Past Tense (Schooled in Magic Book 10) (11 page)

Bernard looked doubtful as the shadows grew and lengthened. “Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?”

Robin smirked. “I don’t know,” he said. “Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking I’m thinking?”

He reached into his knapsack and produced a small, leather-bound book. Emily recoiled in shock as Robin sat down, unable to hide her reaction to the pervasive aura of
evil
surrounding the book. It rolled off it in waves, a chilling sense that even
touching
it would mean eternal damnation. She’d had bad reactions before, touching books she
knew
to have something to do with the dark arts, but this was terrifying. Merely looking at the tome made her want to wash herself thoroughly.

“Master Whitehall will not approve,” Bernard said, as Robin opened the book. “He ...”

“He isn’t
my
master,” Robin said. He held up the book, showing a blood-red rune dominating the first page. “And
my
master approves of demons.”

“That’s a Book of Pacts,” Emily said.

Robin frowned. “You’ve never seen one before?”

“No,” Emily said. Aurelius had made use of demons—he’d even shown Emily books
about
demons—but if he’d had a Book of Pacts, he’d never shown it to her. “I’ve heard of them, but ...”

“Each page is devoted to a single demon,” Robin said. He opened the book to a second page, revealing a very different rune. No, Emily recalled; they were
sigils,
not runes. “I summoned each of these demons and bound them to my will, allowing me to call on them whenever I need them to work a particularly complex piece of magic.”

“At a price,” Bernard said in edged tones. “What do you pay for these spells?”

“A little blood,” Robin said. “I have plenty.”

Emily blanched. She, of all people, had good reason to know
precisely
what someone could do with a sample of her blood. Whoever had summoned her down to the nexus chamber and thrust her into the nexus point had worked through all of her protections, even though she’d spent the last four years mustering all the defenses she could. Robin was being careless—hideously careless. She opened her mouth to point out just how many horrible things she could do to him with a drop of his blood, but closed it without speaking. If he didn’t know the dangers by now, her words would merely give him ideas.

“And a little of your strength,” Bernard said. “Is it worth it?”

“Yes,” Robin said. “You spent weeks learning to levitate a single stone into the air, didn’t you? I spent an hour learning how to summon a demon and have
it
levitate the stone for me.”

He smiled up at Emily. “Lord Whitehall believes that demons are
dangerous
,” he said, darkly. “But they are so very useful.”

“That’s the trap,” Bernard said, flatly. But he didn’t sound as though he believed his own words. “If the demon is doing everything for you, how will you ever be able to do it for yourself?”

“Demons have shown me how to work spells,” Robin said.

Emily frowned. “What spells?”

“A few,” Robin said, vaguely. He gave her a challenging look. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Bernard snickered. “Smooth ...”

Emily felt her cheeks heat. “It would depend on what spells you have to offer.”

“I have a
lot
to offer,” Robin said, complacently.

He placed the book on the floor, then drew a small knife from his belt and made a cut on his hand, allowing the blood to drip onto the sigil. Emily felt a sudden surge of magic—
tainted
magic—and stepped backwards sharply until she felt her back pressing against the stone wall. Robin tossed her a mischievous look, then began to chant in a language she didn’t recognize. The magic built up rapidly, gathering above the book until it coalesced into a tiny imp. It looked vaguely human—the haze of magic was so strong that it was hard to pick out any details—but the proportions were all wrong. And the sense of
malice
surrounding the creature was terrifyingly strong.

“Well, now,” it said. It looked male, insofar as any gender could be assigned to such an odd apparition, but the voice was distinctly female. “I have not seen you in many days.”

Emily blanched.
Days
? Not weeks or months or years? Robin called upon this creature regularly? Was he out of his mind?

“I bind you by rod and book, by blood and light,” Robin said. Emily looked at him—it was preferable to looking at the demon—and saw a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. He might act as though it was all a game, but he was clearly nowhere near as confident as he pretended. “I bind you ...”

“Come now,” the demon said. Its voice became ingratiating. “There’s no need for such words between old friends.”

