quite sure why. He could have had the rarest delicacies in the world, if he’d asked for them. But then, she’d never really liked fancy foods either. The thought of eating little mice made her stomach queasy.
Void motioned for her to tuck in, which she did. He rarely allowed conversation over dinner, at least until the first hunger pangs had been silenced. Emily’s mind churned with questions, questions she knew wouldn’t be answered. Void liked to make her solve problems for herself, instead of simply giving her the answers. She understood his logic, but there were times when it was more than a little frustrating. She was powerful and experienced and yet she sometimes still felt like a child.
“The White City’s nexus point has reignited, as you know,” Void said. “And so have most of the others. Perhaps all of them. The results have been quite interesting.”
Emily frowned. “In the sense they fried necromancers?”
“In the sense that a handful of quick-thinking sorcerers have set out to claim them,” Void said. “They don’t think you own the nexus point network, not in any real sense. Some of them have even announced their intention to found whole countries of their own, as the Blighted Lands steadily return to sanity...”
“That could take years.” Emily shivered, remembering the hellscape. “Centuries, perhaps.”
“Perhaps,” Void agreed. “It’s impossible to be sure. But even if they cannot heal the land surrounding the nexus points, they can set up bases and bring in food from the north. Given time, who knows what they’ll be able to do?”
“It won’t be easy to take control of the nexus points,” Emily said. “Lord Whitehall and his commune nearly killed themselves trying.”
Void nodded. “But you did, at Heart’s Eye.”
“Yeah.” Emily studied the remains of her meal. Void had insisted on going through everything she recalled from the past, after she’d completed her mission in Dragora. “I... I think it worked because the nexus point was only just flaring to life. It wasn’t burning brightly, not when I took control. The other nexus points had longer to power up.”
She frowned. There’d been almost nothing in the textbooks about precisely how Lord Whitehall had taken control of the nexus points. The other nexus points might have been tapped - she wasn’t the first person to take control of Heart’s Eye - but the techniques were very different. It was quite possible that anyone trying to take control of one of the reignited nexus points would blow himself to bits, along with a sizable chunk of the surrounding landscape. It had happened before and would probably happen again. She wondered if that nexus point had reignited. It was quite possible.
“You were alone,” Void said, slowly. “How did you do it?”
Emily hesitated, then started to explain. It wasn’t wholly her secret. Caleb and she had worked together to reverse-engineer the spells tapping Whitehall’s nexus point, unaware they were falling into a stable time loop. She’d been able to help Lord Whitehall create the spells she’d studied because she’d studied the spells... she grinned at the thought. Better not to discuss that with anyone outside her small group of friends. Controlled time travel was almost impossible, but she could easily imagine someone trying if they thought it could be done.
“Interesting,” Void said, when she’d finished. “A collection of tiny spells, each one feeding on the others, rather than a single brute-force spell.”
“Yes,” Emily said. It looked fragile, but it wasn’t. She could snap a single thread with ease, but a cluster of threads would be a great deal harder to break. “And they grow and develop as the spell network gets stronger.”
“Clever,” Void said. “It’s easy to see why no one else thought of it.”
“The power requirements looked too high,” Emily said. She waited for Maddy to take the empty plates away, then frowned. “What’s going to happen?”
“I don’t know,” Void said. “There are too many... issues... that were buried, or frozen, as long as the necromancers threatened our borders. Too many resentments, too many claims, too many problems that are now coming back to life. There will be winners and losers and the winners will want to keep what they’ve got while the losers will want to refight the war or reshape the gameboard and I have absolutely no faith in their ability to come to a reasonable solution. And yes, many of them blame you because it’s easier than blaming themselves.”
He snorted. “That would mean they’d have to change. Gods forbid the kings and would-be kings actually change!”
“Alassa knows better,” Emily said.
“She’s one monarch amongst many,” Void said. There was a hint of disapproval in his voice. He’d never liked Emily getting involved in Zangarian affairs. “And she’s getting some of the blame, too.”
He shrugged. “Go have your date, if you want. Just keep yourself safe. And we’ll resume your apprenticeship when you return.”
Emily felt her heart leap. “I can’t wait.”

Chapter Three

Celeste was a city of magicians.
Emily felt the magic flowing through the air as she teleported to the pads outside the city, then walked through the gates and onto the streets. Magicians were everywhere, from powerful enchanters and alchemists to charmsmiths and herbalists. She saw thousands of people thronging the streets, an air of celebration echoing through the city even though it had been two months since the end of the war. Dozens of street artists were performing skits or singing songs or telling tall tales about how the necromancers had died. It was easy enough to tell who was funding the bards. They were praising their funders to the skies, while quietly overlooking everyone else. Emily concealed her amusement as she walked past a particularly loud bard, who was singing the praises of Prince Louis, Defeater of the Necromancers. She wasn’t very good with names and faces, but she was fairly sure there hadn’t been a Prince Louis in the army. She was entirely sure he hadn't bested Rangka the Necromancer in single combat.
She rolled her eyes as she walked up the streets, doing her best to ignore the hawkers as they tried to sell her everything from protective charms to prank spells more suited for children than grown adults. The items probably weren’t very well charmed, she thought, or the charmsmiths would have shops of their own, rather than trying to sell crap to unwitting tourists. She stepped past one particularly persistent hawker and stopped, dead, as she spotted a large statue of a fantastically endowed woman. That hadn’t been there, the last time she’d visited the city. Her eyes narrowed as she spotted the words carved under the statue. EMILY, NECROMANCER’S BANE.
Emily didn’t know if she should laugh or cry. The statue was... absurd. It was so badly out of proportion that it looked more like an absurd parody than anything else. She tried to imagine how such a person would walk and drew a blank. Void had cautioned her to wear a hood and cloak, but... if they expected to find someone who looked like the statue, they’d take one glance at her and decide she couldn’t possibly be the Necromancer’s Bane. Charlie Chaplin had once entered a lookalike competition and lost, even though he’d been a star of stage and screen. Emily... she was fairly sure no one would notice if she walked down the street. The descriptions of her she’d read in the broadsheets were vague, when they had even the slightest hint of accuracy.
Shaking her head in disbelief, she walked past a bookshop and paused long enough to glance through the window. There were hundreds of new books in view, from fiction to stories of the war and biographies of powerful figures. She was amused to note a string of books written by exiles, blasting King Jorlem of Alluvia for a string of crimes that she thought weren’t physically possible.  A magician with a total lack of scruples could do one hell of a lot, but there were limits. There were more, she noted, including a book that claimed to have been written by Alassa’s former Mistress of the Bedchamber. The picture on the front was a fantasy. They hadn’t even gotten the hair color right!
The bookseller stepped outside and waved at her. “We just got a new shipment, My Lady,” he said.  “Would you like to browse?”
“No, thank you,” Emily said. She was tempted to ask if the bookshop had a book on her, but she didn’t want to know the answer. “I’ll be back later.”
The bookseller smiled and hurried back into his shop. Emily turned and headed up the street. She would have loved to browse, to search the shelves for ancient tomes that might have been lost years ago only to resurface in a bookshop, but she didn’t have time. She was already pushing it. The streets seemed to grow more crowded as she passed a pair of dancers, hooting and hollering as they swung around and around. Emily didn’t know what they were doing, but the children and their parents seemed to like it. She felt a flicker of envy as she saw a handful of girls standing beside their loving parents. Would her life have been better or worse, she asked herself, if she’d been raised in the Nameless World? Or would she have found herself a pawn? Melissa had been very lucky to escape such a fate...
