Wolf in the Fold, page 9
Emily said nothing for a long moment. “I’d have to check with Caleb,” she said, although she had to admit that having a third magician with them might come in handy. Frieda had survival skills most of her friends lacked. “You don’t want to enjoy the break after your exams?”
Frieda shook her head. “I got bored after the first few days.”
“You could always read every book in the library,” Emily teased, although she understood the problem. There was a month between the exams and the formal end of term, leaving students with little to do but relax, enjoy themselves, try to find an apprenticeship and sweat over their exam results. She’d never gone through it herself – technically, she’d never taken her final exams – but she could imagine what it was like, if one happened to be as active as Frieda. She was far from stupid, and she’d read plenty of books, yet she was more inclined to action than peaceful contemplation. “Or you could go to the town and hang out.”
“I’d sooner be with you,” Frieda said. “And it would be a chance to show how good an apprentice I can be.”
Emily had to smile. “All the other masters will be so jealous.”
Frieda looked as if she wasn’t sure if she was being teased. Emily wasn’t sure herself. Frieda really was a good student, as well as a very active and innovative magician, and Emily could hardly be blamed for snatching her up ... although the age difference might well cause problems further down the line. No one would believe her capable of disciplining a student only three years younger than she was, certainly not in a manner that would make the lesson stick. She might be a grown adult, but she lacked the age that would give her words weight.
She took a breath. “All right. If Caleb agrees, you can come with us. And if you really want the apprenticeship, you can have it after the honeymoon.”
Frieda smiled, widely. “Really?”
“Yes.” Emily had no intention of letting anything get between her and Caleb on their honeymoon. “It’ll give you a chance to get your results and decide if you want to redo the year or not.”
She took a piece of chat parchment out of her pocket and scribbled a short note to Caleb, then led the way into the school. The wards hummed around her as she stepped into the hall, welcoming her home ... she wondered, suddenly, just how many staff and students would believe she’d been there when Whitehall had been founded, a thousand years or so ago. She hadn’t discussed the whole affair with many people, although there was probably no point in trying to keep it secret. It would hardly be the most absurd story out there.
Her heart twisted as they walked past a set of first years, looking so young Emily couldn’t help wondering if they’d come into their magic. She found it hard to believe they were sixteen and yet ... they had to be. It was hellishly dangerous to bring a mundane, or a person who had yet to develop their magic, into the school and no tutor worthy of the title would take the risk. A handful recognised her, bowing or curtseying as she passed. Emily cringed inwardly. She would never grow used to being shown such respect.
Because it still feels like a joke, she reflected. And not a very funny one.
The number of students fell away as they climbed the stairs to the Grandmaster’s office, a reminder that few students wanted to see the staff now that the exam season was over. A couple of unlucky souls waited outside the Warden’s office, hands on their heads; Emily felt a flicker of sympathy mingled with a grim awareness that whatever had gotten them sent to the office now had to be bad. She gave them what privacy she could by looking away, as she reached the uppermost office. The door had been heavily warded in the months since she’d last visited.
Frieda paused. “Do you want me to come in?”
“Wait outside, I think,” Emily said, more as a test to see if Frieda would follow instructions rather than anything else. “I’ll be back shortly.”
She rapped on the door. It swung open at once, revealing that Professor Lombardi had redecorated the office to suit himself. The bookshelves were gone, replaced by a handful of filing cabinets and a giant portrait of Lord Whitehall. Emily’s lips twitched as she saw the nameplate under the painting. It looked more like Bernard De Born than his father-in-law ... she wondered, suddenly, just what they were doing, even though she knew it was silly. They’d lived and died a long time ago and yet, it had only been three years ago from her point of view. It was hard to believe it had been much – much – longer.
Professor Lombardi stood to greet her. “Lady Emily,” he said. “Welcome back to Whitehall.”
Emily felt herself flush. Professor Lombardi had been her tutor. The idea of him also paying his respects to her felt wrong, almost perverse. She might be his social superior, but ... she shook her head mentally as they exchanged polite nods. Whitehall was supposed to be free of such things. It said something about human nature that such rules were honoured more in the breach than the observance.
