“I made this for you.” Frieda held out a small necklace, a white crystal dangling from a silver chain. “There’s a very basic protection spell worked into the crystal.”
Emily took the necklace and examined it, thoughtfully. The chain was perfect, too perfect to have been made by hand. Or maybe she was wrong ... she’d seen some pretty elegant pieces of work produced without magic, back in Zangaria. Magic was woven carefully into the chain, tiny runes channeling background magic into the crystal. The charm pulsed faintly against her bare skin, allowing her to test it. Frieda had done an excellent job. The spell would give her some additional protections against outside threats.
“You shouldn’t have,” Emily said.
“There’s quite a market for those,” Frieda said, ignoring her. “My master was trying to talk me into coming to apprentice with him formally, after Fourth Year. He said I had a talent.”
“You do,” Emily said. She meant it, too. She’d never had any real skill at making pieces of art, but it was obvious Frieda did. “How long did it take you to make it?”
“Hours.” Frieda grinned broadly as she picked up the bedding and started to make her bed. “It took a couple of weeks to master the skills to make the chain, then enchant the crystal itself. I broke three crystals before I managed to insert it properly. My master said he’d done worse when he’d been in training.”
Emily nodded. The protective charm wasn’t that complex, but inserting it into the crystal would have been tricky. She’d had problems mastering it herself, back when she’d been learning how to cast and anchor wards. Frieda had done very well. The charm wasn’t very flexible—and someone could probably break through it, if they had enough power or skill—but it would be useful. She’d have to blend it into her own protections before she could wear it properly.
But I will, she thought. It’s beautiful.
Frieda chatted happily as she made her bed, then started to unpack the trunk. Emily sat on one of the other beds and listened as Frieda recounted stories about spending three months in a magical community. It sounded as though she’d had a whale of a time, Emily decided, feeling an odd flicker of envy. She’d never spent time in a magical community, unless one counted the time she’d spent in Beneficence. And she’d been a guest, not a student on work experience.
“There was a girl who could make the most beautiful toys,” Frieda said, sounding rather impressed. “She hadn’t had any formal training—she’d never been to school—but she was still a skilled enchanter. Her parents have been making toys and tools for years. I was hoping to talk her into making something for me, but she didn’t have time. She really should move to Beneficence, if the city has recovered by now. She’s got a handful of siblings who can take over the family business.”
She smiled. “And then there was a boy who kept talking me into taking long walks ...”
Emily grinned. “A boyfriend?”
“We just fooled around.” Frieda’s fingers touched her cheek, gently. “I ...”
She paused, just for a second. “You’re Head Girl,” she said. An unpleasant smile spread across her face. “You can send Caleb to be caned.”
Emily flushed. “I don’t think that’s allowed ...”
“Of course it is,” Frieda said, briskly. Her face darkened. “He deserves it, doesn’t he?”
“No,” Emily said. She wasn’t sure if she meant it or not. There were times when she wanted to be angry, really angry, at her former boyfriend. “We are talking again, now.”
“Hah,” Frieda said.
Emily opened her mouth to point out that she could send Frieda to be caned too, then stopped herself firmly. She had no intention of abusing her power, unlike Master Tor or Master Gray. And besides, she could handle her problems herself. She and Caleb would just have to work together long enough to pass their exams, then ... if they still had problems, they could part on good terms.
“It sounds like you had a great time,” she said. “But you do realize that Fourth Year is going to be hard.”
“The hardest,” Frieda agreed. “But I’m looking forward to it.”
She produced a pile of books from her trunk and dumped them on the bookshelves. Most of them were freshly-printed magical textbooks, but a couple were blue books. Emily groaned inwardly, knowing Frieda had just placed her in an invidious position. Blue books were banned at Whitehall, no exceptions. If she confiscated them, Frieda would be mad at her; if she ignored them, Gordian would point out she wasn’t doing her job. Either way, she’d lose something ...
“Take those books out of here before term starts,” she said, pointing to the blue books. “Or you’ll get us both in trouble.”
Frieda looked embarrassed. “... Sorry.”
Emily sighed. She’d read a handful of blue books, but none of them had been particularly decent. They’d read more like bad fan fiction, crammed with IKEA erotica, than anything else. There were only so many times one could read them without feeling they’d read the exact same story a dozen times over. She’d known they were poorly written and staggeringly unrealistic even before losing her virginity.
“Just keep them out of sight,” she said. “Take them to the house, if you want.”
“I’ll keep them out of your sight,” Frieda promised.
Emily sighed, again. “I don’t think you’ll have time for reading them,” she added. “You’ll have to do a joint project ...”
She saw a flash of hot anger cross Frieda’s face. “Celadon is useless. I should never have paired up with him!”
Emily blinked, alarmed. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Oh, we had a plan to go on work experience to get the training we needed to complete the project,” Frieda said. “And then he started coming up with new ideas of his own.”
“That’s not a bad thing,” Emily pointed out. “You don’t want to do all the work ...”
“He wants to change everything, even after we spent the summer working on our skills,” Frieda snapped. “And he didn’t listen to a single word from me!”
Emily looked up. “Frieda, what’s wrong?”
“He won’t listen to me,” Frieda said. Her face darkened. “He just won’t listen!”
Emily sucked in a breath. “What are you actually trying to do?”
Frieda hesitated. “Are we allowed to tell you?”
“I think so,” Emily said. She hadn’t talked about her joint project, but it had wider implications than anyone apart from her and Caleb had realized. “I’m just not allowed to actually help you.”
“We were working on using rare materials to design a whole new generation of alchemical tools,” Frieda said. “It was something that grew out of the New Learning, a concept that might ...” she trailed off and knelt down beside the trunk, then started to dig through it. “I’ll see if I can find you the papers.”
“Leave that for the moment,” Emily said. “What does he want to change?”
“We had a plan for crafting the tools,” Frieda said. “And now he wants to change it!”