She smiled as she saw the restaurant, on the edge of the residential quarter. Jan was standing outside, looking slightly nervous. Emily hesitated, wondering just what was going through his head. Void hadn’t told him his letters had been held back until she recovered. He must have thought she was ignoring him. Or... she sighed inwardly, remembering how angry Cat had been at the accusation he’d left her to die. It wasn’t his fault, but it hadn’t stopped too many of the others accusing him of cowardice. And Jan hadn’t been allowed to go to the war in the first place. He hadn’t had a chance to prove himself.
Silly, Emily thought. Half the problems she’d encountered on the Nameless World could have been solved if one side had backed down and the other agreed not to rub it in too much. Or at all. It wasn’t his fault either.
“Jan,” she called.
Jan looked up, spotted her and smiled. He looked surprisingly young, even though he couldn’t have been more than a year or two older than she was. He was tall, a head taller than her, with tanned skin, dark brown eyes and an infectious smile. He’d donned the shirt and trousers of a merchant’s son, rather than an apprentice’s robes. Emily guessed, as she gave him a hug, that he was rebelling against his master. Master Lucknow had always seemed the type of person to insist on observing the formalities at all times.
“Emily,” Jan said, quietly. “Welcome to Celeste.”
“It’s been a while,” Emily said. She allowed him to open the door, then followed him into the restaurant. “I’m sorry about the long silence.”
“It’s alright,” Jan said. “Master Lucknow kept me very busy.”
Emily grinned. “Did he say anything about granting you your mastery?”
“Not yet.” Jan frowned as they sat down. “You know he was away during the war? Left me alone, without any supervision? And now he’s back and... he gave me a bunch of work to do, but otherwise he seems occupied elsewhere. He hasn’t sat down with me to discuss my progress, let alone offer me new lessons. I don’t know what he’s doing.”
“Void’s been busy too,” Emily said. “He thought I needed time to recover.”
Jan gave her a questioning look. “What happened? I heard rumors...”
“They’re not true,” Emily said, quickly. She had no idea what the rumors were, but she was sure they were untrue. “I went into a necromancer’s lair and came out alive. Again.”
“Again,” Jan echoed. “You didn’t get yourself killed?”
“No,” Emily said. It wasn’t entirely true - her bilocated self had died - but she was alive. She’d survived. “I just got a little hurt.”
She sat back in her chair as the waitress came over to take their orders. It still struck her as strange that hamburgers and pizzas were regarded as luxury foods, even though they were relatively simple to make. She supposed it made a certain kind of sense - she’d taught her kitchen staff to make them and her staff had then sold the concept as noble food - but it still bothered her. She wasn’t sure why. She had no interest in banning people from eating whatever they liked... she shook her head. It wasn’t her problem.
“I’ll have a cheeseburger with fries,” she said. “Jan?”
“The same,” Jan said. He grinned at her as the waitress retreated. “Master Lucknow won’t allow newfangled foods in his home.”
Emily smiled. “Where is he now?”
“The White City, I think,” Jan said. “He told me not to expect him back for a week or two.”
“Ouch,” Emily said. “What’ll that do for your apprenticeship?”
“I don’t know.” Jan was suddenly serious. “I want to graduate quickly, but I need to be ready first. And the longer I take to graduate...”
Emily nodded in understanding. Apprentices were supposed to complete their masteries as quickly as possible. The longer it took, the less respect the newborn master would have when he passed his exams. Jan was caught in a bind, unable to graduate and yet unable to seek out another master. It wasn’t something that had really bothered her - she didn’t have to look for employment, when she completed her studies - but she could see how it would irk someone else. Jan might have a delayed mastery through no fault of his own.
“I had an offer,” Jan added. “A bunch of my old schoolmates were talking about moving south and setting up shop in the Blighted Lands. They figured it was time to get there before someone else did. What do you think?”
Cat’s already trying to set up his own country, Emily thought. She’d read his letter with great interest. And he’s running into a bunch of problems.
She took a moment to compose her thoughts. “It will be a long time before the Blighted Lands are fit for human habitation. The handful of inhabitants I encountered were barely keeping themselves alive, barely managing... they weren’t really growing enough. They would have had real problems if the necromancers hadn’t been farming them like animals. Your friends may discover they have problems setting up shop there.”
Particularly if they don’t have a nexus point, her thoughts added silently. They would have real problems just warding themselves against magical storms.
Jan cocked his head. “Do you think it’s worth trying?”
“I think it will be very far from easy,” Emily said. “And they shouldn’t leap into it without careful preparation.”
She frowned. There was a land grab going on. Void had said as much. Magicians would be taking the lead, if only because they could teleport across the Craggy Mountains. But it wouldn’t be long before Alluvia and the other southern kingdoms started trying to claim the mountains themselves. America hadn’t seemed very useful back before the War of Independence, to the point the British had given up territorial claims on the mainland in exchange for the sugar islands. It had taken two centuries for America to become the linchpin of the world. Who knew what the new kingdoms would become?
Jan started to say something, then stopped as the waitress returned with their food. Emily felt her mouth water as she picked up a fry and ate it. The burger was nothing like the greasy fast food she’d eaten on Earth. It was huge, cooked perfectly; she wondered, suddenly, if she’d be able to eat the whole thing. The waitress would be happy to let her take it home, she was sure, or simply eat the remainder herself. Emily shrugged, reminding herself she had to eat if she wanted to power her magic. A magician who ate poorly would find it hard to cast any spells.
She looked around with interest as more customers entered the restaurant and greeted the waitress. They looked upper-class, although it was hard to tell in a city-state where Sumptuary Laws didn’t exist. They were definitely magicians, magicians who weren’t making any attempt to mask their power. Void had insisted that was a show of insecurity, a hint that the braggart thought he had little to brag about. Emily tended to agree, if only because an unmasked magician was making himself a target. Too many others would come out of the woodwork to challenge him to a fight.
“I don’t know what’ll happen,” Jan said, as he finished his meal. “The world seems to have turned upside down.”
“And everyone is trying to pretend that everything is still normal,” Emily agreed. “It isn’t easy to change.”
Jan stood. “You want a tour of the city?”
“Why not?” Emily stood and took his hand. “Or...”
He smiled, suddenly. “You want to visit my lair? I can show you my charms.”
Emily couldn’t help herself. She giggled. “What will Master Lucknow say?”
“I’m allowed to have guests, as long as they don’t go into his private chambers,” Jan said, seriously. “He’s never objected to anyone before.”
“I’m surprised,” Emily said. “Void isn’t keen on me bringing people home.”
“I imagine he has more secrets,” Jan said. He made a show of looking both ways, then lowering his voice. “Master Lucknow isn’t that special.”
Emily grinned. Jan would be for the high jump, perhaps literally, if Master Lucknow heard that. And... she hesitated, unsure of herself. Jan wasn’t inviting her home to see his magical charms. She was sure of it. He wanted to take their relationship to the next level by inviting her, giving her the opportunity to say no. She was torn between the awareness it had been a long time and the grim certainty it would make her life more complicated. She liked him and...
She made her choice. “Why not?”
Jan took her arm, paid and led her onto the streets. Emily relaxed into his arm, feeling his muscles under the shirt. Jan was strong and healthy - fat magicians were surprisingly rare - and yet he had a sense of calm and composure that made her feel safe. Caleb and she had done a lot of fumbling, she recalled; Cat and she had had a dramatic affair that had burnt out spectacularly. In hindsight, she shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d warned her they could never be more than lovers. If he’d told her that before they’d slept together...
The streets seemed emptier as they walked away from the shopping district, although the air was humming with wards... more wards, she noted, than she’d sensed on her previous visit. Industrial espionage was rife amongst magicians, with lesser wizards trying to steal the inventions of their superiors and reverse-engineer them into something more useful, but... this was different. The wards were designed to repel necromancer-level attacks, layer upon layer of charms woven into a protective mesh... her heart sank as she realized the truth. They were designed to stop battery-powered spells. She hadn’t expected the secret to leak so quickly. Everyone had sworn oaths to keep the truth to themselves.