“Thank you, sir,” she said. She sank into the proffered chair with a hint of relief. “It’s good to be back.”
“And let me congratulate you on your impending nuptials,” Professor Lombardi added, as he sat himself. “You and Caleb are both to be congratulated, and I hope you will have a long and happy life together.”
Emily was mildly surprised Professor Lombardi paid any attention to the broadsheets. He had heard his fair share of absurd stories, like most teachers, and he knew better than to believe anything he read until it was confirmed. He’d probably heard from a source in Zangaria, she decided, someone roped in to start planning for the celebrations. Getting so many people to the ceremony was going to be a daunting task ...
“Thank you,” she managed. She wondered, suddenly, if he was angling for an invitation. A special invitation. Grandmaster Hasdrubal had known where the bodies were buried and had been left alone to run the school as he pleased, but Grandmaster Gordian had had to play a complex political game to keep his post and Professor Lombardi probably had the same problem. An invite would be expected, of course, but a guest-of-honour invite would confirm he enjoyed her favour. “We’re still working out the details now.”
She felt a flash of irritation. She hated thinking of her wedding as a political spectacle, even though that was exactly what it was. There would be arguments and fights over who got the coveted guest-of-honour invites and probably special-guest-of-honour invites and really-special-guest-of-honour invites ... she shook her head in dismay. It wasn’t something she’d ever anticipated. The girls she’d known at school who’d wanted huge weddings had never known just how much work went into making them happen, or how much they cost. No wonder such weddings often ended in divorce. The cost was so high the happy couple had to go into debt to pay for it.
Professor Lombardi leaned forward. “There’s something else I wished to discuss with you,” he added. “What are you planning to do with yourself afterwards?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Emily said. She didn’t want to discuss Frieda’s apprenticeship until later. Much later. “What do you have in mind?”
“There is a teaching post, if you want it,” Professor Lombardi said. “Who better to teach Defensive Magic? Or Martial Magic?”
“You need someone who looks tougher for Martial Magic,” Emily said. She lacked the combination of muscles and attitude that had marked Sergeant Miles and Sergeant Harkin. Very few students had dared mess with them once and none had dared twice. “I’d have too much trouble with students trying to test me.”
“You beat how many necromancers?” Professor Lombardi looked unimpressed. “I think your qualifications are unmatched.”
Emily shrugged. The people who had never met her expected someone as calm and yet formidable as Wonder Woman. Or Lady Barb, for that matter. A person who spoke so firmly it was impossible to look down on her, or to dismiss her as a mere woman. They were inevitably disappointed when they met the real her. And then they tended to cause problems.
“That’s not why I’m here,” she said. “Did Caleb tell you where we were going?”
“He told me enough,” Professor Lombardi said. “You’re more than welcome to borrow the horses, for as long as you like.”
Emily winced, inwardly. She’d never really liked horses and part of her would almost have preferred to walk. Or take the risk of teleporting. The broomstick in her bag nagged at her mind. It wouldn’t be that hard to fly it ... except Lilith had fallen out of the sky, when she’d pushed the device too far. If it failed again ...
“Thanks,” she said, reluctantly. “The other thing I want to ask is ... can I take Frieda with me?”
“If she wants to go, then yes,” Professor Lombardi said. “You are her guardian.”
“She’s old enough to know what she wants,” Emily said. Frieda was twenty-two. She was more than old enough, by earthly standards, to be treated as a grown adult. Emily wondered, suddenly, if Frieda had thought the apprenticeship through. She wouldn’t be a legal adult until Emily let her go. “And she does want to go.”
Professor Lombardi nodded. “Then take care of her,” he said. He looked contemplative, just for a second. “She’s a little wild at times, to be fair, but she’s a good student.”
