Wedding Hells (Schooled in Magic Book 8) (12 page)

“It was impressive,” General Pollack agreed. His voice was thick, with an accent she couldn’t place. “But so, too, was the death of two necromancers.”

“I was lucky,” Emily said. She’d expected to be questioned about Void and her future plans, not Shadye and Mother Holly. “They made mistakes.”

“Everyone does,” General Pollack said. “Victory in war tends to go to the one who makes the
least
mistakes.”

“Father,” Marian said, as she returned carrying a tray of food. “You don’t have to start one of your war stories again.”

Her father glowered at her, then looked at Emily. “There are at least twenty other necromancers in the Blighted Lands,” he said. “It is believed that at least one or two of them is planning a new invasion of the Allied Lands. What will you do when they come across the borders?”

Emily swallowed. What she’d done to Shadye was impossible to duplicate, at least without a great deal of raw power or a nexus point. Maybe she could lure another necromancer into Whitehall...somehow, she had the feeling the new Grandmaster, whoever he turned out to be, would frown on such a plan. But what she’d done to Mother Holly...the Nuke-Spell would be easy to duplicate, too easy. A single magician with a grudge against Beneficence could wipe out the entire city in a split second.

“I will do whatever seems best at the time,” she hedged. She didn’t even know if the Nuke-Spell could be used near a dozen other magicians without one of them cracking the secret and using it himself. Industrial espionage was rife among magic users. “Until then, I won’t know.”

“You might have to make your mind up very quickly,” General Pollack said. “If you are powerful enough to stand against a necromancer without going mad...”

Lady Barb cleared her throat. “I believe this conversation has taken a detour,” she said. “It is not remotely proper under the circumstances.”

Sienna smiled. “I must agree,” she said. “What are your plans for the future, Lady Emily?”

Caleb’s mother, Emily decided, was definitely
formidable
. She tossed question after question at Emily, some clearly understandable, others confusing. Why would she care what Emily liked to eat in the mornings? Or what spells she used on a regular basis to make her life more comfortable? By the time she died down, a little, Emily was feeling as if she’d been through another set of exams. It was almost a relief when General Pollack leaned forward.

“I was sorry to hear about Harkin’s death,” he said. “We were in the same Regiment at Stronghold, Lady Emily. He would have been proud, I think, to learn he’d turned his own death into a tactical advantage.”

Emily felt a stab of bitter guilt. She’d
liked
Sergeant Harkin, even though he’d been easily the most intimidating person she’d met. And he’d died at her hands...

“Thank you,” she said, softly. “What was he like? I mean, as a child?”

“Tough,” General Pollack said. “Never backed down from a fight. Never had the patience to...ah...speak sweetly to those in power. Always looked after his men, even when some lordly prat like myself wanted to get them killed. Broke my nose once when I argued with him. I wasn’t surprised when he became a sergeant at Whitehall. Someone needs to teach the snotty kids that mundanes can be dangerous too.”

He’s right
, Emily thought.
Someone does have to teach the students that magic doesn’t make them invincible
.

“Father,” Caleb said.

Casper cleared his throat. “You killed Master Grey,” he said. There was something in his voice that worried her. Even if Caleb hadn’t warned her about his elder brother, Emily suspected she would have taken an instant dislike to Casper. “Have you realized that automatically puts you at the top of the dueling league?”

Emily blinked. She hadn’t thought about it. And yet, the first time she’d met Master Grey, she’d seen him duel. Lady Barb had even told her that Master Grey was too stubborn to simply walk away from the field. It would have been easy to take a fall during a non-lethal duel and leave the league.

“I’m not a duelist,” she said, uncomfortably. She didn’t
like
fighting. “And I don’t intend to join the league.”

“You can’t avoid it,” Casper said. “Everyone who wants to be on top will be thinking about challenging you. I would...”

“That will do, young man,” Sienna snapped.

You want it
, Emily realized. She thought, suddenly, about simply offering to
give
it to him. It wasn’t as if she wanted or needed the ranking for herself.
And if it brings you happiness, why not
?

