She walked onwards, looking down at the moaning bodies. No one had died, as far as she could tell, but a number definitely had broken bones. Their blood looked black in the darkness…she wondered, numbly, if she should try to help them. But they’d intended to rape her, then rip her to shreds. And if they’d managed to catch a defenseless victim, they would have done just that. She told herself, firmly, that she shouldn’t feel sorry for them.
Caleb said nothing as they reached the end of the street and hurried on, leaving the bodies behind. Sorcerers Row came into view a moment later, guarded by strong wards and a team of patrolling magicians…although it didn’t look as though the community was in any danger. Emily wasn’t particularly surprised. If she’d been able to flatten a crowd of rioters with a single spell, more experienced magicians would be able to do a great deal more damage to anyone stupid enough to attack them. Caleb spoke briefly to the sorcerer on duty at the corner, then waved Emily down the street. There were so many wards drifting through the air that Emily suspected some of them were actually weakening the others.
“No one trusts his closest neighbors to ward his house,” Caleb muttered, when she mentioned it. “Too much espionage amongst magic users.”
He tapped on the door, which opened. Karan stood just inside, holding a silver knife in one hand and a spell in the other. Frieda stood behind her, looking bored. She hurried forward as Emily entered and gave her a tight hug, then released her a moment later. Emily undid her cloak, placed it on the hanger and followed Frieda into the living room. Croce sat at the table, writing in a journal. There was no sign of anyone else.
“Marian hasn’t come home,” Karan said to Caleb. “Mum and Dad haven’t returned, either.”
“Dad’s got a new job.” Caleb looked up, sharply. “Where did Marian go?”
“I don’t know,” Karan said. “She said she was going to visit Lepta.”
“She couldn’t stay there after sunset,” Caleb said. He sounded alarmed. “Take care of Emily, please. I’ll go look for her.”
Emily glanced up at him. Her head was still throbbing. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“You need your rest,” Caleb said, shortly. He pulled his cloak over his head. “She’s just down the road. I’ll be quicker on my own.”
“Okay,” Emily said, torn between annoyance and understanding. She knew Caleb meant well, but she didn’t want him to go out alone. Sorcerers Row would be safe enough, she was sure, yet…“I’ll be here.”
“Don’t go up to Starry Light,” Karan said. “Vesperian’s mansion is on fire.”
Emily looked at her. “How do you know?”
“I saw the flames from my window,” Karan said. “The entire building is on fire.”
“Someone probably used a burning spell,” Croce commented. His voice was rough, as if he was as tired as Emily herself. “The flames looked impossible to quench without powerful magic, but they don’t seem to have spread beyond the mansion or its grounds.”
“Be careful, Caleb,” Karan said. “There are riots on the streets.”
“We know,” Caleb said. He snorted, rudely. “I don’t think she’ll have gone outside Sorcerers Row”
He shook his head. “Why did you even let her go?”
“It’s just down the street,” Karan whined. “You know what she’s like when she really wants something.”
“You should have stuck her feet to the floor or sealed the wards,” Caleb said, rubbing his forehead. “This isn’t the time for a temper tantrum.”
“She’s not had a good time of it,” Karan said. “You’ve been away…”
“So have you,” Caleb snapped back.
He caught himself with an effort. “I’ll be back soon, hopefully with her,” he said. “If Mum comes back, let her know where I’ve gone.”
If, Emily thought. The council might have found something else for her to do.
She saw the worry on Caleb’s face and silently forgave him. His family was important to him, even though she knew he sometimes wondered how he and his siblings could come from the same parents. They were different in so many ways. But Caleb would fight for them, if necessary, and they would do the same for him. She couldn’t help feeling a flicker of envy as Caleb turned and hurried to the door. The thought of having siblings who loved her…
Karan passed her a mug of hot chocolate, then left the room. Croce looked at Emily and Frieda for a long moment, before following his sister. Emily’s tired mind wondered if it was appropriate for Croce to share a room with two unmarried girls, even though one of them was courting his older brother. Who knew how his parents would react?
Poorly, she thought, as she sipped the drink. Croce and Frieda are both of marriageable age.
“It’s been a long day,” Frieda said. She sounded tired – and sullen. “What happened to you?”
“You can come help with the accounts if you like,” Emily said, feeling another stab of tired guilt. Frieda had been trapped in the house all day, unless she’d decided to sneak out despite the chaos on the street. She did have homework to do, but that wouldn’t keep her occupied indefinitely. “Right now, my head feels like there’s a troll living in it.”
“Ouch.” Frieda reached out and touched Emily’s hand. “Is it going to be bad?”
“Very bad.” Emily rubbed her eyes. “The streets are on edge…noon tomorrow, when the bills come due, there isn’t going to be any money to pay. And then all hell will break loose.”
Frieda gave her a searching look. “Should we leave?”
Emily frowned, honestly unsure. She’d promised General Pollack she would stay until the mourning period was completed, but she had no idea what had happened to the coffin, let alone the farewell ceremony. Sooner or later, she’d either have to go back to Whitehall or resign herself to repeating Fifth Year. And she didn’t think there was anything she could do to help Beneficence. There were no necromancers to kill, no dark wizards to catch…all she could do was watch helplessly as vast sums of money evaporated.
She rubbed her forehead. She didn’t have the money to buy back the notes at face value. She didn’t know anyone, save for King Randor, who did. And his assistance would come with strings attached. Beneficence might prefer being broke to bending their knee to a king.
Which won’t help anyone who’s starving, she thought, coldly. They’ll be too hungry to care who’s in charge.
Frieda nudged her. “Emily?”