They probably didn’t tell, she thought. But someone might have spied on them charging a battery and figured out the truth.
Jan glanced at her as they reached a mid-sized house. “Emily?”
“It’s okay,” Emily said. It wasn’t his fault. “I was just thinking...”
“A terrible habit,” Jan said, dryly. He led her through a maze of wards, then opened the door and cancelled two more. “Don’t try to get into any locked rooms.”
“I understand,” Emily said. “I pledge to hold my hand in your house.”
She looked around with interest as they walked through the door and into a reception room. Master Lucknow seemed to favor the minimalist approach, although he’d installed a sofa and a pair of comfortable armchairs. There were no paintings on the walls, no drinks cabinet... nothing to suggest that visitors were particularly welcome. Powerful wards pulsed through the stone, ensuring that no one could spy on the conversation. She was unsure what it said about the owner’s personality. She’d been in rooms designed to give away as little as possible to unwelcome guests.
“I have my own lab,” Jan said. He sounded nervous, rather than boastful. “Would you like to see it? Or would you like a drink?”
“Just water,” Emily said. She sat on the sofa, heart beating like a drum. “Or juice.”
Jan stepped out the door and returned, carrying two glasses of juice. He sat next to her, his eyes flickering everywhere but never quite meeting hers. Emily remembered Caleb and smiled, feeling a twinge of guilt and regret. Things could have been better... she wondered, suddenly, if Caleb had found someone new. He’d been spending time with a couple of girls at Heart’s Eye.
“I...”
Jan leaned forward and kissed her. It wasn’t their first kiss, but... Emily leaned into the kiss, wrapping her arms around him as it grew more and more passionate. Her body wanted him, despite the risks of complicating her life even further. His hands stroked her back, brushing against her dress. She wondered if he’d have the nerve to undo her clasp or touch her breasts... she felt a thrill of anticipation. Not knowing was half the fun.
She smiled as he drew back slightly, trying to look inviting. Cat had never hesitated. Caleb... she told herself, firmly, to stop thinking of them as Jan moved forward to kiss her again. His kisses grew harder, his hands reaching around to touch her... she pulled him closer, inviting him to straddle her. Her heart was still pounding like a drum...
The wards flickered, signaling an alert. Someone was at the door. Jan jumped off her so fast she thought she’d blasted him with a force punch, pulling his shirt into place before hurrying to the door. Emily swallowed hard, torn between murderous anger and embarrassment. Whoever was at the door had interrupted them and... she felt a sudden urge to rip the person to shreds or call Jan back and tell him to ignore the newcomer. How dare they?
“Emily,” Jan called. He sounded shocked. “It’s for you.”
Emily blinked. No one knew she’d come to Celeste. No one, but Void. He wouldn’t have come for her, yet... who else could it be? “For me?”
“Yes,” a new voice said. Lady Barb stepped into the room. “We have to talk.”

Chapter Four

Emily took a long breath, trying to compose herself.
It wasn’t easy. Lady Barb... the last she’d heard, Lady Barb had taken Sergeant Miles back to Whitehall. Emily hadn’t expected Lady Barb to seek her out, let alone interrupt her at a delicate moment. She felt a flash of bitter resentment, mingled with irritation and concern. Lady Barb wouldn’t have sneaked around to find her, not when she could just have written a letter. If she was sneaking around, she was doing it behind Void’s back.
“I’m sorry to surprise you,” Lady Barb said. If she knew what she’d interrupted, she had the grace not to mention it. “I needed to talk to you. Alone.”
Emily frowned. Lady Barb looked... older. She’d always been old enough to be Emily’s mother - she’d come to think of the older woman as a mother, of sorts - but now her blonde hair looked as if it was starting to turn white. They’d all been scarred in the war, yet... her blood ran cold as she remembered how Lady Barb had been hurt and almost killed. It was terrifying to think the older woman might be mortal and yet she couldn’t escape the thought. No one was immortal, not even Void.
“I’ll go work in my lab,” Jan said, breaking the awkward silence. “Or you can leave and go elsewhere.”
“Thank you,” Lady Barb said. “I won’t forget your kindness.”
Jan’s face flickered as he left the room. Emily would have smiled, if the situation hadn’t been so embarrassing. They’d been making out; they’d been on the verge of making love... she wouldn’t have blamed Jan for being angry and hurt that they’d been interrupted. She told herself to be grateful that no one else knew what happened. It was easier to handle if the rest of the world wasn’t laughing in your face.
“Nice young man,” Lady Barb commented, as she set up a handful of privacy wards. The house itself was heavily warded, but it was impossible to be sure Jan - or his master - couldn’t spy on them. They’d designed and constructed the wards. They wouldn’t have had any problems leaving a weakness in place, a trick they could use to spy on their guests. “Did I come at a bad time?”
“You could say that,” Emily said, crossly. Her body was intent on reminding her just how long it had been since... she put the thought aside, angrily. “It’s good to see you again, but...”
She broke off as a thought crossed her mind. “How did you find me?”
“Long story,” Lady Barb said. She shot a meaningful glance at the walls. “I wouldn’t have come here if I hadn’t been desperate.”
Emily frowned, then motioned for the older woman to continue.
“I need your help,” Lady Barb said. “And... you might have to argue with your master for me.”
Emily stared at her for a long moment. Lady Barb was deeply worried about... something. It was unlike her to dance around an issue, rather than simply stating what she wanted. And if she suspected Emily would have to argue with Void... what did she want? Lady Barb had been one of Void’s former apprentices. They didn’t get on.
“I can try,” Emily said, carefully. “What can I do for you?”
“I’ve been asked to investigate a growing crisis,” Lady Barb said. “And I cannot leave Miles for very long, not now.”
Emily shivered. “I thought... how is he?”
“Not great,” Lady Barb said. “The battery misfire - whatever really happened, back in the Blighted Lands - did some damage to his mind. He’s normal most of the time, but... he’s had fits of rage and other problems that require a skilled magician to keep him in check. Gordian is already making noises about finding a replacement, if Miles doesn’t recover in the next few months. He might have a point.”
“I’m sorry,” Emily said. The words felt so useless. Sergeant Miles had trained her for six years - she’d even been his apprentice, for a short period - and she’d counted him a friend as well as a teacher. He didn’t deserve to be lingering on the edge of madness. She felt guilt - she’d designed the batteries - as well as helplessness. She couldn’t think of anything she could do to help. “I wish...”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Lady Barb said, sharply. “He knew the risks. We all knew them.”
Emily flinched at her tone. Sergeant Miles might have known the risks, but... it had been her plan that had dragged him into the war and her innovation that had almost killed him. He could lose everything he valued in his life, from his sanity to his magic and physical strength, if his condition didn’t improve. She couldn’t help feeling responsible. It was no comfort to remember he’d understood what they’d been doing was dangerous.
Lady Barb unslung her bag and sat in one of the armchairs, her eyes fixed on Emily’s. “There is a crisis brewing at Laughter Academy,” she said. Her voice was clipped, as though she didn’t want to think about what she was saying. “A lot of weird incidents. Students misbehaving, often getting right out of hand. Some very nasty tricks played on the townspeople below the school. There’s no rhyme or reason, as far as anyone can tell. It makes no sense.”
“I see,” Emily said. She remembered her fourth year and shivered. “Did they check for demonic influence?”
“Yes.” Lady Barb smiled. It didn’t touch her eyes. “They checked for everything, once they realized they were dealing with more than the occasional schoolgirl spat. Potions? Subtle magic? Mental manipulation? Charms? They found nothing. A teacher did leave without explanation, but... if there’s a connection between her departure and the crisis gripping the school, it hasn’t been found. We just don’t know.”