“I know,” Emily said. She wondered how many others there were like Frieda, young girls who could be anything they wanted to be ... if their families didn’t hold them down. Frieda had been lucky to escape. Many girls in her village had become grandmothers in their thirties. It was something else she hoped to fix, as change swept across the land. But she knew it wouldn’t come easily. “She’s a very good student indeed.”
Chapter Nine
Emily tried not to feel uneasy as she stepped into the stables and eyed the horses. The beasts eyed her back, their dark eyes unreadable and yet ... she couldn’t help thinking they were biding their time until they tried to bite her. Alassa was horse-mad and had spent hours teaching Emily and Imaiqah to ride – mucking out the stables had been the only cleaning duty she’d done willingly – but the lessons had never quite taken. The relatively small horse in front of her, tied to a post, was still a towering giant, the result of centuries of experiments with selective and magical breeding ... the saddlebags looked almost absurdly small compared to the horse’s bulk.
“You’re coming with us?” Caleb glanced at Frieda, his face unreadable. “As long as you can keep up.”
“I can.” Frieda looked uncertain of herself for the first time. She hadn’t been a fan of Caleb a few years ago, although she seemed to have grown up a little since then. “I do know how to ride a horse.”
“Good.” Emily unslung her rucksack and started to transfer the supplies into the saddlebags. “Get yourself a horse and we’ll go as quickly as possible.”
“Got it.”
Frieda hurried away. Caleb shot Emily a sidelong look but said nothing. Emily couldn’t tell if he was pleased or annoyed at having Frieda along, even though her presence would keep tongues from wagging. Probably. It wasn’t as if magicians, male or female, weren’t allowed to have premarital sex. They had enough magic to ensure no children unless the child was wanted. The thought cost her an odd little pang. She wanted kids and yet ...
“It’s a long ride, even on these beasts,” Caleb said. “Keep your cloak handy.”
Emily had to smile. “Teach your grandmother to suck eggs,” she teased. Caleb had never been into the Blighted Lands, as far as she knew, although he had explored the Desert of Death. It might not be quite as blighted as the Blighted Lands, but it was still a dangerous place contaminated with tainted magic. “Make sure you keep your own at the ready.”
Frieda returned, leading a horse. Emily checked her supplies quickly, taking a moment to ensure Frieda knew what was in the saddlebags, then forced herself to take the horse outside and scramble into the saddle. The horse sniffed loudly, clearly scenting weakness. Magically enhanced horses were supposed to be smarter than regular horses, but they still had the instincts of their unenhanced cousins. They couldn’t be relied upon not to throw their riders if they thought they could get away with it.
“Let’s go,” Caleb said.
Emily took one last look at Whitehall, then let Caleb take the lead as his horse trotted out of the school and down the pass. The rocky walls rose up around them, the mountain peaks hidden in the clouds ... she thought she saw a glimmer of sunlight, just for a second, before it was gone. The Craggy Mountains had been all that stood between the Allied Lands and the necromancers, once upon a time, and even now ... she knew few dared to make the climb to the top. Only a handful of those who’d tried had ever been seen again.
The horse shifted uncomfortably as the pass narrowed, the remnants of old fortresses and traps clearly visible on each side. Emily wasn’t sure when they’d been built and destroyed, although it was easy to see why they’d never been replaced. The fortresses were too far from the nexus point to be protected properly, ensuring they were worse than useless against a full-fledged necromancer. They’d probably have to be replaced in the next few decades, she noted to herself, as the Blighted Lands were cleansed of tainted magic and settled. Whitehall wasn’t designed to inspect travellers from the south, no matter how effective the school was as a barrier.
She glanced back at Frieda as they neared the southern end of the pass. Her friend looked nervous but determined. They’d been through a lot together and yet Emily had never taken her into the Blighted Lands. It had never seemed a good idea ... the wind shifted, blowing the scent of tainted magic into her face. She felt instantly grimy, as if she hadn’t showered for a week, as the stench pervaded the air and soaked into her skin. The hell of it was that it had been a great deal worse the last time she’d made her way into the Blighted Lands.
Frieda muttered a curse behind her. “Shit.”
