Wolf in the Fold, page 6
And while Wallace fought for Scotland’s freedom, his supposed son crushed it, Emily reminded herself, as she strode into the shower and closed the door behind her. He might have been one of the better kings in England's history, but still ...
The thought made her smile, tiredly. She’d arrived late by local time and gone straight to his rooms ... their rooms, she supposed. She had never bothered to designate a handful of chambers for herself and it was biting her now, forcing her to decide between ordering a hundred people to change their rooms or taking a lower-status apartment for herself. It didn’t bother her – she didn’t need a fancy apartment, she knew who she was – but it would make her look weak to everyone who didn’t. She ground her teeth with frustration. Nearly eight years in a world that managed to combine magic with medievalism and she still wasn’t used to it. She was lucky her combination of power and connections had given her a freedom others lacked.
She pushed the thought aside and stepped into the shower, allowing the water to run through her hair. It felt like years since she’d washed properly, although she knew it wasn’t true. Her body was still trying to catch up with the time difference, insisting it was late at night even through it was early in the morning. There were no easy ways to counter teleport lag, she reminded herself sourly, beyond forcing herself to stay awake long enough to go to bed at a reasonable hour and hope it reset her body’s clock. She told herself she didn’t have time to stay in Heart’s Eye for long. She’d have to adjust once again when they teleported to Whitehall.
And tell Frieda the news, Emily thought. Her friend had never quite warmed to Caleb, although they’d grown used to one another. I wonder what she’ll make of it.
She stepped out of the shower and muttered a spell to dry herself, feeling an odd little shiver running through her as the magic rippled through her overlong hair. It was a great deal more convenient than a hairdryer, although ... she shook her head mentally, telling herself to stop moaning. She could have cut her hair short if she wished and to hell with the convention that unmarried women should have long hair, but she’d chosen otherwise. Her hair was about the only vanity she had and she didn’t want to give it up. Besides, Caleb liked it.
“You can have the shower,” she said, feeling a twinge of insecurity as she stepped out of the bathroom. She’d never been happy getting naked in front of anyone, no matter how comfortable she was with them. The memories of her stepfather had never faded ... she wondered, sometimes, what would happen if she cut those memories out of her mind. She wasn’t fool enough to try. The results of self-imposed mind manipulation were dangerously unpredictable. “I’ll wait for you.”
Caleb smiled and headed for the door. Emily silently blessed her forethought in sending him a handful of her clothes to keep in his chambers, a fresh dress and underwear and everything else she needed to avoid having to wear the same clothes. The dress wasn’t dirty, but ... she winced as she opened the cupboard and reached for her outfit, all too aware that regular changes of clothes were a luxury few outside the aristocracy could afford. She’d known peasants who had only a handful of clothes, passed down from grandparents to parents to children time and time again. The outfits had been repaired so often it was hard to tell if they were still the same outfits ...
She dressed quickly, then checked the mailbox. Word had already spread, she noted crossly; there were a handful of letters waiting for her, all polite and formal notes of congratulations mingled with carefully not hidden disappointment that she hadn’t taken up the offer to marry the writer or the writer’s son or ... someone, anyone, other than Caleb. She wondered what the rest of her friends would say, when they heard the news. They’d be happy for her, but ... she shook her head as she waited for him. She had no need to marry for wealth or power or connections or anything other than love, and that was all that mattered. The complicated equations most aristocrats used to plan their marriages were worthless to her.
“Better that than the alternative,” she muttered. Void had ignored the requests for her hand in marriage, after making sure it was what she wanted, but a less-understanding father figure might have taken a very different view of things. Not that he’d want to be tied down to a kingdom that thought merely having a relationship with his daughter meant he’d come running when the monarch needed him, in any case. Emily certainly didn’t want it for herself. “This is going to work.”
She smiled as Caleb returned and dressed quickly, then winked at her. “Shall we go down to breakfast?”
“It feels like dinner,” Emily said. She wasn’t so sure she wanted to go. One rule she’d been quick to establish in Heart’s Eye was that everyone ate in the same dining hall, except on very special occasions. Did this count as one? It should, but ... she shook her head. The quickest way to undermine yourself was to act as a hypocrite, enforcing the rules while refusing to be bound by them yourself. Perhaps they could go down to Heart’s Ease and eat there ... no. it would be the same problem. “But yes, we’d better go down.”
Caleb offered her his arm. She took it and let him lead her out the door and down the stairs to the lower levels. The tutor living sections were supposed to be off-limits to students, despite the old tradition of students trying to break into tutor offices and apartments. Mistress Irene had tried to ban such attempts at Heart’s Eye, but Emily doubted she’d been very successful. Too many magical students had studied in places where the tradition was strong, and the risk of getting caught and caned was part of the thrill. She’d never cared much for it herself.
Here goes nothing, she thought, as they walked into the dining room. It was earlier than it felt, at least for her, but there were still a few dozen students holding down the tables. They were spread out a little, somewhat to her relief ... she didn’t see anyone familiar amongst them, although that was meaningless. She knew a handful of students and most of the tutors, but ... they all knew her. She felt weirdly naked. She’d never gotten used to being famous.