She dismissed the thought a second later. Casper would hold the title only as long as it took someone else to take it from him. He wouldn’t even gain a reputation from holding it unless he actually fought a proper duel with her. No one would be impressed if she simply surrendered it to him; they’d just take it and then try to make use of it for themselves.

“I apologize for my son’s rudeness, Lady Emily,” Sienna said. Her voice was so cold that Emily felt a stab of sympathy for Casper. “I assure you he will be disciplined.”

“We thank you,” Lady Barb said. Her voice was so tightly controlled that Emily had no difficulty in realizing she was trying not to laugh. “And we will happily consider the matter closed.”

Emily met Caleb’s eyes. He seemed torn between amusement and embarrassment. Emily couldn’t help wondering what it would have been like to have a
caring
mother, instead of a neglectful drunk. Would she have been glad of the support from someone who put her first or frequently embarrassed? If Lady Barb had been her real mother...

I would have been a very different person
, she thought.

“We have prepared a room for you both,” Sienna said. “If you will do my family the honor of staying with us for two days, my son will happily show you around the city.”

“The honor is ours,” Lady Barb replied, formally. If things had gone badly, she could have declined and that would be the end of the courtship. “We thank you for your hospitality.”

Sienna clapped her hands together. “Karan, show Lady Emily and Lady Barb to their room,” she ordered. “Marian, Caleb; make yourselves scarce.”

Poor Casper
, Emily thought.

She kept her face expressionless as Karan showed them up the stairs and into a medium-sized bedroom with two small beds. Lady Barb cast a privacy ward at once, then gave Emily a mischievous smile.

“Caleb will not be allowed to be with you without a chaperone, at least inside the house,” Lady Barb said. “But I’ll see to it you get some time alone together tomorrow. Just try not to do anything too demonstrative in public.”

She paused. “Do you like his family?”

“I don’t know,” Emily admitted. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of either of Caleb’s parents, although the girls looked as if they would be worth knowing. “But I do like him.”

“Ah,” Lady Barb said. “But you’re not just marrying
him
, are you?”

“No,” Emily agreed.

She scowled to herself as she started to undress. It was something to think about when she got a chance. But for the moment, all she wanted to do was sleep.

“I
’
M SORRY ABOUT CASPER,” CALEB SAID
, the following morning. “He’s...a little surprised he wasn’t the first one to bring a girl home.”

“I think he wanted the dueling ranking,” Emily said. She pulled her cloak over her robes as they stepped out of the house. “I
could
just give it to him.”

Caleb looked torn. “Someone would kill him for it,” he said, finally. “He can be a prat half the time, but I don’t actually want him dead.”

Emily nodded. Casper had been subdued through the dinner, which had been something of a trial. General Pollack had talked incessantly about the need for unity against the necromancers, while his wife and Lady Barb had chatted about training the next generation of combat sorcerers and Emily had done her best to chat with the younger girls. Karan seemed to admire her, something that probably shouldn’t have surprised Emily, but did, while Marian had found it hard to even meet Emily’s eyes. Caleb had kept his mouth firmly closed. Emily had wished she could do the same.

She followed him down the road, passing a handful of magical shops, and out onto a wider street that reminded Emily of Alexis. It was lined with shops and stalls, the latter hidden under canopies that suggested it was about to start raining at any second. Hundreds of men and women were wandering around, chatting with their friends or haggling with the stallkeepers. Emily was amused to note that at least one of the stalls was surrounded by a number of middle-aged women, holding printed books in their hands and discussing the heroic endowments of the book’s hero.

“Mother caught Karan with one of those books,” Caleb muttered, as they passed. “She was not happy.”

“She’s too young to be reading something like that,” Emily said. She’d glanced at a couple of the books, only to be repelled by a crudity that had put the handful of romance novels she’d read on Earth to shame. “Isn’t she?”

“She’s old enough to marry,” Caleb pointed out. “But I don’t think mother liked the story.”

“I wouldn’t like my daughter reading anything like that either,” Emily said. “They’re not particularly realistic.”