Emily nodded, her eyes sweeping the landscape. It looked like a nuclear wasteland right out of a post-apocalyptic nightmare, the ground covered with slimy ash that stretched as far as the eye could see. A dense haze hung in the air, blurring her vision every time she tried to see past a mile or two; here and there, she saw the remains of buildings, torn apart by forces beyond her comprehension and left to rot. There were no visible bodies, no signs of life ... just an eerie silence that grated on her mind, making it hard to think. No birds, no insects ... just death. It felt as if something was waiting to happen. And yet ...
She saw something flickering in the distance and shivered. The lightning wasn’t actual lightning, but tainted magic ... lethal or worse to anyone who got caught up in the power surge as it discharged. Emily had heard all kinds of horror stories, from men turned into creatures so horrific they couldn’t survive in the human world to women blasted out of their minds or driven insane by the sudden surge of raw power. She’d seen enough to believe the stories were, if anything, understated. A wave of wild magic would leave nothing but death and chaos in its wake.
“Yeah,” she said. “Are you having second thoughts?”
“No,” Frieda lied. She wasn’t a good liar. “Shall we carry on?”
Emily nodded to Caleb, who checked the compass before pushing his horse into a trot. The other two followed, their hooves sometimes sliding on the ashy ground. Emily shivered helplessly as they kept riding south, her skin prickling as though she was being watched by unseen eyes. It wasn’t impossible. The Blighted Lands weren’t as empty of human life as everyone thought – she’d seen the villages the necromancers considered farms – and there were other things deep in the wilderness, humanoid life forms that had little in common with humanity. She’d seen lizard-men during the final days of the war and there were hundreds of tales of more strange things within the tainted lands. Who knew how many of those stories were true?
Not me, Emily thought.
She gritted her teeth as time went on. There was supposed to be a road leading to Kuching, or the Inverse Shadow, but the road appeared to have been buried under layers of ash. She hoped to hell they were heading in the right direction, as more tainted magic drifted through the air. The compass wasn’t wholly reliable in the Blighted Lands, no matter how many protective charms were layered over it. She’d seen some spinning helplessly, trying to find true north. She glanced back and winced as she realised the Craggy Mountains were gone, lost in the haze. It was too much and yet ...
We really should have teleported, she thought, grimly. And to hell with the risk.
The horse kept moving remorselessly, but there was something to its gait that suggested the Blighted Lands were taking a toll. Emily held the reins tightly, even as her mode shifted constantly, her edge dulled by the steady pressure in the air and the constant flickers at the corner of her eye. The Blighted Lands kept shifting around her, to the point she wondered if they were going in circles. It was hard to be sure they weren’t. She glanced back and saw nothing. They weren’t leaving any footprints in the ashy ground.
Frieda spoke quietly, but the silence was so pervasive Emily thought she was shouting. “How long have we been riding?”
“Hours,” Caleb said. “I think ...”
Emily winced. It was hard to be sure. Time seemed to be speeding up and slowing down around them, her heart convinced they’d been trapped for years even as the rest of her mind knew it had only been a few hours at most. She couldn’t wait to get out of this part of the Blighted Lands, even though there were risks elsewhere ... she shuddered as she saw something moving across the ground, a haze so solid she was sure it was covering something and yet her eyes refused to focus on it. Some creatures within the Blighted Lands were magical, from what she’d been told, either shaped by the Faerie or mutated by exposure to raw and tainted magic. If half the horror stories were true, giant spiders co-existed with bugs that clawed their way into human brains and turned the victim’s body into a puppet. She didn’t want to know if that one was true ...
The hours crawled on. They passed a small town that looked as if it had melted in the sun, the remnants so badly damaged there was little hope of rebuilding even if tainted magic hadn’t pooled in the shacks. She wondered, numbly, just what the town had been called, her head spinning helplessly as she recalled how she’d passed through the region a thousand years ago. It had been forest at the time, not ... a nuclear-like wasteland. The discordance made her head hurt all the more. It was wrong and ...
