Schooled in Magic (60 page)

Emily shook her head, then she felt a dull rumble running through the school. Shadye now clashed directly against the Grandmaster, pressing his will–backed by awesome power–against the Grandmaster’s natural supply of
mana
. Emily sought the Grandmaster via the crystal ball and found him stumbling down a corridor, fighting desperately to keep Shadye from turning the school against him.

She knew that the portals leading out of Whitehall had been closed. The remainder of the students and tutors were trapped, unless they managed to flee through the enemy army and escape into the mountains. But one glance at the forces surrounding the school suggested that would be a very difficult task.

How had Shadye managed to slip so many monsters close to the school without being detected? Had he carved hundreds of tunnels into the mountains and hidden his monsters there for months?

Shadye looked up. For a moment, she had the sense that his red eyes were looking right at her, through the crystal ball. She saw him wave his hand in a complicated gesture. Magic burned through the air.

Emily threw herself away from the crystal ball a moment before it exploded, throwing shards of glass everywhere. It was sheer luck that none of them struck her...

... And then she realized the significance of what had happened. Shadye had sensed her spying on him and now he knew where she was. If he still thought she was important ...

The situation had definitely become desperate.

She pulled herself to her feet and ran to the door. Outside, she heard the sounds of fighting in the distance and felt the magic field tingling as Shadye and the Grandmaster warred for control of the school. Glancing over at one of the suits of armor, she removed its sword and hefted it, wincing at the weight. It was too heavy for her to carry easily, but there was no other choice. Looking up into the masked helm, she had the unmistakable feeling that
something
inhuman was looking back at her. She had the feeling of being measured, then she was finally allowed to take the sword and go. Unable to avoid the sense that she had barely escaped with her life, she walked down the corridor, carrying the sword as carefully as she could. The temptation to shoulder it had been almost overpowering.

A roar made her jump as she turned the corner. A trio of Orcs advanced on her–and, behind them, she saw an elderly man carrying a staff. It was Malefic, the Dark Wizard who had kidnapped her as an elaborate cover for stealing a sample of her blood. And, perhaps, the one who had treated it to make it impossible to completely separate it from her body.

She lifted her sword threateningly and readied
Berserker
in her mind. If she was going to die, she would not go down without a fight.

Malefic stopped the Orcs and stepped past them, raising his staff. Emily got her defensive charm up barely in time as a fireball appeared out of nowhere and slammed right into her ward. Flames shimmered in front of her, licking away at her defenses. She realized, almost too late, that the flames were consuming her power. She jumped backwards and cast a spell on the sword, throwing it at Malefic. The Dark Wizard stepped aside and the sword impaled two of the Orcs, carrying them with it as it flashed down the corridor and crashed into a distant wall. She hadn’t told the spell when to stop. Before Malefic could react, she pushed the ward outwards and slammed it into the third Orc. The creature’s loincloth caught fire and it turned, running for its life. Emily laughed out loud as it slammed into a wall and collapsed next to its friends.

There was a shimmer of magic. Malefic threw a spell at her she didn’t recognize; she quickly jumped aside, cursing her mistake. She should never have taken her eyes off him!

She tossed a fireball back at him, only to see him snap it out of the air with his hand and crush it, as if it were no more threatening than the Mimic she’d conjured up to scare the Orcs. Emily didn’t wait for him to throw another spell; she generated a ball of light, a very simple spell, making it as bright as she could. She squeezed her eyes shut as she threw it at Malefic.

The Dark Wizard screamed. He stumbled backwards as the light vanished, grasping at his eyes.

Emily cast a stunning spell and threw it at him, watching as he tumbled to the floor. It looked as if blood was leaking from his eyeballs.

Dear God, how badly had she hurt him?

And yet it was hard for her to care. Malefic had hurt her, and Alassa, and the school. Didn’t he deserve a little of his own back?

She froze as she heard the sound of someone clapping, very slowly and deliberately, from behind her. Bracing herself, Emily turned ... because she already knew who was there. Who
must
be there.

Shadye.

E
MILY TURNED SLOWLY, RAISING HER WARDS
even though she knew they wouldn’t stand up to Shadye. All he had to do to overpower her was throw enough magic at her wards to knock them down through simple brute force. He stood several meters in front of her, his face hidden under a dark hood that seemed to swallow all light. He no longer looked human; looking at his robe, Emily had the sense that his body was slowly mutating into something else. A vague feeling pervaded her mind that if she looked too closely she wouldn’t be able to look away.

“You have grown, since we last met,” Shadye said. His voice sounded inhuman too, a dull rasp that seemed to come out of nowhere. “I expected no less from a Child of Destiny.”

Raw power crackled in the air around Shadye, the necromancer who had stamped his will on Whitehall and on the surrounding environment. He seemed to be almost
composed
of magic now, completely dependent on sacrifices to stay alive. Some of the books she’d read had speculated that a necromancer would eventually manage to store enough power to stay alive permanently without requiring additional sacrifices.

Emily found herself silently praying that they were wrong, even as she stood there, trying to fight down the panic that threatened to overwhelm her.

Distract him
, part of her mind yammered.
Keep him busy while you think
!

She cleared her throat. “How did you manage to control me?”

“Our first meeting in three months and
that’s
your question?” Shadye asked. He sounded inordinately amused, as if she’d said something funny. “I have a sample of your blood, remember?”

