Jacqui headed off to watch another duel. Emily kept watching the first set of duelists until one of them finally managed to score a lucky hit, turning her opponent into a snail. It was all Emily could do to refrain from pointing out all the mistakes, starting with treating the entire match as a game. But she supposed it did teach them to cast spells in a hurry ...
A thunderclap shook the room. Emily spun around, raising one hand in a casting pose, as she felt the wards scream in alarm. Her ears rang. Tiega stood in the center of a widening circle, Jacqui standing next to her and her opponent lying on the ground ... Emily ran forward, pushing some of the younger students out of the way. Tiega’s opponent looked dazed, but otherwise unhurt. Tiega herself looked torn between relief and fear.
“I slammed a force punch into his shield.” Tiega glanced at Jacqui, then back at Emily. “I didn’t expect that to happen.”
“I advised her to put some more oomph into it,” Jacqui said, quietly. “It helped her to win.”
Emily took a firm grip on her temper. Slamming a force punch into a shield would have been a gamble, even for a far more powerful magician. If the shield hadn’t broken, the blowback would have thrown Tiega right across the hall. But the shield had clearly broken, which had injured her opponent ...
She forced herself to keep her face blank, even though she wanted to glare—and scream—at Jacqui. Her advice hadn’t been bad, for a duel, but it had risked causing serious injury. And that could have been very bad for Tiega. Emily turned and knelt beside the stunned third year, checking for injuries. There were none, as far as she could tell. His shield had clearly absorbed or deflected most of the blast.
He should have angled the shield, just a little, she thought. It would have redirected the force punch rather than trying to block it outright.
She found herself torn. Part of her wanted to tell Tiega off, but she hadn’t caused any serious injury ... and she had won. And part of her wanted to tell Jacqui off instead. Even a relatively harmless spell could cause injury if it was overpowered. She’d faced necromancers who overpowered their spells. She wouldn’t take anything lightly just because it was a simple first-year spell.
“Don’t do that again,” she said, finally. She wondered if she should come up with a list of forbidden spells, then dismissed it as pointless. A rules lawyer would argue that a potentially dangerous spell was legal if it wasn’t on the list. She looked up at Jacqui. “See me afterwards.”
Jacqui gave her a completely sweet, completely fake smile. “Of course, My Lady.”
Emily eyed her for a long moment, then checked her watch. It had been over an hour since she’d thrown open the doors. Most of the younger students looked tired, unsurprisingly. They’d been expending magic at a fearsome rate. Even the older students were starting to look a little worn down. They were more used to placing demands on their magic, but most of them had never fought in a duel. Frieda’s opponent looked utterly drained.
“Stop casting spells now,” Emily said, using magic to boost her voice. The remaining duelists stepped back, watching their opponents nervously. “I hope you all enjoyed yourselves—” there was a brief, if tired cheer “—and you’ll be glad to hear that supper will be served in the dining hall. Go there and eat something before going back to the dorms for a shower and a rest.”
She paused. “The club will meet twice a week from now on,” she added. Gordian had wanted three meetings a week, but she’d turned him down. “If you want to come again, remember the rules; if someone new comes along, they’ll have to be taught the rules ahead of time. And anyone who breaks the rules will not be allowed to return.”
The doors opened. She watched the duelists leave, then turned to Jacqui. “Tell me,” she snapped. “What the hell were you thinking?”
Jacqui looked back at her, evenly. “I told her how to win!”
“At the risk of doing her opponent an injury.” Emily allowed her anger to flow into her voice. “And at the risk of being kicked out.”
Jacqui shrugged. “People are injured all the time.”
Cerise snickered, behind her.
“The wards would have prevented a serious injury, would they not?” Jacqui asked.
Emily felt her blood boil. “And would you be prepared to bet your life on it?”
“I wouldn’t have used a flat-edged shield to defend myself,” Jacqui said, sharply. “My shield would have deflected her spell.”
“She does have a point,” Cirroc said. He sounded oddly irked. “Like it or not, there will always be a chance of someone being hurt.”
“He did recover quickly,” Cerise put in.
“Yes, he did,” Emily conceded. “And next time, we might not be so lucky.”
She met Jacqui’s eyes. “If you want to do something dangerous, you can do it on your own time,” she snapped. “Here, we are trying to minimize the danger.”
“Which will not prepare them for a real duel,” Cirroc objected.
Emily felt a hot flash of anger. She didn’t know Cirroc that well, but he was one of Caleb’s friends. And he did have interests of his own. A watered-down dueling club—and contest—would be less impressive than something that could pass for a real duel.
But she didn’t care. “We are trying to minimize the dangers,” she repeated. “Do I make myself clear?”
“Of course,” Jacqui said. Her voice was very sweet. “I understood you perfectly.”
Chapter Eighteen
EMILY HAD HOPED, AGAINST ALL REASON, that the demands on her time would ease off a little as days turned into weeks. Gordian and the other tutors couldn’t keep discovering new things she had to do, could they? But it seemed that every day brought a new problem needing the Head Girl’s personal attention, from homesick firsties to older students in detention who needed to be supervised. There was barely any time for Emily to relax, let alone go walking with Frieda or talk to her friends through the chat parchments. Her life seemed to have devolved into an endless series of classes, duties and naps ... naps that were often interrupted by the next urgent matter. If Gordian was trying to keep her busy and out of trouble, she reflected, she had to admit he was succeeding. She had hardly any time to herself.
“I wish we’d been able to meet earlier,” she said to Caleb. It was the first time they’d been together for two weeks. They still had a private workroom for their project, but they hadn’t been able to use it. Or at least she hadn’t been able to use it. “I just keep getting overloaded.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Caleb looked rueful. Every time they’d planned a review session, something had come up. “I hear you’re a soft touch, for a Head Girl.”
Emily gave him a sharp look. “Compared to who?”
“Apparently, Aloha was a great deal stricter.” Caleb grinned at her. “And Roberson would send younger students to the Warden if they even looked at him funny. Or thrash them himself, when he was in a foul mood.”
“Bastard,” Emily said. She’d grown used to corporal punishment, but she had no intention of ever administering it herself. “Is being soft a bad thing?”