The Gordian Knot (Schooled in Magic #13)

But the circle will be powered by the nexus point, she thought. We shouldn’t have any difficulty keeping it safe.

Professor Armstrong raised his voice. “We put the wardstones in place,” he said, his words booming around the field. Nearly every Sixth Year student had arrived, as well as half of the Fifth Years. “I want each of you to check that they’re in the right place.”

Emily sighed, inwardly, as she took her copy of the spell diagram and went to work. Each of the wardstones had to be placed in exactly the right position or the ward network would start to collapse, even with the nexus point providing enough power to overcome any minor flaws in the network. Professor Armstrong wouldn’t let them get away with allowing the nexus point’s raw power to save them from their own mistakes. There weren’t that many nexus points in the Allied Lands. Most sorcerers had to rely on their own power to put their wards in place.

“This one is out of place,” Caleb called. “Can I move it?”

“Check and double-check,” Professor Armstrong ordered. “And then move it.”

Emily felt sweat running down the back of her neck by the time the entire network of wardstones was checked, time and time again. It had been a mistake, she decided, to wear a shirt and trousers rather than a summer dress ... or even charmed robes. Some of the other students had clearly shown more foresight. Melissa was in a long dress, while Jacqui and Cerise both wore short skirts. Emily scowled at them, wondering who they were trying to impress. They looked more like girls from Earth than the Nameless World.

Perhaps they’re just trying to be practical, she thought, as they moved on to checking the embedded spells. The day was growing hotter as the sun beat down. It’s too hot today.

“Very good,” Professor Armstrong said. He was smiling, coldly. Emily hoped—prayed—that they’d caught all the problems. “If you’ll all step back from the wardstones ...?”

Emily stood next to him and watched as he started the first set of incantations. They’d acquired an audience, she noted. Gordian, Master Tor and several other tutors, including a scowling Sergeant Miles. He didn’t look pleased. Emily didn’t blame him. Dueling had about as much in common with sorcerous warfare as a pedal bike had in common with a car. She supposed it would teach reflexes and quick thinking, if nothing else.

I’ll have to talk to him, later, she thought. She wasn’t in Martial Magic any longer. She’d completed both years, well before the usual time. And see what he thinks of this.

“We will now channel power into the wardstones,” Professor Armstrong said, after ordering everyone to step well back from the circle. “If something is wrong, we’ll find out now.”

Emily braced herself, the words of a protective spell on her lips as she felt the magic field suddenly twist. The wardstones came to life, glowing with a brilliant light as the wards took on shape and form. And then one of the wardstones turned a sickly color, a second before it exploded violently. Students scattered or raised shields of their own as pieces of debris flew in all directions. The remainder of the wards crashed out of existence a moment later.

“And that,” Professor Armstrong said into the silence, “is why you check everything repeatedly before you risk activating the wards.”

“You could have gotten someone killed,” Caleb protested. He sounded shocked. “If someone had stood too close ...”

“If someone had tried that in their house, the consequences would have been a great deal worse,” Professor Armstrong said, his voice utterly unrepentant. He picked up a spare wardstone and carried it over to the circle. “I want you all to check the circle, once again.”

Emily sighed and did as she was told. They hadn’t found anything last time, something that worried her more than she cared to admit. Professor Armstrong had over three decades of experience as a wardcrafter. It didn’t surprise her that he could have sneaked a tiny flaw past his class—he hadn’t rebuked them for missing it, which was telling in itself—but it made her wonder what else she might miss, over the years. A tiny little spell, in the right place, could be horrendously destructive.

She stepped back when they finished and looked around. The audience had grown bigger. She saw Frieda standing with a couple of other girls, eyeing the new circle with interest. Frieda looked worn down, somehow. Emily silently promised herself that she’d take Frieda to Dragon’s Den—or somewhere—as quickly as possible. She needed a break too.

And that will be sometime next year, she thought, as Professor Armstrong began charging the wardstones again. At this rate, I’ll be busy for months.

She tensed as the wardstones came to life, expecting a second explosion. Nothing happened, even as the individual wards fell into place. She felt a flicker of admiration for Professor Armstrong’s work. She—and her teammates—had worked hard, but they hadn’t managed to get a ward network to stay up for more than a few minutes. It took more precision than any of them could muster.

“Very good,” Professor Armstrong said. He glanced at Emily. “Is there anything wrong with the wards?”

Emily leaned forward, reaching out with her senses. The ward network seemed stable, just waiting for someone to step into the circle. It wasn’t as strong as the wards she remembered from either of her duels, but that was intentional. There was no way she was denying herself—or the referee—the ability to step into the circle and put a stop to the duel. She wasn’t going to allow the students to fight to the death.

“No,” she said, finally.

She half expected to have a dozen problems pointed out to her, but instead Professor Armstrong merely pointed a finger at the wards.

“You can test them, now,” he said. “Just be careful which spells you use.”

Emily nodded and walked forward. The magic fizzled in front of her—she felt her hair trying to stand on end—as she stepped through the ward. It wasn’t painful, like some of the other wards she’d encountered, but it was impossible to miss. No one could step across the line by accident. The gentle repulsion was enough, by itself, to keep anyone out unless they were very determined.

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