She closed her eyes, reaching out to touch the wards. Gordian had been busy, she noted; he’d drawn on the school’s wards to conceal the entrance to the catacombs, but he’d also added a series of independent wards of his own. Her eyes narrowed as she studied them, wondering just what Gordian had in mind. The wards weren’t anchored to the school, let alone drawing power from the nexus point. Putting them in place must have cost Gordian a considerable investment in time and magic ...
And the only person they could be keyed against is me, Emily thought. She cursed under her breath, wishing—suddenly—that she’d kept a closer eye on the entrance. Anyone else would be deterred by a normal set of wards. Gordian wanted to be very sure he’d know about it if I went into the tunnels.
The wards were impressive, she admitted sourly. She could draw on the school’s wards and break them through brute force, but she was fairly sure that would set off any number of alarms. Gordian would hardly have missed that possibility. Instead, she carefully worked her way into the ward network—drawing a trickle of power from the school—and froze the wards in place. It wasn’t perfect—she was grimly aware that the history monks were planning to visit the catacombs, which meant that Gordian would have to let them in—but it would have to do.
She opened her eyes. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Frieda smiled as they slipped past the frozen wards and down the tunnel. Emily had expected to have to cast light-globes or night-vision spells, but the eerie radiance followed them as they reached the bottom and stepped into the catacombs. Someone had been busy. The dust she recalled from the previous year was gone. She peered up and down the corridor as she sensed trickles of magic plummeting towards the nexus point. It looked as though someone had been exploring.
“Keep very quiet,” she muttered to Frieda. She’d explored some parts of the catacombs, but she’d left other parts strictly alone. “We don’t want anyone to know we’re here.”
She drew on the wards as they made their way down to the hidden library. Someone had definitely been busy. The walls had been swept clean of dust, allowing the runes and diagrams to be copied ... she tensed as she caught sight of a complex runic diagram, positioned neatly above a drawing of a Manavore. She’d drawn up the power-draining runes, back in the past. Someone had copied them down and hidden them as a warning to future generations. And someone else had copied them down.
The thrumming of the nexus point grew louder, throbbing in time with her heartbeat. It wasn’t a physical sound, more like something beating against her magic. It was all she could do to think as the sensation pounded into her thoughts. She tried to use the wards to peer ahead, but it was like trying to look into the sun. There was too much stray magic flowing through the system for her to see through the charms.
Frieda caught her arm. “Look!”
Emily turned. A chamber—a large chamber—had been turned into a sleeping room. A number of blankets lay on the stone floor, while bags and food supplies had been placed against the far wall ... it looked like someone was on a camping trip. She peered inside, trying to determine how many people were living under the school. It was hard to be sure—the chamber appeared deserted—but she would have guessed that at least five men were using the chamber. And there were hundreds of similar chambers under the school. Were they all occupied?
She cursed under her breath. What the hell is going on?
“Watch the door,” she ordered. “And get ready to cast an invisibility spell.”
She slipped into the chamber and looked around. If there were notes lying about ... she saw nothing, save for a handful of blue books and a couple of magical texts. She picked up the nearest blue book, just in case it had been charmed to conceal something more interesting, but a glance at a couple of random pages told her that no one had bothered. A pair of unrealistic sex scenes ... whoever was under the school, she told herself as she replaced the book where she’d found it, had to be very bored.
Sergeant Miles had taught her how to read a campsite, years ago. She looked around, silently noting the absence of bras or other feminine clothing. They were men, probably. The handful of visible clothes certainly backed that up. But then, there could be a female campsite on the other side of the corridor. She took one last look, reluctant to start opening bags unless there was no other choice. A trained magician would have booby-trapped his bag, just to make sure no one stole from him. She’d done it herself while she’d been in the army camp.
Gordian’s been busy, she thought, as she slipped back to the door. No one could have gotten under the school without the Grandmaster’s permission.
Her mind raced. Gordian had told her that he’d sealed the catacombs. He’d lied to her. And that meant ... what? What were these people doing under the school? Checking to make sure there wasn’t a monster buried under Whitehall? Or something more sinister? She forced herself to put the matter aside for later contemplation as she met Frieda’s worried eyes. If they slipped further towards the control center, the odds of being caught would go up sharply.
And Gordian will need to clear these people out before the history monks start exploring, she reminded herself. Unless he plans to pass them off as staff ...
“We need to sneak closer to the control center,” she said, very quietly. “Get ready to turn invisible.”
She listened for a long moment, then inched down the corridor, keeping her senses peeled for magical traps. It wasn’t too likely that anyone would booby-trap the passageway, but it was better to be careful. The constant presence of the nexus point throbbed against her mind, yet she could hear nothing else. She could practically sense the spellware Master Wolfe and Lord Whitehall—and Emily—had devised to control the nexus point ...
Something moved, further down the corridor. Footsteps echoed up, towards them. Emily tensed, then pulled Frieda into an alcove and cast a glamour, drawing on the wards to make it stronger. Anyone who didn’t already know they were there shouldn’t notice them, she told herself firmly. The nexus point would make it harder for anyone to spot them if they were looking with magic.
Harder for us to see them too, Emily thought. We have to be careful.
Two men strode into view. They wore long robes and wardcrafter badges, carrying devices Emily didn’t recognize in their arms. A third man followed, holding a large notebook and a small wooden wand. Emily kept herself as still as possible, knowing that the slightest movement might draw their attention. And yet, she wanted to know what was in that notebook. What were the men doing under the school?