“And thank all the gods,” Caleb said.

Emily nodded and listened as Caleb talked about Beneficence. The city was divided into twenty-one districts, according to him, segregated by wealth and power. It was very familiar, Emily reasoned, although even the richest inhabitant couldn’t buy a mansion in the island city. There just wasn’t the space to go around. Most of the citizens worked, directly or indirectly, for the fishing trade, though the printing press and a number of other innovations had caused a small revolution. Emily wondered, absently, just how the locals would react if they’d known who she was and what she’d done. She’d
designed
their first printing press.

Though they’ve improved on the original design by now
, she reminded herself.
It isn’t mine any longer
.

She pushed the thought aside as they passed a pair of temples, both flanked by giant statues of the gods. A handful of men in red robes stood outside the largest temple, handing out written leaflets and glaring at anyone who refused to take one. Emily took one and parsed it out, slowly; it called for the reader to repent of their previous gods and embrace the concept of justice.

“They’re the Hands of Justice,” Caleb told her. “They claim to speak for their god.”

“So they’re a kind of religious police,” Emily reasoned.

“I think so,” Caleb said. “They’ve been growing in popularity lately, particularly in the Lower Depths. The Hands have actually been patrolling the streets beside the City Guard, just to try to make the area a little bit safer.”

Emily winced as she put the pamphlet in her pocket. She knew, from Earth, the Faustian bargain communities made with the religious policemen. On one hand, the religious police started out by meaning well; on the other, they wouldn’t hesitate to crack down on anyone who dared to be a little bit different. It wouldn’t be long before the Hands of Justice either mellowed out or turned into a nightmare. Privately, she would have bet on the latter. Human nature tended to enjoy pushing the weak and helpless around.

Caleb kept talking as they walked down the street and stopped outside the bank. Markus had to have started with a major investment, Emily noted; the bank was larger than several of the guildhouses or temples she’d seen along the way. A stream of men and women headed in and out, lining up outside a set of cashiers, while a number of armed guards watched them carefully. Again, a number of women seemed to be completely alone.

“There’s no law against freeborn women owning property here,” Caleb said, when she asked him. “And I suppose there isn’t any rule against them putting money in the bank too.”

“And a good thing too,” Emily said. It made a pleasant change; outside magical society, it was rare for women to be anything other than second-class citizens. They might have informal influence, but no legal power. Alassa was going to have to fight to make herself heard and respected once she took her throne. “Shall we go in?”

The interior of the bank - the Bank of Silence, according to a large engraving in the wall - was drenched in privacy wards. Faint blurs surrounded the cashiers, making it impossible for her to hear their words or even read their lips. She glanced around until she saw a guard and strode over to him, standing close enough to allow him to hear her. She’d never seen so many privacy wards in one place before.

“I’m here to see the manager,” she said. “My name is Emily. I believe he’s expecting me.”

“He’ll be down in a moment,” the guard said. “Please stand to one side and wait.”

He must have signaled, somehow, because Markus was down within five minutes, wearing a long grey robe that looked surprisingly respectable. He’d let his hair grow out a little, Emily noted as they shook hands; he smiled, cheerfully, as he welcomed them to the bank and led them through a heavily-warded door. A handful of patrons stared as they left. Clearly, Markus had become both important and famous within a year.

“It’s good to see you again,” he said, once they were in a small room. Melissa sat at the table, reading a healing textbook. “Can I get you anything?”

“Kava would be nice,” Emily said, as she sat down. Melissa looked happy, at least; she’d have spent the night with her husband while Emily had shared a room with Lady Barb. It made Emily wonder what sharing a room with Caleb would be like. “I see you’ve made a splash.”

“Definitely,” Markus said. “You know the definition of a good idea? That everyone thinks it was so obvious that they try to steal it at once? There are four other banks in the city now and two more planned.”

Emily had to smile. “Is there room for all of them?”

“I don’t know,” Markus said. “But we’ve had quite a few depositors coming in from all over the Allied Lands, so...”