Silence fell, the second the wards snapped closed behind her. No one could shout advice to the duelists, save for someone keyed to the wards. Emily had insisted on that, back when she’d drawn up the list of requirements. The last thing she needed was an argument between two duelists over who would have won, if they hadn’t been distracted. Professor Armstrong could speak to her, but no one else. She’d have to make sure that the other referees were keyed to the wards before the club started.
Lifting a hand, she cast a simple hex. The flicker of green light flashed across the circle and struck the wards, vanishing harmlessly in a brilliant flash. Emily had considered tuning the wards so that spells were reflected, ricocheting in all directions, but she’d dismissed the idea after she’d realized that it would make life too complicated. Better to have the wards absorb the spells than anything else. She concentrated, then cast a stronger spell. The wards glowed brightly as they absorbed it.
Not bad, she thought. And now ...
She took a moment to gather herself, then cast a cutting spell. It was rarely used in duels, if only because it was easy to deflect if the target saw it coming. Besides, if it hit unprotected skin it would be lethal. But now ... she smiled, thinly, as the spell refused to form properly, raw mana flaring around her as the wards broke up the spellware. A gong sounded, a second later. She’d just cast an illegal spell.
“I am very disappointed in you, Emily,” Professor Armstrong said, artfully. He sounded amused. “Tut, tut. What sort of example are you setting for our younger students?”
Emily felt her cheeks heat, even though she knew he wasn’t serious. She’d had to test the wards, after all. She cast two more illegal spells, silently monitoring how the wards reacted to her magic. It might be possible to overpower them, she decided, but it would be tricky to do it without the referees noticing. They’d have a chance to intervene.
“It works,” she said, after one final test. “Thank you.”
She strode forward and pushed through the wards. They resisted for a second—normally, contestants weren’t allowed to leave the circle until the duel was over—and then parted, allowing her to walk through. The sound of students chattering loudly struck her like a physical blow. She shook her head, tiredly, as she walked up to Professor Armstrong. He looked pleased.
“Very good,” he said. “Perhaps the others would like to test it too.”
Gordian walked up to Emily as Cirroc, Jacqui and Cerise made their way into the circle and started throwing spells at each other. “When do you plan to start?”
Emily kept her face impassive as she turned to face him. “I was thinking tomorrow evening,” she said. At least she’d have a chance for some rest. “Everyone gets the same welcoming lecture, then we start teaching spells.”
“Very good,” Gordian said. “And the first round of the contest?”
“Several weeks, at least,” Emily said. She wondered, sourly, just how many miracles Gordian expected from her. “I want everyone to get used to the rules before we start the contest itself.”
“Very good,” Gordian said.
Emily shrugged as the Grandmaster turned and walked away. A Fifth or Sixth Year was going to win, she was sure. It was absurd to expect a firstie to beat a Sixth Year student in a duel. Maybe at Kingmaker, maybe at cards ... but not in dueling. She’d probably have to come up with a prize for each year. Or maybe she’d just leave that for whoever ended up being elected Head Pupil next year.
She leaned back and watched as Cirroc, Jacqui and Cerise danced around the circle, tossing spells around with abandon. At least they seemed to be having fun. Perhaps she could pass some of the job onto them, once the club was underway. She’d have a preliminary meeting with them first. They’d all have to be clear on the rules before the club assembled for the first time.
“You’ll have control of the wards,” Professor Armstrong said. “Just be careful to check them every week.”
“I’ll make sure of it,” Emily said.
She looked at the crowd. Frieda was still there, looking tired. Tiega and Adana stood close to her, looking eager as they chatted to their fellow Second Years. Jasmine stood a little apart, her eyes shadowed. She hadn’t had an easy time of it last year, Emily recalled. Even after she’d faced her punishment for her games, her fellows hadn’t warmed up to her.
We have to lie in the beds we make, Emily thought. It was true everywhere, particularly at Whitehall. And sometimes we can’t recover from our mistakes.
“Be careful,” Professor Armstrong said. “And good luck.”
He walked away. Emily watched him go, noting how many students decided that his departure meant the end of the show and followed him. The coaches to Dragon’s Den would be leaving soon, if they wanted to go down to the town. Emily glanced at her watch, wondering if she had time to go herself. Thankfully, she hadn’t been charged with escorting the younger students. That was a tutor’s job.
Frieda walked up beside her, one hand playing with her bracelet. “What are you doing now?”
Emily felt a stab of bitter guilt. She hadn’t had time for Frieda over the last few days. Frieda was meant to be studying, but Emily had the distant impression that it hadn’t been going well. Fourth Year was always hard, even though most of the students didn’t have a tutor who was literally planning to kill them. Failing their exams could cost them the chance to go on to Fifth Year.
“We can go down to Dragon’s Den, if you want,” Emily said. “Just give me a moment to speak to the others first.”
Frieda’s face lit up, then fell. “The coaches are going now. You don’t have time.”
“I can teleport,” Emily said. Her house was in Dragon’s Den. She’d teleported there several times over the last year. “It won’t be hard to get there at all.”
Chapter Sixteen
“NOTHING EVER CHANGES HERE, DOES IT?”
Emily looked around. Dragon’s Den hadn’t changed that much over the last five years. It was still a midsized cluster of houses and shops, surrounded by a low wall. She could pick out a handful of new shops, including a couple of printers, but otherwise the town hadn’t benefited that much from the New Learning. Anyone unlucky enough to be born in Dragon’s Den would be condemned to follow in their parent’s footsteps unless they developed magic or moved away.
“They’ve cleaned up the streets,” Emily said. “That’s one change, isn’t it?”
She smiled at the memory, even though it wasn’t a pleasant one. Dragon’s Den had smelled foul, the first time she’d visited. The streets had been covered in grime. That was one very definite advantage of the New Learning. Everyone knew about the importance of keeping their streets clean. Horse dung was swept up at once and carted off to be turned into fertilizer, while anyone stupid enough to urinate or defecate in the streets was put in the stocks or brutally beaten by the street patrol. It wasn’t something she liked, but she had to admit it was effective. The mortality rate in Dragon’s Den had gone down sharply.
“I suppose,” Frieda said. “Where do you want to go eat?”