She paused. “Whatever is going on, Emily, it’s getting out of hand. It has to be stopped.”
Emily nodded. “And there are no clues?”
“None,” Lady Barb said. “There have always been... problems... when magicians and mundanes meet and interact, as you know from Dragon’s Den and Heart’s Eye, but... this is worse. The students are starting to seriously misbehave, yet there appears to be no reason for their misbehavior or... anything. And I think...”
She let out a long breath. “Have you been keeping up with politics?”
“A little,” Emily said, carefully.
Lady Barb’s lips thinned. “The Allied Lands are in a mess. The White Council, which has been forced to leave the White City, is planning to call a conference to address all the issues that have started to get out of hand, everything that remained frozen while the necromancers were a threat. I think the bigger kingdoms and magical families will hammer out a compromise of some kind, then enforce it on the remainder of the Allied Lands. They’re trying to stop the defrost before the pressures for war get too strong to ignore. And they’re planning to hold that conference at Laughter.”
Emily blinked. The girls-only school had never struck her as particularly important. “At Laughter?”
“It makes a certain kind of sense,” Lady Barb said. “The school is politically neutral. No one can claim the Old Lady - the Headmistress - is beholden to anyone, save perhaps the school board. But rumors of trouble are already starting to spread. The conference won’t go ahead unless the problem is fixed, quickly.”
“And if the conference is repeatedly delayed,” Emily mused, “it might be unable to save the Allied Lands.”
“Yes,” Lady Barb agreed. “Didn’t Void discuss any of this with you?”
“Not really,” Emily said. “He insisted I should stay out of the firing line.”
“He hasn’t done you any favors,” Lady Barb said. “What you don’t know can kill you, and he knows it.”
She shook her head. “Emily, I was asked to investigate. I was supposed to take the place of the missing teacher - a junior tutor - and educate students, while finding out what was happening quietly. I can’t go, not now. There’s no way I can keep Miles with me at the school and no way I can leave him alone. Gordian will have him sent to the Halfway House before I get back.”
Emily nodded as the pieces fell into place. “You want me to go.”
“Yes,” Lady Barb said. “Lady Damia has agreed to accept you in my place, if you’re willing to serve. I don’t promise it will be easy - you’ll find it hard to adjust to teaching - but you have the skills and reputation to do it. We need answers, quickly. What has gone wrong, and why?”
“And you checked all the obvious answers,” Emily said. “Did the school call upon outside help?”
“So I’ve been given to understand,” Lady Barb said. “They were certainly willing to ask me to investigate. But I think you would be wise to leave no stone unturned. If there is some force involved beyond normal student obnoxiousness, it needs to be uncovered.”
“I understand.” Emily felt her heart sink. She’d been looking forward to getting back to her apprenticeship. Void was not going to be pleased. “I think...”
Her thoughts churned. She owed Lady Barb. She owed the older woman a great deal. Did she owe her enough to risk her apprenticeship? She hadn’t sworn the normal oaths - Void hadn’t asked for them, claiming they would damage her magic - but she was uneasily aware he could kick her out at any moment. The promise of learning secrets the rest of the world had forgotten was tantalizing, as was the prospect of pushing her magic into greater and greater realms. And yet... she looked down at her hands. She owed Lady Barb and Sergeant Miles. She couldn’t leave them when they needed her.
“I’ll go,” she said. She mentally started to compose her arguments. “When do they want me there?”
“As soon as possible,” Lady Barb said. “They wanted me to start in a couple of days. If you can get there tomorrow, I’d suggest you do. Reading between the lines, I think they’re a little desperate. The conference could make or break the school’s reputation. They have to put a lid on the crisis before it’s too late.”
“I’ll do my best,” Emily said. “What about Penny? Did you intend to take her with you?”
“Right now, Penny is staying in Kuching,” Lady Barb said. “Cat”- her lips twisted in something that could have easily been a smile or a sneer - “agreed to take over her apprenticeship, for the moment. I did ask her if she wanted to return, when I got the first letter from Lady Duchene, but she was reluctant. I don’t think she was happy there for her final two years.”
“I heard the story,” Emily said. “Or one version of it.”
“Yes.” Lady Barb frowned. “You can ask her, if you like, but I doubt she’d agree. And the school might refuse to have her back so quickly, well before everyone who knew her as a student graduated and left for other climes. It is never easy to make the jump from student to teacher, Emily, and it’s harder still when you’re only a year or two older than your students.”
She picked up her bag and opened it. “There’s a handful of documents here for you,” she said. “A brief description of the school and the senior teachers, the ones who have served long enough to earn a place on the board. A bunch of reports written by the teachers, plus the headmistress’s - Lady Duchene’s - official letter to me. And a couple of other things you might need. Read though them carefully before you go.”
“I will,” Emily said. She took the papers and placed them beside her, making a mental note to read them as soon as possible. She’d learnt the hard way that it was impossible to know what piece of knowledge might come in handy - and perhaps even save her life - until it did, and by then it was often too late. Void had taught her the value of studying everything. “I... can I ask a question?”
Lady Barb nodded, curtly.
“I was wondering...” Emily braced herself and started again. “I was wondering why you came here, instead of visiting the tower. You could have contacted me at any moment and I would have replied.”
“I wanted you to decide for yourself if you wanted to go,” Lady Barb said. “Your master might have refused to forward the message, or simply forbidden you from going. I... it had to be your choice, I thought.”
Emily said nothing for a long moment. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say. She wasn’t even sure how she felt. She would never have turned down Lady Barb’s request for help. Besides, the older woman was desperate. Emily knew Lady Barb well enough to know it had cost her a lot to admit she needed help. She’d built a reputation on being one of the most capable combat sorcerers in the Allied Lands. To ask for help, even from her former student and a friend...
“I won’t let you down,” she said, quietly. “What do you think is happening?”
“I don’t know,” Lady Barb said. “It’s possible someone with more power than common sense started leading the rest of the students to the dark side. Pranks and jokes can get out of hand very easily, as you know as well as I do. It could easily have started as a set of dares that grew and grew until everyone involved was too deeply implicated to back out. Or... Laughter has always had a slightly antagonistic relationship with the Allied Lands and the latest generation of students thinks they’re fighting to uphold the school’s rights.”
Her lips twisted, again. “Or... it’s possible that the tutors, who are desperate for the conference to come off successfully, are seeing a pattern that isn’t there. It’s very easy to put together a narrative that binds a dozen events together, then become convinced the narrative is true even though the events are unrelated. That’s how conspiracy theories get started.”
Emily nodded. No one in the Allied Lands believed the official story about anything. Kings lied. Aristocrats lied. Magicians and merchants and everyone lied. Even now, with broadsheets carrying news from across the world into every home on the continent, very few people believed what they heard or read. It was no surprise that conspiracy theories thrived. It was difficult, if not impossible, to trust anyone to tell the truth. 
“I’ll find out,” she said. “I wish” - she shook her head - “I did want to be a teacher, didn’t I?”
“A terrible profession,” Lady Barb said, deadpan. “I cannot imagine why you want to teach.”
She scowled. “More seriously, remember you’re not a student any longer,” she added. “That always causes trouble. Lots of students don’t really grow up until they’ve spent a couple of years out of school, and going back always leads to problems. You have to draw a line between yourself as student and yourself as teacher... which should be easier, at Laughter, as you were never a student there.  I don’t think you know anyone who goes to Laughter.”
“No,” Emily agreed. “Well, apart from Penny, but she graduated.”
“Write to her, if you like,” Lady Barb said. She stood, brushing down her robes. “And Emily...?”
Emily looked up. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry for springing all of this on you,” Lady Barb said. “It wasn’t how I wanted to handle the matter.”
