EMILY SPOTTED A HANDFUL OF UNFAMILIAR faces as she walked into the Sixth Year common room and took a seat on the sofa. Most of the students were known to her—by name, if nothing else—but there were a couple of newcomers who had to repeat their final year at Whitehall before graduating. A couple of others she knew were missing, having failed too many of their exams to be given a chance to retake them. They’d be back in Fifth Year ...
At least they’d know how to mentor students, she thought. And they’d be aware of the pitfalls from last year.
She leaned back and looked around the room. Caleb was standing by the bookshelf, reading a book so intently that she knew he wasn’t taking in a single word. Cirroc stood beside him, his eyes flickering from face to face. He shot Emily a sharp look when their eyes met, as if he blamed Emily for Caleb’s silence. Emily groaned inwardly, then ignored him. There had been too many rumors about her breakup with Caleb for her peace of mind, even if it had been almost a year ago. The whole story had been blurred into rumors about whatever had happened in Beneficence, emerging—as always—as something that bore very little resemblance to the truth. She supposed she should be grateful. Given time, anyone who knew the truth could probably devise a god-spell of their own.
“Emily,” a soft voice said. Emily looked up as the Gorgon sat down next to her, the snakes on her head hissing softly. Cabiria leaned against the armrest, looking as pale as ever. She and the Gorgon had become friends, Emily recalled. They had quite a bit in common. “I hope you had a good holiday.”
“It could have been worse,” Emily said.
It was true, she supposed. Compared to some of her earlier summer holidays, spending weeks revising before retaking her exams was almost restful. And besides, having Lady Barb and Sergeant Miles all to herself had done wonders for her comprehension. “Yours?”
“I was back in the Gorgon Lands,” the Gorgon said. “My parents kept me busy all summer.”
Emily nodded. “You’d be quite close to the Desert of Death,” she recalled. “Did you have any trouble with roving orcs?”
“Not really,” the Gorgon said. “But we did have some trouble with military patrols.”
“They probably thought you were hiding the orcs,” Cabiria said. “Bastards.”
“Yes,” Emily agreed.
She frowned as Melissa entered, followed by Jacqui and Cerise. Melissa’s former cronies glanced around the room, their eyes lingering on Emily for a long moment, then headed straight for the sideboard to pour themselves drinks. Emily wondered, absently, how they’d managed to pass their exams, although she had to admit they were both formidable magicians. They’d kept their distance from Melissa—and Emily—since Melissa had been disowned by her family, seemingly concerned about how their families would react if they continued the friendship. Emily couldn’t help wondering what it meant that they’d accompanied Melissa to the common room.
Perhaps nothing, she thought, ruefully. We were all invited here, weren’t we?
They made a striking couple, she had to admit as she watched them leaning against the wall. Jacqui was black, with dark eyes and white hair; Cerise was blonde, her hair curled into ringlets that fell around her shoulders. They’d both had their black robes tailored to show off their figures, even though it was technically forbidden. Emily couldn’t help wondering if they’d be ordered to change the first day they walked into a classroom. Wearing revealing clothes wasn’t permitted in class. No doubt they’d try to argue that they weren’t actually revealing any bare skin below their necklines.
Melissa took a chair and nodded, politely, to Emily. She’d spent the summer with her husband, Emily recalled. She hoped Markus had had time to spend with his wife. His last set of letters had spoken of chaos in Beneficence, of savings wiped out and riots on the streets despite the best efforts of the bankers and councillors. It might be years, he’d warned, before the city recovered from Vesperian’s Folly and the Fists of Justice. The only upside was that the rules had been updated to ensure no one else could start a Ponzi scheme.
Which probably won’t stop someone smart enough to find the loopholes and ruthless enough to exploit them, Emily thought, crossly. They can’t close everything without making it very hard to establish a business and turn a profit.
She nodded back to Melissa, then resumed her survey of the room. Caleb was still pretending to read, but most of the others were chatting amongst themselves. She felt a twinge of the old regret—she’d never been good at socializing, not in large groups—and pushed it aside, sharply. Being isolated wasn’t that bad, was it? It wasn’t as if she wanted to chat about pointless social pleasantries.
The wards shifted as Gordian strode into the room, followed by Master Tor. Emily sat upright, momentarily confused. Master Tor couldn’t be their Year Head, surely? He’d been their last Year Head. Coming to think of it, he’d been her Year Head back in Second Year too. She’d never really liked him and she was fairly sure the feeling was mutual.
Her lips twitched as the chatter died away. He must be pretty sick of us by now.
“Welcome back to Whitehall,” Gordian said, without preamble. His voice echoed in the quiet room. “You’ll be pleased to know that I won’t keep you long.”
Emily kept her face expressionless with an effort. She’d heard that before—they’d all heard that before—and she’d believe it when she saw it. Gordian might not be as fond of the sound of his own voice as some of the others she’d met, but she was sure he’d taken the opportunity to pontificate as much as possible. If nothing else, he wanted—he needed—to stamp his authority on the school.
“First, the staff met last week to elect a Head Pupil.” Gordian looked directly at Emily. “It was decided that Emily would serve as Head Girl for the year.”
Emily felt herself flush as everyone looked at her. She forced herself to look back at Gordian, even though she wanted to hide. Caleb and Cabiria looked pleased, at least; Jacqui and Cerise didn’t look particularly happy. Melissa and the others didn’t seem to want to reveal their feelings. Emily might not have wanted to be Head Girl, but she was grimly aware that it made her practically unique.
“As such, Emily will also serve as Head of Sixth Year,” Gordian continued. “I trust you will show her the same level of respect you’d show to any of your other Year Heads.”