Trial By Fire (Schooled in Magic Book 7) (3 page)

“I think I just want to study,” she said. It was a shame there were no universities in the Nameless World. She could have stepped into one quite happily and never come out. “And go into magical research, perhaps.”

“That would suit you,” the Grandmaster agreed.

He shrugged, then turned back to resume walking. “You need to remember that you’re not just
any
magician,” he added, as he walked. “Too many people are already showing an interest in you, not least our friends to the south.”

The necromancers
, Emily thought.

She’d killed Shadye - and the Allied Lands had declared her the Necromancer’s Bane. The other necromancers seemed to believe she could kill them at will, if only because none of them had tried to claim Shadye’s lands or attack Whitehall. But that wouldn’t last, she was sure. Sooner or later, the necromancers would resume their offensive against the Allied Lands. Their endless need for new victims to sacrifice would ensure it.

And what will happen
, she asked herself,
when they do
?

She kept her thoughts to herself as she followed the Grandmaster, feeling the air grow steadily colder as they made their way to the south. Slowly, the twisted shape of the Dark Fortress - and, beside it, the Inverse Shadow - came into view. They didn’t look anything like the half-remembered shapes in her nightmares, but there hadn’t really been time to take much note of the scenery the last time she’d visited. She’d been half out of her mind with fear when Shadye’s animated skeletons had dragged her into the Inverse Shadow, preparing her for death. If Void hadn’t been there, she would have died that day.

The Grandmaster stopped, sharply. “Listen,” he said. “Can you hear that?”

Emily paused, listening hard. There was a faint sound in the distance, a howling that seemed to come from many throats. It was growing louder, although she didn’t
think
the source of the sound was actually coming
closer
. Whatever it was - and there was something about it that touched a memory - it chilled her to the bone.

“I think we’d better go see what that is,” the Grandmaster said, after a quick glance at his watch. “Follow me.”

T
HE HOWLING GREW LOUDER AS THEY
walked, but it was still a surprise when the haze parted long enough to reveal a colossal pit in the ashy ground. Emily started, then stumbled back as the soil started to give way under her feet, threatening to send her falling down the side and into the pit. She steadied herself, then peered down as she saw figures swarming at the bottom, fighting each other with a savage intensity that shocked her to the bone. It had been nearly three years since she’d last seen an orc, outside lessons, but they were unmistakable, even though the distance made them look tiny.

“A breeding frenzy,” the Grandmaster said, quietly. “That isn’t a good sign.”

Emily stroked Aurelius as she took in the sight. The orcs were huge, each one easily two meters tall; shambling parodies of humanity. They carried swords that were taller than the Grandmaster, lashing out at one another with more determination than skill, their blades cutting into stone-hard skin. She knew from grim experience that they were far stronger than the average human, although they weren’t very bright and could be outrun if someone was prepared to show them their backs and flee. They needed a strong leader to pose anything more than a minor threat to travelers. Shadye had recruited an army through force and led them against Whitehall. She felt the snake’s discontent at the presence of the warped monsters and shuddered, before smiling to herself. The orcs would be equally discomfited to see a Death Viper.

“Only one in ten of them will survive - the strongest or the smartest,” the Grandmaster commented. “They will go back down into the tunnels and impregnate the women, then wait for the next generation to be born. There will be hundreds of thousands of new orcs soon enough, just looking for a leader.”

Emily looked at him. “Why now?”

“Good question,” the Grandmaster said. “Shadye would have pushed them into building a new army, but Shadye is dead.”

“They might have another leader,” Emily said. She looked back at the orcs and grimaced. It wouldn’t be easy to beat one in a fight, without magic. Even the greatest swordsman in the land would have problems. Bows and arrows wouldn’t make much of an impression on their solid hides...but would bullets? “Someone else intent on forming an army.”

“It’s a possibility,” the Grandmaster acknowledged.

He took one last look into the pit, then turned and led her back towards the Dark Fortress. Emily followed, gritting her teeth as the howling grew louder and louder until it echoed within her very bones. The orcs might have seen them and given chase...she found herself glancing backwards as the haze closed in again, making it impossible to see if anything was climbing out of the pit. She shaped spells in her mind - the only way to win was to knock the orc down and out as quickly as possible - and waited. Nothing seemed to be following them.