“I understand,” Emily assured her. “Even if you did come at an awkward time.”
There was a glint of her old self in Lady Barb’s eyes. “That bad a time? I hope you remembered to use protective spells.”
Emily flushed. “We didn’t get that far.”
“I’m sorry,” Lady Barb said. She turned, then stopped and pointed at the papers. “Read them first, as I said, then make sure you send a reply. There’s teleport coordinates for the bottom of the peaks included. You’ll have to walk or ride up the road to Pendle, where you’ll meet Lady Damia. Traditionally, new staff and students walk to the school.”
“It’s been too long since I had a proper walk,” Emily said. She’d been walking in the Blighted Lands, but... it hadn’t been the same. She missed the Craggy Mountains near Whitehall. “And thank you.”
“Thank you,” Lady Barb said. She gave Emily a quick hug, then headed to the door. “If this causes you any trouble, I’ll do whatever I have to do to make it right.”
Emily frowned as Lady Barb left, closing the door behind her. The wards shimmered. She didn’t have to look round to know Jan was coming. Her mind raced, torn between pulling him back to the sofa to finish what they’d started and the grim awareness she needed to talk to Void as quickly as possible. Her master wasn’t going to be pleased. Emily knew she hadn’t sworn oaths to obey him, which would have made it impossible to leave against his will, but... she let out a breath. He should understand what was at stake. He should understand...
“She’s gone,” she said, without turning. “I’m sorry.”
Jan wrapped his arms around her, kissing the back of her neck. “It’s fine.”
No, it isn’t, Emily thought, as she turned to kiss his lips. His hands slipped down her back, threatening to slip into her waistband. I’m going to have to convince Void to let me go...
He pulled back. “How did she find you here?”
“I think she must have spotted me in Celeste,” Emily said. The mystery nagged at her. How had that happened? Lady Barb might have been watching the tower or... Void might have told her, except that couldn’t be true... or... Emily couldn’t think of any other possibilities. “I don’t know.”
Jan shrugged and leaned forward to kiss her again. Emily kissed him back, all too aware she would have to go soon and talk to Void. It wasn’t going to be a pleasant discussion...
... And she wasn’t looking forward to it at all.

Chapter Five

“Absolutely out of the question.”
Emily stood in front of Void, hands clasped behind her back, struggling to keep her face completely expressionless. She’d gotten back later than she’d intended and stowed the papers in her chambers, then had a quick shower before requesting a formal interview with her master. That might have been a mistake, she conceded ruefully. She’d never paid much attention to the formalities, any more than Void himself. Requesting a formal interview had probably worried him.
“You are not fully recovered,” Void said, flatly. “You are constantly tiring yourself out. You are sleeping poorly, when you are sleeping at all. And you need to get back to your apprenticeship. We lost a considerable amount of time when you went off to fight in the war. And now you want to go off again?”
“Yes.” Emily met his eyes, as evenly as she could. “It needs to be done.”
“And Lady Barb didn’t see fit to contact me directly?” Void looked thoroughly displeased. “She should have put the request through me, not sneaked around and waited for a time to speak to you alone.”
Emily hesitated. “Would you have forwarded the request to me?”
“I would have warned you of the dangers,” Void said. “The situation is grim and...”
“You didn’t even tell me there was going to be a conference,” Emily said. “Why didn’t you keep me informed...?”
“Neither you nor I have been invited,” Void said. There was a hint of anger in his tone, although it didn’t seem to be directed at her. “There may not even be a conference, Emily. Half the people who have been invited have a vested interest in the conference not actually going ahead. They’re still arguing over the shape of the conference tables and social ranks and precedence and nonsense like that. I think they’re just hoping to run out the clock before they start binding themselves to agreements they have no intention of honoring.”
Emily let out a breath. “And that means they’ll go straight to war?”
“There’s already been a bunch of brushfire wars,” Void said. “Small engagements, really, but it’s just a matter of time. The Allied Lands were held together by the threat of the necromancers, and now that threat is gone. Add the chaos caused by the problems in the White City and the entire continent is sitting on top of a destabilizing potion. There’s nothing we can do about it.”
“You didn’t tell me anything about the White City,” Emily said. “What happened?”
Void seemed to look into the distance. “There was - there is - a nexus point under the White Palace. It came back to life, as you know. The magic is spreading into the city, following patterns laid down a long time before the Faerie Wars. The wards set up to protect the city are melting like snow in the glare of the sun. Right now, the city has been largely evacuated, rendering the White Council effectively homeless. Its authority has been shattered at the worst possible time.”
He snorted. “There was some talk about sending you into the palace,” he said. “I believe it was vetoed before they made a formal approach to me.”
Emily felt a flash of anger. “You don’t own me.”
“You are my apprentice,” Void said, with a hint of exasperation. “I have first call on your... services. I also have a duty to protect you from potential enemies, both mine who see you as my heir and your very own impressive stable of enemies. I may not own you, as you say, but I have responsibilities towards you. And yes, those sometimes include forbidding you to do something dangerous.”
His face twisted. “They were scared of what you might do, in the palace. Or, perhaps, what you might find.”
“They don’t have to be scared of me,” Emily said, hotly.
“Emily, as far as they are concerned, you are an agent of change and chaos,” Void said. “They don’t know you. Even the ones who’ve met you don’t understand you. They just know your reputation. You have a talent, a very strong talent, for turning the world upside down. Yes, they’re scared. For all they know, you might be the lost Heir to the Empire who will take the throne and change everything. Again.”
“That’s impossible,” Emily said. “I wasn’t even born on this world.”
Void raised a single eyebrow. “And how many of them actually know it?”
“None,” Emily said. Only a handful of people knew the truth. “But they can’t believe...”
“It’s been over two centuries,” Void said. “It’s possible you might be an heir, without ever knowing it. There’s never been any shortage of rumors about farmer boys awakening to a great destiny or girls discovering they were actually the daughters of noblemen, placed with foster families to keep them safe from their enemies. No one who knows where you come from would believe it, of course, but none of them do. And they’d wonder if I’d fostered you to protect you from all the kings and patriarchies who have a vested interest in preventing the return of a true heir.”
Emily shook her head. “I don’t want to rule.”
“Emily, there aren’t many people who’d believe that.” Void shot her a sharp look. “Everyone wants power. Everyone wants to secure their position. Everyone wants to ensure they have something they can hand down to their children and grandchildren. You tell them you don’t want to rule and they’ll think you’re lying. The idea that someone might not want to take power for themselves is beyond them.”
He looked down at his hands. “Right now, the situation is in flux. Half the world is just waiting for someone to cough so they can take it as a sign to start something violent. And it is my considered opinion, as your master and teacher, that you would be better off staying out of it. Getting involved would make you a lightning rod and draw the ire of all parties.”
Emily stared at him. “I can’t,” she said. “Lady Barb asked me to...”
“You don’t owe her anything,” Void said, sharply. “And she—”
“I do,” Emily interrupted. “She’s done so much for me, over the years. She... she’s been a better mother than my real mother ever was. I can’t sit here and do nothing when she needs my help.”
“There are others who could investigate,” Void said. He scowled at the papers she’d placed on his desk. “Other places they could hold the conference too, if they wished. Emily, they could simply shut down the school long enough to hold the conference, if they think the students are likely to be little” - his lips quirked - “witches. You’re not needed.”
“Lady Barb asked me, specifically,” Emily said. “She needs me.”
“And she chose to ask you indirectly, circumventing me,” Void said. “What does that tell you about her?”
Emily felt frustrated. “That she thought you wouldn’t pass on the request?”