The row of pots and cauldrons made her smile, a buffet that reminded her of some of the cheap eateries back home ... places where you could eat all you wished, for a relatively small price. A large sign on the wall behind the tables reminded students to TAKE WHAT YOU LIKE, BUT EAT WHAT YOU TAKE: she suspected, despite herself, that that wasn’t going to be a problem. Not here. Heart’s Eye’s kitchens might be basic by aristocratic standards, true, but they were so far superior to anything a commoner might enjoy that complaints would be few and far between.
And besides, they can go down to Heart’s Ease if they want something a little fancier, she reminded herself, as she filled her plate with bacon, eggs and fresh-made bread. The town has already recovered from the war.
“I hear you are to wed,” a faintly hissing contralto voice said, from behind her. “Are congratulations in order, or commiserations?”
Emily tried not to jump as she turned. The Gorgon stood there, her lips curved in a mischievous smile. “Congratulations, definitely.”
“Hey,” Caleb said, with mock-offense. “Definitely congratulations.”
The Gorgon’s smile grew wider. “It’s never easy to tell, these days.”
Emily nodded and carried her tray over to the high table. She didn’t know much about Gorgon traditions and customs, but one thing she did know was that their society was highly structured and marriages, as well as nearly everything else, were arranged by the parents well before the children grew old enough to actually tie the knot. She didn’t like the thought herself, and she wasn’t sure what the Gorgon thought about it, yet ...she shook her head. The Gorgon was more than strong enough to say no, if she didn’t want to marry her betrothed.
And I will have to chat with Caleb about Alassa’s proposal, Emily mused, even though she knew it might come to nothing. If we do have a child in short order ...
She put the thought out of her head as the Gorgon collected her own tray and joined them. “How are the refugees coping?”
“They’ve only had a few days to get used to being in Heart’s Ease,” the Gorgon said. “We had to put up a lot of tents in a hurry, mainly to avoid problems with the townspeople, but ... most appear to be glad to be out of Celeste. I think most will stay with us, given time ... some have already expressed interest in working in the factories, or helping to develop magitech. The remainder will probably move on sooner rather than later, once they get over the trauma and start thinking about their future.”
“They’ll fit in well,” Caleb agreed. “Given time ...”
“Yeah,” Emily said. “Katharine and Lucy?”
“We have them under foster care, for the moment,” the Gorgon said. “Mistress Irene and Lilith are keeping an eye on them, but ...” Her snake-hair shifted oddly. “I don’t know what’ll happen, as they grow up. They may not be too pleased with you.”
“So I’ve been told,” Emily said. “Did we manage to trace Lucy’s family?”
“No.” The Gorgon leaned forward. “If they were amongst the refugees, they didn’t come forward when called.”
Emily’s heart twisted in sympathy. She had loathed her stepfather and never been fond of her mother, and she had never wanted to go home even when it became theoretically possible, but others had had very different experiences with their families. Lucy hadn’t deserved to be taken from her parents and her parents hadn’t deserved to lose her ... hell, her foster parents hadn’t deserved to be given a child and then have the poor girl taken away again. Emily felt sick thinking about it. The sheer horror of the regime had left scars that would take years to fade. If they ever did.
She leaned forward. “Take care of them, please.”
“We will,” the Gorgon said, “although there have already been some issues. Katharine isn’t very ... fond of mundanes.”
Emily winced, inwardly. Katharine had been raised to consider herself superior, hardly an uncommon failing, and ... there was just enough proof that magicians were superior to keep her from doubting it. Her father had taught her that mundanes were less than children, perhaps less than animals, and they existed solely for the benefit of the magical community ... that she had a perfect right to do whatever she liked to them, that they had no right to complain even if she tore their lives apart on a whim. Or worse. The hell of it was that Katharine had been a surprisingly sweet little girl ... Emily’s stomach heaved in utter disgust. It would have been easier to cope with a spoilt brat. But Katharine had been nice ...
She will be deprogrammed, Emily thought, although she knew how hard it was to shed ideas from childhood, ideas that one had never thought to question until it was too late. We’ll make it happen. Somehow.
“She also wants to see her father,” the Gorgon added. “Is that a possibility?”
Emily shook her head, ignoring the sudden pang shooting through her. Resolute was powerless now, unless he figured out a way to reverse the curse ... which was unlikely, without a very specific set of tools she doubted he had. It had been touch-and-go for her and she’d had help, as well as a great deal of luck. Resolute’s former allies would shun him for losing his magic and his enemies would be lining up around the block to have a go at him, if they ever realised what had happened. Emily hadn’t been very specific, when she’d written her account of the whole affair, and she was fairly sure everyone who didn’t know the truth assumed he was dead. Given what he’d done, few apart from Katharine would shed a tear for him.
“Just keep an eye on her,” Emily said. Perhaps she should arrange for a proper foster family ... she didn’t know anyone who could and would take Katharine. She could hardly do it herself ... Sienna would be a good choice, if she hadn’t been involved in the whole affair already. “And don’t let her get too ...”
The Gorgon snorted. “It’ll take time,” she said, in a tone that suggested it would never happen at all. Her eyes, weirdly snake-like, narrowed. “And she could easily go too far.”