“Our way needs to be lit,” Robin said. He hunched forward until he was almost squatting in front of the demon. “I require a spell of light.”

The demon giggled. “But of course, my son,” it said. “And what will you offer in return?”

Robin made another cut on his hand, allowing the blood to rest on his palm. The demon leaned forward and licked the blood. Emily’s gorge rose and she turned, hurrying out of the room and down the corridor as the demon’s hissing laughter echoed in her ears. The sense of its presence only grew stronger, pervading the atmosphere with something unbearably foul, then it was gone, as if someone had simply flicked a switch. Emily stopped and leaned against the wall, breathing hard. Robin and Master Chambers had to be completely out of their minds. Using anything from that creature would be utterly disastrous.

And a demon led them here
, she thought, numbly. She closed her eyes as her body began to shake.
There has to be a nasty sting in the tail somewhere
.

“Emily,” Bernard called. “Are you all right?”

Emily forced herself to stand upright, opening her eyes. Bernard was hurrying down the corridor towards her, Robin following at a more sedate pace. The look on his face reminded her of the drug addicts and drunkards she’d seen on the streets, back on Earth. A light globe, flickering and flaring, hung above his head, pulsing brightly enough to make Emily’s eyes hurt. It reminded her, all too well, of the light globes she’d tried to create after the duel, when she’d pumped too much power into the spell.

“I’ve been better,” she said, looking at Robin. “How ... how can you stand those creatures?”

Robin shrugged. “I was nervous, the first time I summoned a demon,” he said. “But I soon got used to calling on them.”

He elbowed Bernard. “But
his
master won’t let him summon a demon.”

“Shut up,” Bernard said.

“I could show you how,” Robin said. He looked at Emily. “Or you. Do women call on demons?”

“I don’t
need
demons,” Emily said, tartly. She eyed Robin nervously, unable to comprehend how he could summon and use such creatures. And now ... he was acting like someone who’d had far too much to drink. She nodded up at the light globe? “Did it teach you that spell?”

“Yes,” Robin said. “It’s better than the one my master uses.”

Emily eyed the globe doubtfully. It was still brightening and darkening, seemingly at random. She wanted to cast a spell to analyze the spellwork, but she didn’t quite dare, not when it would reveal far too much about her to the boys. Robin gave her a wink, then directed the light globe down the next corridor, the pulsing light driving back the shadows.

“I can teach you the spell,” he called back. “But it
will
cost you.”

Bernard looked sullen as Robin hurried ahead. “It would take me weeks to master such a spell,” he said, sourly. Emily would have been surprised if she hadn’t seen how clumsy many of Lord Whitehall’s spells actually were. “And he gets it in bare
minutes
!”

He strode off down the corridor, leaving Emily staring after him. Bernard wasn’t stupid, she knew; how could he envy Robin? But then, she had a feeling that she understood him all too well. Robin appeared to be moving ahead by leaps and bounds, while Bernard was stuck repeating the same spells over and over again until he understood them perfectly. And
her
presence probably didn’t help much either, she had to admit. She’d not only distracted Bernard’s master from his education, she was both a woman and a superior magician. He would have to be more than human if he didn’t resent it, just a little.

But Whitehall is right
, Emily thought, as she followed him.
That spell might actually be dangerous. And Robin doesn’t even know it!

Robin was showing off, she realized, as she caught up with the two boys. He was creating a whole string of light globes, one after the other, directing them to hover in the corridors or float into unoccupied rooms. Emily had to resist the temptation to cast her own light globes—better than any Robin could have managed—as she walked into one of the rooms, following the light globes. It was a bare room, like every other chamber in the castle; grimly, she took advantage of being alone to examine the light globe.

Sloppy
, she thought, as the spellwork unfolded in front of her. The light globe looked to have been patched together from two different spells, the sort of hodgepodge that would have had Professor Lombardi exploding with rage and demanding expulsions. She doubted that any student at Whitehall would have dared present him with such a poor piece of work.
Sloppy ... and dangerous
.