Void’s face went blank, a sure sign he was angry. “Emily, the more you involve yourself in politics, the harder it will be to protect you. You are no longer a student at Whitehall, protected by my brother. You are a grown woman with a reputation that cuts both ways. Some love you. Some fear you. Some see you as a challenge to be overcome. Lady Barb should know - she does know - that she’s asking you to jump into a hurricane. Laughter is not friendly territory to you, or any other reformer. Sending you there... this is not a simple request. This is a request you involve yourself in politics to the point...”
“Lady Barb would not send me into danger,” Emily snapped, interrupting. Void hadn’t protested so much when Master Lucknow had led her off to war, even though she’d had to fulfil her oath to the Unseelie. “She needs...”
“She’s already taken you into danger,” Void pointed out. “Your little trip to the Cairngorms could have ended very badly. And she’s allowed others to send you into danger, too.”
Emily glared. “And you’re the one who sent me to Dragora and all the other little tasks you had me perform for you. You let me go off to war...”
“It is part of my duties to protect you,” Void said, cutting her off. “I am not required to coddle you. I set you tasks that would challenge you, but tasks I was sure you could handle... growing stronger and more capable in the process. Lady Barb is sending you into a whirlwind that could easily consume you, if things go terribly wrong, or smear your reputation. School politics are not your forte, Emily, and you’re really too young to take on any sort of teaching role. I should not let you go.”
“She needs me,” Emily said. She braced herself, feeling caught between her two parental figures, and pushed on. “She... helped me. She taught me. She saved my life, more than once; she told me things that would have otherwise blindsided me. I owe her and I owe Sergeant Miles. He deserves better than to be lingering on the verge of madness, madness caused by one of my innovations.”
“Yes, he does,” Void agreed, pensively. “So few people get what they deserve.”
“I have to go,” Emily said. “I... I understand your concerns. I want to resume my studies, too. But I’m not going to leave Lady Barb stranded...”
“She isn’t stranded,” Void said. “There are other people she could send in her place. She doesn’t even have to go herself, if you refuse. No one will fault her for taking care of her lover.”
“She’ll fault herself,” Emily said. “And it’ll gnaw at her until the day she dies.”
“And you want to put yourself into danger to save her from the guilt,” Void said, quietly. “Emily, you are not responsible for everything. Whatever is happening at Laughter, it isn’t your concern.”
“It is, because I owe her,” Emily insisted. “She deserves better, too.”
Void said nothing for a long, chilling moment. “And if I told you that, if you left now, you could not return?”
Emily studied him. “Are you going to tell me that I cannot return?”
She gritted her teeth. She wanted to resume her studies. The thought of being unable to return was terrifying. And yet, she couldn’t ignore Lady Barb’s request. She owed the older woman too much. And... she met his eyes, wondering what would happen if she gave in to emotional blackmail. She’d met too many people who used it to have any doubts about the outcome. She’d be blackmailed again and again until she couldn’t take it anymore.
You’re being paranoid, she told herself. He has a right to be concerned.
“No,” Void said. He stood. “However, I expect you to be careful. I cannot accompany you to Laughter, Emily, and I cannot send Silent with you. Servants are not welcome within the school. She could take up residence in the town, but she wouldn’t be with you.”
“I’m sure she’d welcome the break,” Emily said. She hadn’t intended to take anyone with her. “She can go see her family.”
“If she wishes.” Void sounded indifferent. “Like I said, be careful. Stay out of politics as much as possible. Laughter tries to maintain some distance between itself and the White Council, but the school cannot afford to ignore politics completely. Like Whitehall, what happens within its wards can and does affect matters a long way from the school. Don’t let the academics drag you into their petty feuds. Go in, solve their problem and get out.”
He made a face. “And try not to get too involved in the school itself,” he added. “You don’t have the maturity, not yet, to understand the importance of detachment.”
Emily felt stung. “I am mature.”
“Having to say you’re mature is proof you’re not,” Void teased. “And you will find it very hard not to revert to old habits, once you’re back in a school. I knew someone who graduated from Whitehall and remained as a teacher, without taking the time to get any real-life experience. He was a boy in an adult’s body, to the point he simply couldn’t be a reasonable teacher. I have no idea why he wasn’t summarily fired after the first incident or two. It wasn’t until my brother took the reins that he was finally given the boot.”
“Ouch,” Emily said. “What happened?”
“It’s impossible to be both an effective father-figure and, at the same time, one of the boys,” Void said, curtly. “He got involved in petty student disputes, practically pretending to be a student himself while wielding the authority of a teacher; he flirted with female students, perhaps even seducing them, while...”
Emily felt sick. “And the previous Grandmaster let it happen?”
“I don’t know what was going through that Grandmaster’s head,” Void told her. “The student never really grew up, at least until it was too late. Point is, he simply failed to keep a distance between himself and the students. He saw the boys as his friends and enemies and the girls as potential conquests. I think he wasn’t mature enough to understand what he was doing or why it was wrong. Perhaps that’s why the old Grandmaster tolerated it. My brother was made of sterner stuff.”
“Good for him,” Emily said. “I wouldn’t...”
“It can be very easy to blur the line,” Void warned. “And the effects are never good.”
He grimaced. “Really, you got a lot of special treatment. Sergeant Miles took you as a temporary apprentice, Lady Barb treated you as a daughter, the Grandmaster didn’t expel you when - technically - he should have done... even Gordian, the indecisive man, didn’t come down on you like a ton of bricks. And I’d be surprised if some of your former classmates didn’t resent it.”
“Jacqui certainly did,” Emily said, with a shiver. Her former nemesis had come within a hairsbreadth of killing her - or worse. She’d never seen Jacqui as a real threat until it was almost too late. “If there are others...”
“I wouldn’t waste time worrying about it,” Void said. “Go write a letter to Lady Duchene to inform her you’ll be on your way, then pack a bag. Don’t take too much. They’ll provide clothes and everything else you might need. Make sure you don’t take anything on the forbidden list. And then you can study until dinnertime.”
Emily nodded and glanced at her watch. It was late afternoon. She should have enough time to pack, then study the letters before joining Void for dinner and heading to bed. She made a mental note to check time zones before she slept, just to make sure she avoided teleport lag as much as possible. There were spells and potions that were supposed to help magicians cope, but she’d never liked them. The side effects tended to be unpleasant.
“Thank you,” she said. She leaned forward and gave him a hug. “It means a lot to me.”
“Thank me later,” Void said, curtly. He hadn’t returned the hug. “I don’t think I’ve done you any favors.”
Emily nodded, then released him and turned to leave. She could feel him watching as she walked through the door, closing it behind her. He had every right to be displeased, she acknowledged quietly; he had every right to tell her she couldn’t go... she wondered, sourly, what would have happened if she’d sworn the normal oaths. Would she have been compelled to obey? Would he have been compelled to protect her, even against her will? She allowed herself a flicker of relief as she reached her chambers. She wasn’t sure what she would have done if Void had told her she had to choose between helping Lady Barb and keeping the apprenticeship.
I’m not the only one being held back, she reminded herself. Jan is in the same boat, too.
She smiled - she’d enjoyed the afternoon with Jan, even if they had been interrupted at an awkward moment - then sat down to read the papers for the second time. Lady Barb hadn’t missed a trick. She’d attached copies of everything from the school prospectus to reports written by former pupils, including Penny. Emily skimmed them, then wrote a handful of notes. It wouldn’t be easy to get a letter to Lady Damia in time to arrange a meeting, but the postage service claimed it could be done. She’d just have to go down to the town tomorrow to make sure she got a reply.
Or just go to the school anyway, she thought. It wasn’t something she’d normally do, but... it might be interesting. I wonder what they’ll make of me.
