Work Experience (Schooled in Magic Book 4) (30 page)

Emily removed her own bag and placed it next to Lady Barb’s. “What is it?”

“They believe that the trees provide some manner of protection,” Lady Barb said. “If they’re cut down, the town itself will die soon afterwards.”

It didn’t seem anything more than a superstition, Emily decided. The forest might make it hard for an invading army to reach the town, but it was far from impossible. A small band of raiders might manage to destroy the town before help could arrive from the castle, if Lord Gorham cared to try to save his people. He would, wouldn’t he? Lord Gorham had seemed more concerned about his people – and his son – after the runes had been removed. But she understood just how strongly people could cling to tradition.

Lady Barb held out a hand. “Pass me your staff,” she ordered. “Now.”

Emily hesitated, then removed the shrunken staff from her sleeve and passed it to Lady Barb, feeling the same odd reluctance to let go of it as always. Lady Barb enlarged it to cast a spell that removed the others embedded within the wood. Emily felt an odd vibration in the local magic field, which faded away rapidly into nothingness.

“You remember the rules, I assume,” Lady Barb said. “Or do I have to repeat them?”

“I remember,” Emily said. Sergeant Miles had gone through the rules every time he’d allowed Emily to use her staff, reminding her that she didn’t dare become dependent on it. She found it humiliating to be warned, time and time again, but she understood the dangers well enough to be careful. Alassa would never have progressed beyond First Year if she hadn’t rid herself of the wand. “I know the dangers.”

Lady Barb returned the staff. Emily took it, feeling an odd mixture of relief and revulsion. It was strange to realize that she was considered too young to use a staff, but there was no choice. Dozens of necromancers wanted her head, with or without it being attached to her body at the time. And then there were her other enemies. Even so...Sergeant Miles had once knocked her out, just to get her to let go of the staff. He’d had no other options.

“You know how to create a fireball,” Lady Barb said. “This time, I want you to create the spell, then embed it within the wood.”

Emily closed her eyes, caressing the staff with her fingers. It was strange, she realized, just how close the embedding process was to the power-sharing ritual. Sergeant Miles had never mentioned the latter, but they were definitely linked. One shared raw power, the other shared the spellwork that directed the power. She shaped the spell in her mind, envisioning it moving into the wood. There was a quiver of magic, then it was done.

“Good enough,” Lady Barb said. “It won’t last, of course.”

“I know,” Emily said. “But it will last long enough.”

She sighed. Even the hardest wood couldn’t hold spellwork indefinitely. Most magicians had to constantly renew the spells they kept in readiness. Alassa’s former cronies had done it for her, back when she’d been dependent on the wand. Some magicians, she’d been told, were never taught how to cast spells without a wand. Somehow, they were kept from realizing that they didn’t need one.

Lady Barb nodded and pointed to a tree. “That will do as a target,” she said. “Blast it.”

Emily held up the staff to channel her magic into the embedded spell. There was a flash of light as the fireball streaked across the clearing and struck the tree, blasting it out of the ground and sending it falling against another tree. Emily stared in astonishment as the tree slowly crashed to the ground, smashing itself into splinters.

It was so much easier to use magic with a staff.

Which is the trap
, she reminded herself.
It’s too easy to forget how to cast spells in your mind
.

The staff seemed to glow with power as Lady Barb directed her to embed another two spells within the wood, then trigger them one after the other. Emily concentrated, feeling her power sucked into the wood as she triggered the spells. Two more trees were destroyed, one turned to ice and shattered, the other yanked out of the soil and dashed to the ground.

It was suddenly very hard to let go of the staff. No matter how she tried to tell her fingers to let go, they refused to move...

She yelped in pain as Lady Barb slapped her rear. Her fingers unclenched, allowing the staff to fall to the ground. Lady Barb picked it up, then shrank it back down to pencil-size and shoved it into her pocket. Emily glowered at her resentfully, rubbing her behind, but she knew better than to object. She’d come too close to dependency.

“No more experiments with the staff for a week,” Lady Barb ordered. There was no give in her voice at all. “And if you touch it, you’ll regret it.”