“Her father ruined thousands of lives,” Emily said. She could easily imagine Katharine saying the wrong thing to a mundane and getting slapped, or worse. Or simply breaking the university rules in a manner that would force her to be tossed out, without a penny to her name. It wouldn’t grow any easier when she came into her magic and yet ... Katharine was a victim too. “I don’t want him to ruin one more.”
“We shall see.” The Gorgon seemed unimpressed. Emily didn’t blame her. She’d faced enough discrimination as a younger student, although being Mistress Irene’s apprentice and assistant had won her the respect she deserved. “And I just hope it doesn’t come back to bite us.”
Emily nodded. “Me too,” she said. “Me too.”
Chapter Six
Emily couldn’t help smiling as she stepped into Adam’s laboratory, which appeared to have grown larger in the months since she’d last visited. The walls between the lab and the neighbouring chambers had been taken down, providing plenty of room for tables piled high with captured magitech from Celeste. An ever-growing team of researchers, both magical and mundane, poked and prodded at the magical devices, trying to plot out how mana flowed through them and work out exactly what they’d been designed to do. It wasn’t an easy task, Emily knew all too well. The damaged devices left few clues as to their true nature, while the shattered pieces were beyond repair. Emily suspected the pieces were jumbled together so badly it was impossible to tell where anything went.
Adam waved to her from a desk in a far corner, where he was examining a piece of half-destroyed magitech. Emily walked over to him, wondering where Lilith was. She was supposed to be heading for the lab too, although she might have been distracted by one of many issues that needed addressing. She wasn’t a tutor, but as a senior apprentice she had some authority ... as long as she didn’t step too far over the line. It would be an interesting problem if she did. Emily had no idea how Mistress Irene would handle it, but she doubted it would be pleasant.
“Emily,” Adam said. They’d been through enough together in the last few weeks for him to drop the honorific. “Congratulations on your engagement.”
“Thank you,” Emily said. People had been congratulating her all morning, mostly people she didn’t know. She hadn’t been surprised to discover the mailman had placed more letters in her mailbox. “How much did you learn from their gear?”
“A few things,” Adam said. He indicated the remains of an iron giant, a roughly humanoid metal creature that had been remotely controlled from a safe distance. “We think we can duplicate their control systems, but so far we haven’t been able to crack how they fed power to the spellware that kept the machine operating. The normal power link doesn’t seem to work.”
He grimaced. “How much of this is my fault?”
Emily met his eyes. “You’re not to blame for how people pervert your inventions,” she said, firmly. They’d had the discussion before. It hadn’t been his fault, any more than it had been hers. She’d invented many of the tricks the regime had used too. “And don’t tell yourself otherwise.”
“I spent time with the refugees,” Adam said. “Would they feel the same way?”
“Celeste was going the way it did already,” Emily pointed out. “A problem that started decades ago, well before you and I were born, is hardly your fault. You did nothing wrong.”
She studied the remnants of the device thoughtfully. “Can you disrupt the control link?”
“Not yet, not without destroying the device itself,” Adam said. “I’m not sure how they managed to channel so much power into their devices without destroying them in any case – the power link seems too weak to channel enough power. They may have been using some magic to create wards to contain the rest of the power, but if that is the case it would have been incredibly inefficient. None of my ideas for testing the process seem to work.”
He paused. “I’m not sure how they managed to channel power through the staffs too. It should be impossible. Unless they know something we don’t.”
“Keep poking away at it,” Emily urged. She picked up the notebook and studied the outline. It was clearly incomplete, but she couldn’t figure out how to fill in the blanks. She didn’t have time to sit down and work the problem herself, not when she was heading south in a couple of days. “If you can solve the problem, you can let me know through the chat parchment.”
Adam hesitated. “Do you want us to come with you?”
“No,” Emily said. She hadn’t been convinced of the wisdom of taking Adam to Celeste and that had been within the Allied Lands. The Blighted Lands were even less friendly to travellers and Adam had few, if any, defences. “You and Lilith need to stay here.”
She watched a complicated series of emotions wash across his face. Relief and shame, understanding and incomprehension ... she understood, better than she cared to admit. There was little to be gained by taking Adam, but she knew he wouldn’t be happy at being told to stay in the rear. Lilith would be understanding, at least; others would wonder if he hadn’t been asked to go, or if he’d refused when asked. She snorted in amused dismay. There weren’t many advantages to being a woman on the Nameless World, unless you had magic, but not being called a coward for refusing a challenge was a very definite plus.
“As you wish,” Adam said, finally. “I do have some tricks for you. Including a very special surprise ...”
He turned and led the way through a door, into a smaller workroom. A bench lay in front of them, covered with pieces of metal and wood. Emily’s eyes narrowed as she spotted the metal broomstick, looking more like a phallic parody than an actual device to sweep the floors. There was an orb of metal at one end and a handful of smaller devices at the other, while a saddle rested on the middle as if it were a rocking horse. She couldn’t help thinking it looked more than a little absurd, a framework rather than something practical. But then, the first version of just about everything looked absurd until it was sorted out, the plans finalised, and the final version put into mass production.