Aurelius would sense it if someone came after us
, she told herself, firmly. It had been a disappointment to learn that animals couldn’t really talk to their human masters, but she was learning how to interpret the sensations Aurelius pushed towards her.
There’s nothing up here but us chickens
.

She pushed the thought aside as the Inverse Shadow came into view. It was a towering building, but it was impossible to actually get a sense of what it looked like. Her eyes kept slipping over the exterior; one moment, it looked like a towering cathedral, the next it looked like something bent and twisted out of shape. She peered into the open doors, seemingly waiting to see who would walk inside, then shuddered as she sensed the magic - and something else - coiling around the outer walls. If Shadye hadn’t been mad before he’d walked into the Inverse Shadow, long exposure to the twisted building would have driven him mad.

Her throat was suddenly dry, but she forced herself to speak. “What
is
the Inverse Shadow?”

“No one knows,” the Grandmaster said. For once, he looked perturbed. “One school of thought suggests it used to be a nexus point, one that was drained by the necromancers, while others think it’s something far older.”

Emily frowned. “Maybe someone tried to build another school like Whitehall on a nexus point and something went wrong.”

“It’s a possibility,” the Grandmaster agreed. “If there was a nexus point here, it must be dead. Shadye wouldn’t have needed to go to Whitehall if he’d had one right next to his fortress. But there is clearly magic, ancient magic, in this place. Perhaps Shadye was too scared to try to tap it for his own use.”

“Maybe,” Emily said. It didn’t seem likely. Shadye hadn’t shown any fear, as far as she could recall; in truth, he’d never had any
reason
to feel fear. What could harm a necromancer with his power? “Why was so much forgotten?”

“They might not have wanted to remember,” the Grandmaster said. “Aren’t there things in your life you would give a great deal to forget? Or to rewrite?”

Emily nodded, slowly. She’d always had the impression that there was something wrong with the Nameless World’s history, at least the version presented to the students, although she’d never been able to put her finger on it. She knew from Earth that history was often a matter of conjecture, of putting together the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle when several of them were missing and then guessing at the final image. And, on the Nameless World, history could be rewritten to suit the people in power. She had a feeling that King Randor’s ultimate version of the coup in Zangaria would minimize her role while giving most of the credit to Alassa.

“I suppose,” she said, doubtfully. Truth was more important than lies, particularly lies that suited the people in power, but what
was
truth anyway? “I...”

She stopped as she saw a ghostly image in front of her. A young girl - it took her a moment to realize she was looking at her own face, so thin and emaciated it had become - was standing in front of her, staring at her with hopeless eyes. Emily stared back, unable to tear her gaze away, unable even to blink as her doppelganger fell to her knees, bowing her head in fear. Time seemed to slow down...

...And then everything changed. The broken girl vanished, to be replaced by a taller version of Emily, wearing a long dark dress that exposed the tops of her breasts. There was a thin smile on her face Emily didn’t like at all, a smug assertion of superiority over the entire world...and, when her doppelganger looked up, bright red eyes bored deep into Emily’s. A necromancer...

She stumbled backwards in shock. The images vanished.

“Emily,” a voice said, urgently. It took her a moment to realize it was the Grandmaster. “Are you all right?”

Emily hesitated. “Did you see that?”

The Grandmaster caught her arm and swung her around to face him. “See what?”

“I saw...I saw alternate versions of myself,” Emily said. She’d seen something similar in the Dark City, she recalled now. “Didn’t you see anything?”

“Nothing,” the Grandmaster said. He looked uncertain for a long moment, then shrugged thoughtfully. “It could be a sex-specific charm, perhaps, or...or you may simply be more sensitive to certain types of magic than others.”

He cleared his throat as he turned back towards the Dark Fortress. “If nothing else, this is an excellent lesson in the importance of understanding where your talents lie,” he added, absently. “If you don’t have a gift for certain kinds of magic, you’ll never be as good with them as those who do.”