There was a knock on the door. Emily opened it with a quick spell. Silent stepped inside, carrying a handful of books and scrolls. Emily felt her heart sink as she realized there wouldn’t be anywhere near enough time to read them all, not before she had to go. Silent took the letter Emily offered her, then left as quietly as she’d come. Emily wondered if the maid knew, yet, that she’d be getting a paid break. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as much of a relief as Emily thought. Compared to some of the royal brats she’d met over the years, Emily was very low maintenance indeed.
She smiled at the thought, then started to pack. That was something that would normally be left to the maids, but Emily had always preferred doing it herself. She packed a couple of simple dresses and a small collection of underwear, then a pair of trousers and shirts. She’d wear her cloak as she walked up to the town, then go to the school. She wasn’t sure what the dress code would be like inside the school - the prospectus hadn’t said anything about what teachers were meant to wear - but she had a feeling she’d find out when she arrived. The school probably had arrangements with local seamstresses. Whitehall had a highly profitable arrangement with tailors in Dragon’s Den. It had never failed to both amuse and irritate her in equal measure. 
Picking up a charged battery, she placed it inside the bag and then tied it closed with a charm. It wasn’t completely secure - Void could break the spells, she was sure - but it would be very hard to put the charms back together afterwards without alerting her. There weren’t many magicians who’d be able to parse out the little kinks in the spellwork, not when the mere act of looking would change things. She’d know if someone had been through her stuff...
I hope, she thought, as she turned and headed for the door. But I’m not bringing anything incriminating anyway. 

Chapter Six

The air was fresh and clear, yet bitingly cold. Emily took a long breath as the remnants of the teleport spell faded, lifting her head to peer towards the Howling Peaks. The mountains looked oddly crooked, as if they’d been shaped by forces beyond her comprehension. A castle sat on top of the nearest mountain, somehow dominating the surrounding terrain even though it looked remarkably small for a magic school. It was probably an illusion, she decided, as her eyes tracked the road leading into the mountains. Lady Barb’s teleport coordinates had placed her at the bottom, just above a mid-sized city. It made sense, Emily decided. One couldn’t get a sense of the sheer vastness of the landscape if one didn’t walk up to Pendle itself.
She gazed at the mountains for a long moment. They looked less challenging than the mountains near Whitehall, although there was something intimidating about them that sent a shiver down her spine. The hills were covered in dark green trees - evergreen trees, she guessed - that seemed so tightly bunched together that it was difficult to believe anyone could walk through them. And yet, people clearly had. She could spot a handful of huts on the mountainside, surrounded by white flecks that were almost certainly sheep. It would be a lonely life, but she could see the attractions. The shepherds would be able to keep their distance from the rest of the world. 
Shaking her head, she slung her bag over her shoulder and started to walk. The air seemed to grow warmer as she headed up the road, although it was still strikingly cold. She pulled her cloak around her, remembering the days when the sergeants had made their students run endless laps around the field just to warm up. Her heart twisted as she realized Sergeant Miles might have to take early retirement if he couldn’t fight his way back to normal. She’d seen him take a hell of a lot of damage and keep going. The thought of being brought down by a threat he couldn’t fight...
Maybe I can find him a place at Heart’s Eye or Cockatrice, she thought, although she knew Sergeant Miles wouldn’t want charity from her. He might not be allowed to teach at the university, if his sanity was impaired, but... there’d be something for him to do. Surely. I can find a way to present it that doesn’t feel like charity.
She put the thought out of her head as the road grew steeper. It was in astonishingly good condition - most roads in mountainous regions were poorly maintained, if only to deter taxmen - but she still found it hard going as it wove its way into the mountains. She forced herself to keep going, sensing flickers of magic and life darting through the air. Insects hummed around her, birds flew overhead... it wasn’t uncommon to see dragons in the mountains, even the mountains fairly close to human habitations, but she couldn’t see any resting on the peaks. She guessed they didn’t want to fly too close to the school. If there was anywhere likely to prove dangerous to an adult dragon, it was a school of magic.
The view sharpened as she rounded a corner and found herself staring up at the school. It seemed larger now, its previous smallness a trick of the light. She could see another castle on the next peak, a ruin that looked to have come right out of a horror movie. The prospectus claimed the ruined castle was part of the school, but it hadn’t said much about what had happened to the building. Perhaps a dragon had attacked it. She couldn’t think of much else, at least in the days before gunpowder, that could have shattered a castle. The necromancers had never come so far from the Blighted Lands.
Odd they never rebuilt it, she mused. It wouldn’t be easy to repair the damage, but she’d seen castles built in worse places. Why didn’t they?
Emily paused to rest, kicking herself for not thinking to bring water. She should have known. Sergeant Miles would say sharp things to her... she wished, suddenly, that he could say sharp things to her. It would be a sign he was getting better... perhaps. She brushed sweat from her forehead, then resumed the walk. The risks of teleporting the rest of the way were just too great...
She froze as she saw bats swarming around the castle. Bats? She stared, then muttered a spell to sharpen her eyesight. They weren’t bats; they were flying girls. Emily stared, shocked. A single spell would be more than enough to send the witches plunging to their deaths. And yet, they glided through the air with the greatest of ease. She felt an odd flicker of envy, mingled with fear. Penny had told her that the unknown intruder had screwed up the flying display, injuring dozens of students and guests. It would be easy, so easy, to bring the flock of witches crashing down.
They need parachutes, Emily thought. It would be easy enough to set up a safety net, perhaps using a nexus point for power, but only within the school itself. Anyone with magic and a grudge could kill them effortlessly.
She stared for a moment longer, feeling a sense of wonder. She’d seen so much, over the last few years, that it was difficult to remember feeling this way about anything. She was used to the Nameless World, used to magic and primitive technology and attitudes straight out of the Dark Ages... she shook her head. It was good to remember there was magic in the world, that magic was... wonderful as well as terrifying. She cancelled the vision spell, then resumed her walk. She’d have to learn how to fly later, once she was settled in. She had no doubt someone would be willing to teach her.
It might be useful, she reminded herself. And I could use a battery to power the spell...
It felt like hours - her legs certainly complained that it must be hours - before she crested the valley’s ridge and walked down into Pendle. The maps had made the town look small, but - to her complete lack of surprise - it was actually around the same size as Dragon’s Den. The road led right through town, the street flanked by shops clearly designed to cater to student magicians. She spotted a handful of apothecaries, bookshops and even a couple of fancy-looking restaurants and inns along the main street. Judging by the number of alleyways leading into darkened streets, there were plenty of places that were cheaper - or darker - within easy reach. She made a face as she spotted a pub. Magicians weren’t supposed to drink alcohol - it was banned in all of the magic schools - but she’d seen more than enough young magicians indulging themselves. She hoped the pub’s owner had warded his building thoroughly. Alcohol-induced idiocy was depressingly common. She was surprised the school hadn’t shut the pub down.
The pub is probably used by the locals, she thought. And it isn’t as if they could say no to the magicians.
Her eyes narrowed as she walked down the street. It was the weekend - Laughter followed the same schedule as the other schools - but the town was suspiciously quiet. There was a feeling of impending trouble in the air, as if the townspeople were keeping their heads down and trying not to be noticed. There should have been dozens, perhaps hundreds, of people on the streets, but she could barely see anyone. And yet, she could feel eyes watching her as she made her way past the stagecoach inn. They didn’t feel friendly.
A peal of laughter rang out. She turned to see a pair of girls - they couldn’t be older than eighteen - running out of the alleyway and across the streets. Their giggles brought back unhappy memories of the days when she’d been alone and friendless and utterly hopeless... Emily shivered, despite herself. The girls wore long grey skirts that brushed against the ground, suggesting they were junior students. She couldn’t help thinking the uniform was ugly, as well as impractical. One of the girls had to hike up her skirts to run properly. 
Odd, Emily thought. What are they running from?