“But we cut the ties between it and me,” she protested. Or the healers had
tried
, at least. “How did you use it to manipulate me?”

Shadye snorted. “You’re not from this world. There is no one else like you anywhere in this universe. Your blood is unique. Diffusing the link between you and your blood won’t break the connection permanently.”

Emily cursed under her breath. It should have occurred to her
before
it was too late, even if it wouldn’t have occurred to Kyla or anyone else who didn’t know where she’d come from. Shadye was right. She
was
unique. There would be no relatives to make it difficult, if not impossible, to target the spell precisely. Shadye had thought of something completely out of left field, but she should have thought of it, too. All the ideas she’d brought into this world ... but she hadn’t come up with the one that would have saved Whitehall from destruction.

Shadye stepped forward.

Emily stumbled backwards, unwilling to be too close to him.

The necromancer stopped in front of Malefic and looked down at the stunned Dark Wizard, his expression hidden by the cowl. He reached down after a moment and cast a spell Emily didn’t recognize. Malefic jerked once, then returned to his enforced slumber.

“He failed me,” Shadye said. “I do not tolerate failure.”

“Of course you don’t,” Emily said, still backing away. “How did you tolerate yourself when I escaped your clutches?”

Shadye laughed unpleasantly. “Do you really believe that you managed to escape without my permission?”

He continued before Emily could say a word. “I
permitted
you to leave, knowing that you would upset the balance of power in the Allied Lands. And you have played your role magnificently. Political chaos in one of the most important Kingdoms in the world will weaken them to the point where my puppets can take power and shatter the Allied Lands.”

His voice darkened. “And I knew that I could use you to bring down the wards protecting Whitehall. You have been my puppet all along.”

Emily stared at him, her thoughts churning madly. He was lying. He
had
to be lying. How could he have predicted everything from Void’s rescue to her rivalry - then friendship - with Alassa? Or, for that matter, how did he know that she would go into partnership with one of the other girls from the school? Or that she would actually know something of use to this world? Emily had been far from an ignorant girl, like the cheerleaders she’d known from back home, but she’d still found herself having to reinvent the wheel–or the printing press–with only the vaguest knowledge of their principles.

If Shadye had wanted to influence the world, he might have done better if he’d kidnapped a professor of medieval history and the early industrial age, or someone with a background in engineering and chemistry. Emily could have easily failed to introduce anything.

“A Child of Destiny as a puppet,” Shadye gloated. “How could I fail to win?”

Cold logic told her that Shadye was lying. She clung to the thought as the necromancer stepped over Malefic’s body and strode towards her. There was no way he could have predicted everything, or he wouldn’t have needed her to introduce new factors into an already unstable situation. And besides, it was impossible to look into the future and glean anything but the vaguest hints of what might come.

Both science and magic agreed on that point.

But when she looked up at Shadye, she realized that it didn’t matter. The necromancer believed every word he said.

She shivered as she backed away, creeping down the corridor.

Shadye had a strong personality; he
had
to have a strong personality, or necromancy would have killed him long ago. But he couldn’t allow himself to doubt, or question, for fear of losing himself. And that meant that every reversal he suffered had to be explained, at least to himself, as just another part of his plan. He had to
believe
that he wanted his enemies to score a local victory–and that this victory would lead to their defeat.

Offhand, she couldn’t recall if such a scheme had ever worked outside comic books.

But I’m not a Child of Destiny
, her mind insisted. She could tell Shadye that, but he would ignore her. He took her successes in upsetting the world as proof that she
was
a Child of Destiny.

Besides, what would he do if he ever found out the truth? Would he consider that to be part of his grand plan too?

“Right,” she said after a long pause. “And I assume that you’re about to sacrifice me to the powers of darkness?”

Shadye chuckled, humorlessly. “I have far more ... interesting uses for a Child of Destiny than just another sacrifice,” he said sardonically. “Instead, you will become a necromancer and join me as we crush the Allied Lands.”

Emily stared at him in horror. If he truly believed that, maybe he
had
intended to lure Void into rescuing her, knowing she would be his Trojan Horse. But if that was the case, why would he need Malefic to secure some of Emily’s blood? He could have taken it from her before she woke up in his prison cell.

No
, she told herself firmly; he
had
to have improvised a new plan once she’d been plucked out of his grasp. Even Batman couldn’t come up with such a plan right from the start and expect it to work.

But Shadye was insane. And therefore unpredictable.

“You want to change things,” Shadye whispered. “You are a Child of Destiny, born to change the world. With necromancy, you will be able to change the world in ways beyond your imagination.”

And go insane doing it
, Emily thought.

The awful temptation gnawed at her soul. There was no way she could win a straight duel with Shadye, not one that matched their respective powers directly against each other; he was
vastly
more powerful than any other magician she’d met. If she fought, Shadye would win–and then finish the task of destroying Whitehall. And once she was drained, she would be completely helpless. No doubt Shadye would have some special way to re-educate her if she refused to do as he wanted.

But if she tapped into necromancy herself, she would be as powerful as he–and she already knew she had tricks that no one from this world had ever seriously considered. Using light as a weapon? She could make a laser beam if she tried, one that would go through most wards because they weren’t configured to block the light. Or she could transfigure the air around her target into poison gas, or produce hydrogen from water ... she’d even had a half-formed idea for producing
gold
from seawater. She could beat him...