She scowled as she realized just how dangerous it actually was. The spellwork wasn’t remotely focused; it worked, she noted, but it was so inefficient that raw magic was spilling in all directions instead of being concentrated on the spell. Robin was wasting his strength and he didn’t even
know
it! She dreaded to imagine what it would do to his mind if he kept pumping out so much uncontrolled magic. Void had admitted, to her face, that he’d been ready to kill her if
her
boosted magic had driven her insane. Robin ...

He’ll become unstable
, she thought, angrily. The demon hadn’t been particularly subtle, but it hadn’t
had
to be subtle. Robin would use the spell gleefully and teach it to others, unaware of the damage it would be doing.
And he’ll drive hundreds of others insane
.

“Emily,” Bernard called. He sounded ...
odd
. “Can you come out here?”

Emily tensed, hastily cancelling her analysis spell. Bernard
definitely
sounded odd. Had something gone wrong already? She readied a couple of defensive spells, then strode through the door, leaving the light globe behind. The spellwork was so mangled that it was impossible to say just how long it would last. Bernard stood outside, looking down the corridor. Julianne Whitehall waited for them at the top of the stairs, looking tired and worn. And yet, the long dress she wore made her look attractive. Emily couldn’t help a flicker of envy.

Robin nudged her as Bernard hurried down the corridor. “He needs a chaperone,” he said, mischievously. “He can’t talk to Julianne alone.”

“Oh,” Emily said.

“And now you know why he likes you,” Robin added. His smile grew wider. “You can watch his master’s daughter for him.”

E
MILY FOUND IT HARD TO CONCEAL
her amusement as she and Robin followed Bernard down the corridor. She doubted that Bernard would try to do anything stupid with Julianne—she was the daughter of one of the most powerful magicians in the world—but she knew just how much could happen by accident. Whitehall had been a young man himself, once upon a time; he wouldn’t be too happy at the thought of his apprentice courting his daughter. But what did Julianne herself think about it?

“Julianne,” Bernard said. He suddenly sounded very shy. “You’re looking good.”

Julianne smiled back at him, her eyes flickering from Emily to Robin and back again. Emily knew she wasn’t the most observant of people—she’d been the last person to realize that Jade and Alassa had fallen in love—but she thought that Julianne had feelings for Bernard too. It made her wonder just what Bernard thought of Julianne asking her father—begging her father—to be taught magic. Would he approve, if they became husband and wife, or would he refuse to teach his wife himself? He’d want children, wouldn’t he?

“We’ll just be down the corridor,” Emily said. “You can talk in private.”

Julianne gave her a look. “You can stay, if you like,” she said. “Father ...”

Emily nodded, torn between envy and sympathy. To have a father who cared ... she’d have given a great deal to have a father who actually cared. But there was a fine line between being caring and being overbearing and most fathers on the Nameless World definitely
were
overbearing. King Randor was a better father to Alassa than Emily’s father or stepfather had ever been to her, yet he’d planned to marry his daughter to someone who suited his long-term plans for the kingdom, not someone who suited her.

“Marry me,” Bernard said, suddenly. “Julianne ...”

A dozen emotions flashed across Julianne’s face. Emily found it hard to follow them; Julianne seemed to move from relief to fear, pride to concern. She thought—she still thought—that Julianne had feelings for Bernard, but were they really romantic? Or had she placed him firmly in the friend-zone? She doubted it—friend-zoning wasn’t really a thing on the Nameless World—but she had to admit it was possible. Julianne would have a closer relationship with her father’s apprentice than she would have with almost anyone else in the commune.

And an apprentice is practically part of the family
, Emily thought.
She might not see Bernard in that light at all
.

“I can’t,” Julianne said, finally. “I’ve already told you how I feel. My father is not marrying me off without my consent.”

Emily frowned. Clearly, she was missing something. Had Whitehall attempted to convince Julianne to marry Bernard? Or was she waiting until Bernard gained his mastery? Or was Emily misreading the situation so badly that she was completely wrong? She wasn’t sure how she could ask Julianne, let alone Bernard. Both of them might tell her it was none of her business.