She remained wary as she kept walking down the street, noting the handful of other oddities. Female shopkeepers were far from unknown in the magical community, but it looked as if each and every shop on the main street was owned or operated by a woman. She couldn’t see any male shopkeepers at all. The bookshop was crammed with the usual collection of fake ancient tomes, modern textbooks and fiction... her lips quirked as she spotted one of Frieda’s favorite blue books in the window display. Emily had read better fan fiction, but... she supposed it didn’t matter. It helped Frieda and her fellows learn to read, and that was all that mattered. The cover was so explicit Emily was surprised it hadn’t been banned. And anyone who actually tried to copy the movement on the cover would probably wind up with broken bones.
The wind shifted. She kept walking, her stomach rumbling as she tasted hints of bread and cooked meat in the air. She was tempted to stop and eat something, but she didn’t have time. Lady Damia’s reply had insisted she’d meet Emily at the Outpost, an hour after noon. Emily was all too aware she was pushing it. Her eyes narrowed as she spotted a piece of graffiti on the wall, remaining firm despite the best efforts of the female shopkeeper. PENDLE WILL RISE AGAIN. Emily winced in sympathy. Someone had painted it right over the front window, blocking the view. Glass was expensive, particularly for merchants. Whoever had done the painting deserved to be flogged.
She stepped up beside the shopkeeper and touched the paint lightly. It had been charmed to stay on, no matter how vigorously the shopkeeper tried to wash it away. Emily tested the spell, then mustered her magic and banished the charms. The shopkeeper gave her an odd look, a mixture of gratitude and fear, then washed the rest of the graffiti away. Emily nodded to her and resumed her walk, making a mental note to raise the issue later. It was something that would have to be addressed...
Three girls stepped out of an alleyway to block her path. Magic sparkled around their fingertips, as if they were ready to curse or hex her at a moment’s notice. Emily would have been intimidated, if she hadn’t faced necromancers and other - far more dangerous - threats. She felt a flicker of... something... as she studied the girls, remembering the mean girls of her youth. They might have magic, instead of cheerleading skills, but the expressions on their faces were practically identical. They were queens, as far as they were concerned, and woe betide anyone who challenged them. Emily looked from face to face, torn between old memories and naked irritation. The girls just weren’t that scary.
The leader - dark skinned, with blonde hair - snapped her fingers. Emily felt the magic levels rise, slightly. The girl was skillful enough, she noted, but she lacked either the raw power of a necromancer or the skill and cunning of a dark wizard. And she had no idea who she was facing. Emily remembered the paintings and statues of her and rolled her eyes. Of course the girl didn’t recognize her. Her closest friends wouldn’t see her in the paintings...
“Who are you?” The girl spoke with a musical accent, suggesting she’d been raised amongst the magical aristocracy. “What are you doing here?”
Emily met her eyes, evenly. “Is it any of your business?”
The girls shifted, angrily. The magic sparkled around them. They weren’t used to defiance. Emily guessed they’d taken her for a new student, perhaps even for an apprentice coming to study in the town itself. She wasn’t that much older than them. She’d given serious thought to entering Laughter as a student, rather than a junior tutor. The only thing that had kept her from proposing it was the grim truth that the last intruder had posed as a student.
“Yes,” the leader said. Behind her, her friends shifted. “Tell us who you are or we’ll hex you.”
Emily held the girl’s eyes as she unmasked her power. The girls stumbled back in shock, their mouths dropping open as they saw her clearly for the first time. Emily had masked her power well. They might not even have realized she was a magician, let alone one who was far above them. If they’d taken her for an apprentice... female apprentices were rare, outside the magical community, but they did exist. They might have taken her for a scribe or a chirurgeon or something else utterly mundane.
“Call me Emily,” she said. There was only one adult Emily, as far as she knew. She’d certainly never heard of anyone with the same name, at least until she’d made it popular. Alassa’s daughter wasn’t the only one who’d been named for the Necromancer’s Bane. “Please point me to the Outpost.”
“I...” The leader looked stunned. “I...”
“Please point me to the Outpost,” Emily repeated, putting as much ice in her voice as she could. The urge to just swat the girls was almost overpowering. They pushed too many of her buttons. “Now.”
“I... I beg your pardon, Lady Emily,” the leader said. She lifted a trembling hand and pointed towards a small house, resting on the road towards the school. “That’s the Outpost there.”
Emily nodded, then pointed towards the edge of the forest. “Scram.”
The girls ran. Emily watched them go, wondering who’d pay the price for their humiliation. She’d met too many people like them - boys as well as girls - to doubt they’d find a way to take their feelings out on someone else. The entire nobility was an endless chain of shit rolling downhill until it landed on the scullery maids and the lads who cleaned the privies, the poor commoners who were right on the bottom. She’d read a bunch of history books that made little sense until the reader worked out that a bunch of kings and noblemen had preferred to fight to the death, rather than swallow their pride and admit they’d lost. Or that they’d bitten off much more than they could chew. She wanted to call them back, to make it clear they weren’t to do anything of the sort, but she knew it would fall on deaf ears. They’d been unchallenged for too long for them to change overnight.
She shook her head and kept walking, climbing towards the Outpost. It looked like a bunker peering over the town, ready to rain cannon fire and curses down on the inhabitants if they displeased the witches in any way. She couldn’t help feeling a chill as she walked closer, wards poking and prodding at her as she made her way up the road. It wasn’t a surprise - Whitehall guarded the roads, too - but it still felt unpleasant. The witches had had centuries to weave their magic into the surrounding landscape, crafting spells to give them every possible advantage if their enemies attacked. She shivered as she looked at the ruined castle, wondering - again - what had torn charmed stone apart like paper. Even a dragon would have had problems.
A shape detached itself from the Outpost and stepped onto the road. Emily felt magic - stronger magic than the girls’ by far - peering at her. The witch was a strong magician, perhaps not on the same level as Void but certainly strong enough to prove a serious challenge. Emily raised a hand in greeting, mouth suddenly dry. It was vital that she make a good impression. Void had warned her, last night, that the witches wouldn’t be happy with outsiders coming to solve their problems, even though they knew they needed help. He’d even admitted he was surprised Lady Barb had been asked. She had no obvious ties to Laughter. The school had graduated plenty of experienced witches who could have been asked instead. 
And that’s something else you should ask yourself, he’d warned. Why her? Why you?
Emily stopped, putting her thoughts out of her mind. “Lady Damia, I assume?”
“Just Damia, please,” Damia said. Her voice was tart, very much like Lady Barb’s. It was hard not to wonder if they were related, although Lady Barb was an only child. “And you are Emily.”
“Yes.” She bobbed a curtsey. “I’m sorry I’m a little late.”
She studied the older woman with interest, all too aware she was being studied in return. Damia looked to be around twenty or thirty years older than Lady Barb, although it was impossible to be sure. Her face was cold and hard, practically daring someone to start something; her dark hair was tied up so tightly that it made her look years older. Emily couldn’t help thinking of Mistress Irene, but Damia was so pale her skin was almost translucent. The only spots of color were faint traces of dark lipstick on her lips. Her dark eyes bored into Emily, quietly assessing her and probably finding her wanting. Emily had to fight to hold her ground. 
“You are welcome,” Damia said. She nodded towards the castle. “Come. The Old Woman is waiting.”
Emily fell into step beside her, eyes narrowing as she spotted another piece of graffiti on the side of the Outpost. PENDLE WILL RISE SOON. She waved a hand at the graffiti, looking at Damia. The older woman seemed thoroughly displeased.
“I saw that in the town,” she said. The wording was slightly different, but the meaning was identical. “What does it mean?”
Damia’s expression didn’t change. “That, Lady Emily, rather depends on who you ask.”
Emily smiled, although she felt no real humor. “And if I asked you,” she said, “what answer would I get?”
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