Emily nodded, shamefaced. There were older boys at Whitehall who’d tried to sneak into the sealed section of the armory and recover their staffs, despite the Sergeant’s strict orders. Holding the staff was addictive; the temptation to use it almost overpowering. Even the threat of dire punishment wasn’t enough to prevent an addict from striving for his fix. One boy had been forbidden to touch his staff ever again.

She blushed, remembering. Aloha had made a crude joke and the rest of the girls had started giggling. And then Emily had taught them the words to
A Wizard’s Staff has a Knob on the End
. The boys hadn’t seen the humor at all.

Lady Barb snorted, rudely. Emily realized she was waiting for an answer.

“I won’t,” she promised. How could she when Lady Barb was keeping it in her pockets? But then, an addict might be stupid enough to try to steal it anyway. “Why does that keep happening?”

“You’re not mature enough to handle it,” Lady Barb said, tartly. “If the Grandmaster hadn’t insisted...”

She shook her head, long strands of blonde hair coming loose and falling down around her skull. “I told him that it wasn’t a good idea. You keep dancing on the edge of addiction.”

Emily blanched. Addicting her to the staff would be the easiest way to render her powerless once the staff was taken away. She trusted the Grandmaster...but what if she was wrong to trust him? Might he be hoping that she would destroy her own ability to cast spells...or would he merely be relieved if that happened? But why would he want to cripple her?

“If that’s true,” she said, wondering how she dared ask, “why does he want me to learn?”

“You have enemies,” Lady Barb said. “The more weapons in your arsenal, the better.”

Emily relaxed. It was nothing more than paranoia, driven by her feelings of loss whenever she let go of the staff. The Grandmaster controlled Whitehall and the nexus under the school. If he’d wanted to kill her, he could have done it at any moment and made it look like an accident. Besides, he wasn’t an evil man. He didn’t have to take her into the school and teach her how to handle her magic.

“Start carving out the runes,” Lady Barb ordered. “You can make another few pocket dimensions.”

Emily nodded and started to work, unable to avoid noticing how the older woman sat down to watch rather than peering over Emily’s shoulder. Normally, she would be grateful to avoid such close supervision, but now it bothered her. Lady Barb seemed to be weaker than normal, far weaker...and there was a necromancer running loose. Emily watched her out of the corner of her eye as she set up the square, then started to craft out the pocket dimension, piece by piece. This time, the magic flowed easier than before.

“Good work,” Lady Barb said. “Now, dismantle it and start a new one.”

Emily glanced at her in concern, then went back to work. Lady Barb said nothing as she completed the next dimension, so she dismantled it and built up a third. This time, she tried adding some modifications to the programming, trying to program it to reopen and collapse at a specific time. The spells didn’t seem to work quite right; it took her a moment to realize that she was actually putting the timing spells in stasis, along with whatever was in the dimension itself. It seemed that wrapping two layers of spells inside the dimension wasn’t possible, at least not for a single magician. Building something the size of Whitehall would be impossible without a dedicated team and a colossal power source.

The dimension collapsed and she swore aloud, then glanced nervously towards Lady Barb. The older woman was looking into the distance, a dreamy expression on her face. Emily blinked at her, then turned and ran to grab the woman’s arm. There was a flash of light and the world spun around her, then seemed to grow much larger. Emily had only a moment to realize that she’d been turned into a mouse – or something smaller – before Lady Barb waved her hand and her body snapped back to normal.

“I’m sorry,” Lady Barb said, softly. She sounded
very
tired and worn. “You surprised me.”

“You should be looking at me,” Emily said, in a sharp tone she would never have dared use on anyone at Whitehall - except in an emergency. “I was building dimensions and...”

Lady Barb had told her never to try experimenting without supervision. But she’d been the one to lose interest in what Emily was doing. Emily stared at her drawn, white face, deeply worried for the woman she had come to think of as a mother – or a big sister. Lady Barb looked too weak to care.

“You’re not well,” she said, quietly. “What happened?”

“None of your business,” Lady Barb said. Her voice was too weak to hold any real sting, despite her irritation. Emily would almost have welcomed a scolding if it meant Lady Barb was feeling better. “And
don’t
try any diagnostic spells.”

She rose to her feet, wiping the sweat from her brow. “Come on,” she said, tiredly. “I want to get further than this before we set up camp for the night.”

Emily hesitated. They weren’t
that
far from the town. She could use a levitation spell and carry Lady Barb back there, where they could find a bed in the inn if not in the guesthouse. And she could brew potions that might help...