Emily rolled her eyes at his retreating back - she’d heard the same thing over and over again, from just about every tutor at Whitehall - and then followed him, feeling a dull unease in her breast she wasn’t able to suppress. The visions could have been images of her greatest fears, plucked from her mind, but there had been a
reality
about them that chilled her to the bone, as if they
were
real on some level. And yet, she knew they could easily have been enhanced with magic, just to make sure she had the right reaction to them. She pushed the thought aside and clutched the snake tighter, promising herself she wouldn’t be either of the doppelgangers. Aurelius shifted around her neck, then relaxed.

The Dark Fortress loomed up in front of them, a brooding mass that dominated the landscape...and yet seemed petty, somehow, compared to the Inverse Shadow. Emily felt the rune on her chest grow warm, warning of the presence of subtle magic, as they walked closer, studying the exterior of the building for a way in. She couldn’t help comparing it to a palace, rather than a fortress; it didn’t look very secure. Indeed, some of the upper levels were clearly crumbling into ruins. But with a necromancer in residence, very few would dare to enter without permission.

And who in their right mind would want to visit
? she asked herself, as the warmth in her chest grew stronger.
Shadye would use anyone who visited as a source of power
.

“There,” the Grandmaster said, pointing at a blank stone wall. “Can you see the doorway?”

Emily peered at the wall, gritting her teeth as the rune grew warmer. Her chest hurt as she forced her eyes to look
past
the magic, past the aversion wards designed to keep her from seeing something right in front of her, but she kept going. The world seemed to shimmer, then snap back into place, revealing an open door right in front of them. There was a final burst of heat from the rune before it faded so quickly, it almost felt
cold
.

“I can see it,” she said. She rubbed her chest, feeling somewhat frostbitten, then took a step forward. Nothing moved to block her. “Is it safe to enter?”

“Good question,” the Grandmaster said. He drew a wand from his belt, and held it in front of him like a divining rod as he walked through the door. “There are a handful of odd wards here, none of them interlocked. I’m surprised they’ve lasted this long.”

Emily nodded as she followed him through the door and into the darkened chamber beyond. Wards could be lodged within stone, but they rarely lasted more than a year without the sorcerer renewing and replenishing them. Shadye had been powerful, staggeringly so, yet he’d lacked the skill and experience of the Grandmaster or Void. His wards might have been crude, rather than subtle. They might well not have lasted long after his death.

She looked at the Grandmaster’s back as a thought struck her. “Could someone else have put up the wards?”

“It’s possible,” the Grandmaster said. “Void might have returned to the Dark Fortress, after Shadye’s death. Few others would have dared.”

Emily felt a twinge of...
something
. She hadn’t seen Void for over a year; she’d written to him, after the events in Cockatrice, but received no reply. Had he been busy searching Shadye’s fortress now he knew she would be visiting, or had he been preoccupied with something else? Or...had he decided she was no longer worthy of his attention? He might have saved her life, but everyone she’d met had warned her, in no uncertain terms, that he couldn’t really be trusted. It wasn’t something she wanted to consider.

“Cast a light globe,” the Grandmaster ordered. “Let’s see what we find.”

Emily obeyed, casting the spell into the air. The globe took shape and form, casting an eerie light into the chamber, but dimmed rapidly, as if something was draining the magic from the spell. Emily blinked in surprise as the globe started to die, then hastily pushed more magic into her spell. The light brightened, but started to dim again. And then it flickered before it went out completely.

“Unfortunate,” the Grandmaster observed. He dug into his pockets and produced a Hand of Glory, which he lit with a spell. Emily shuddered; the severed human hand had had the fingertips removed and replaced with charmed candles, which glowed with an eerie - but stable - light. “Take this and hold it in front of you.”

The Hand of Glory felt clammy against her bare skin, but whatever had drained the light globe didn’t seem able to drain the Hand of Glory. Emily held it high and looked around, frowning in puzzlement as she had a good look at the chamber. It was bare and barren, as if it had been abandoned long ago; pieces of debris lay where they’d fallen from the roof, while dust lay everywhere. Shadye had never bothered to hire housekeepers, the irreverent part of her mind noted; indeed, he’d clearly not been concerned with his personal comfort. It couldn’t have been a very pleasant place to live.