Lady Barb strode off without looking back. Emily hastily grabbed up the square and their bags and followed after her, silently wondering what Lady Barb had packed in her bag to make it so heavy. Lady Barb seemed determined to force her way onwards, despite the sweat and tiredness. Emily found herself wondering if she should stun her, before dismissing the thought. Lady Barb would be absolutely furious when she woke up – if she woke up. They’d been warned that elderly or weak humans could be killed by stunning spells. What if she accidentally killed her teacher?

The march rapidly became hellish. Emily struggled under the weight of both bags, only deterred from complaining by the simple fact that Lady Barb was clearly unwell. The older woman stumbled from side to side, as if she were drunk...Emily had to fight down the urge to cast the diagnostic spells anyway, no matter what Lady Barb said. She told herself that it wouldn’t matter what Lady Barb did, as long as she knew what was wrong. But then, Lady Barb clearly knew that
something
was wrong...

They reached another clearing and Lady Barb came to a halt, then half-stumbled, half-collapsed to the ground. Emily tried to catch her, but the weight of the bags made it impossible. She shrugged them off as quickly as possible and peered down at her mentor. Lady Barb was sweating profusely.

“I’m going to cast the spells,” Emily said, finally. “I...”

Lady Barb reached up like lightning and caught her arm. “No,” she hissed. “Put out the blankets, then cast protective wards. This isn’t a good time to use magic on me.”

“Why not?” Emily asked. “What’s
wrong
with you?”

Lady’s Barb’s grip tightened. Emily winced in pain. “Put out the blankets, then cast protective wards,” Lady Barb repeated. “Do
not
try to use magic on me.”

Emily hesitated, then did as she was told. They hadn’t been able to pack a tent, but magic could provide a shelter against the elements...unless it rained so heavily that the clearing turned to mud. As soon as she had one of the blankets in place, she helped Lady Barb to lie down and sat next to her, staring at the older woman. She seemed to be worsening by the second.

“Give me some water,” Lady Barb ordered, between breaths. Emily passed her the bottle of water, wondering just where she would be able to find more. There didn’t look to be a convenient stream anywhere in sight. “Whatever you do, don’t use any magic on me.”

“Understood,” Emily said. She hated the pleading note she heard in her voice. “But what’s wrong?”

“Lord Gorham needed a boost,” Lady Barb admitted. “I pushed him as far as I could, at an immense cost. It’s finally caught up with me.”

Emily stared at her in horror. “Are you going to die?”

“I may wind up wishing I had,” Lady Barb said. She chuckled, harshly. “Let me sleep for a few hours. I should be better soon enough.”

E
MILY HAD CAMPED OUT BEFORE, WITH
the Martial Magic class, but she’d never had to spend time camping on her own. Or effectively on her own, she corrected herself, as she gathered firewood and turned it into a small fire. It took several minutes of careful searching to locate a spring, much to her relief. There were spells to draw water out of the ground, but they could be very tricky and never had worked properly for her. She filled the bottle and put the cauldron over the fire to boil the water. It wouldn’t be safe to drink without boiling it thoroughly.

She glanced down at Lady Barb, worriedly. The older woman looked surprisingly vulnerable asleep, her skin pale and wan. Emily wanted to sit beside her and hold her hand, but there was no time. Instead, she walked back into the forest and set a magical trap. When she checked back, twenty minutes later, she discovered that she’d caught a fat rabbit and a handful of rodent-like creatures. Grimacing in disgust – she’d never liked hunting, even with the Sergeants – she broke the rabbit’s neck, wishing she’d paid closer attention when the sergeants had explained how to make the trap lethal. She knew she needed to kill in order to eat, but she still disliked it.

Carrying the rabbit back to the campsite, she braced herself and started to cut it up, removing the meat and placing it under a preservation spell. The remainder of the rabbit’s body was effectively useless, so she dug a hole at a corner of the clearing and buried the rest of it under the soil. She suspected a fox or something nastier would dig it up, sooner or later, but it couldn’t be helped. Once it was buried, she found the mugs and made herself a cup of Kava. Lady Barb twitched in her sleep, but didn’t awaken. Emily hesitated before starting to cook the rabbit over the fire.