“The excess magic would be drained into a simple light spell,” Celadon continued. “And the light would alert the caster that they no longer needed to expend magic.”
Emily took the sheet of paper and slowly worked her way through the spell diagram. It was a complex piece of magic, she had to admit. The notation made it clear that Celadon had put it together from scratch, even though some aspects were similar to spells she’d cast in her first two years as a magician. She felt a flicker of respect, even though Celadon was starting to grate on her. Very few magicians would have thought of a flow regulator, let alone a magical valve. They would have considered the whole concept pointless.
Her blood ran cold. A valve ... she’d designed a valve for her batteries. But it wasn’t quite the same. Her valve discharged all the magic in the battery at once. Celadon’s concept was better, if it could be scaled up ... she worked her way through the spell diagram carefully, testing and retesting every segment. It should work, if someone had the power and precision to cast the spell. Doing that would not be easy.
She looked up at him. “Can you cast this spell?”
“I believe so,” Celadon said. “It should be workable.”
“Theoretically,” Emily said.
She sighed, inwardly. She understood now. Celadon had come up with something new—something brilliant—and had run with it, rather than checking with his partner. And Frieda hadn’t been able to follow the spellwork, which had led to her getting angry and then Celadon had gotten angry too ...
Frieda might not be able to cast the spell, Emily thought, numbly. She wasn’t sure she could cast the spell, certainly not on the first try. Can Celadon cast the spell?
She looked down at the paper for a long moment, trying to think. Frieda hated to appear stupid. Emily didn’t blame her for that, not even slightly. But Frieda had also been illiterate only three years ago. It was easy to see why she might be behind her classmates, now the deficiencies in her education had finally started to catch up with her. And instead of understanding the problem and seeking help, Frieda was lashing out ...
And Celadon was probably a bad choice for Frieda’s partner, her thoughts added. He doesn’t have the background to understand her weaknesses, let alone help her to overcome the limitations of her education.
“It isn’t a bad piece of work,” Emily said. She did her best to ignore the betrayed look Frieda shot her. “But you really do have to simplify it.”
“I have simplified it as much as possible,” Celadon said. “The spell cannot work as a collection of smaller charms. It would break up under the first influx of magic. There is no way to break it down further.”
“Which would make actually casting the spell a nightmare,” Emily said.
She rubbed her forehead. The whole situation was a nightmare. Celadon had stumbled across something brilliant, yet—if he couldn’t convince his partner to work with him—the joint project was going to crash and burn. Perhaps she should urge him to stick with the original version, the one Frieda understood ... except there had been too many limitations in the project. Gordian and the senior tutors might class it under the heading of ‘awesome, but impractical.’ Frieda and Celadon might get some marks for it, but ...
“You need to actually cast the spell,” she said, “or you have nothing more than a theory.”
“I was planning to practice next term,” Celadon said. “It only takes one of us to cast it ...”
Emily sighed. Gordian would insist on Frieda being able to cast it too. And he’d be right, damn him. A spell that could only be cast by a handful of magicians was of limited value.
“Go to the spellchamber,” she ordered, firmly. “I want you to practice casting the spell until you succeed. If you can’t cast it by the end of half-term”—she made a show of looking at the calendar—“in two days, you need to rethink your project.”
“Yes, My Lady,” Celadon said. There wasn’t even a trace of sarcasm in his words, but Emily narrowed her eyes anyway. “I’ll report to you as soon as I succeed.”
“Good.” Emily nodded to the door. “Go.”
Celadon rose and bowed, then turned and walked out the door. Emily watched him go, then looked at Frieda. The hatred was clearly visible on her face. She might have listened to Emily—or another older student—but not to someone who was no older than her. Emily could understand why. Celadon was no different, at heart, from the well-bred students who’d tormented Frieda at Mountaintop. Even if he was different, Frieda certainly wouldn’t see him that way.
“Sit down,” Emily said, flatly. “You were very rude to him.”
Frieda shrugged. “He’s been very rude to me,” she said, as she sat. “Can he cast the spell?”
Emily sighed. Frieda wasn’t going to like what Emily had to say.
“If he can, then he’s come up with something that will earn you both high marks,” she said, reluctantly. Celadon’s work would need to be fine-tuned. But she didn’t know if Frieda could do it. “He hasn’t done a bad job ...”
“You agree with him?” Frieda’s face twisted with anger. “After everything, you agree with him?”
“I think his work needs to be tested, but his ideas are sound.” Emily fought to keep her voice level. “If we break it down and examine each piece, section by section ...”
Frieda rose. “He didn’t ask me,” she snapped. Magic flickered around Frieda’s fingertips as her voice rose hysterically. “He went ahead and did it without asking me and I don’t understand and you say he’s right!”
“If he can get the spell to work,” Emily said. It would have been easier to talk to a girl she didn’t know personally. She and Frieda had shared too much for Emily to speak sharply to her younger friend. “If he can, you need to learn it too ...”
Frieda clenched her fists. “Are you saying he’s right?”
“I’m saying you have to find out if he’s right,” Emily said. “I ...”
“You mean he’s right,” Frieda said. The betrayal in her voice was almost a physical blow. “You think he’s right ...”
She turned and stalked towards the door. “Leave me alone,” she snapped. Magic flared through her words, brushing against the wards. “Just ... leave me alone!”
And then she was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Six
EMILY STARED AT THE CLOSED DOOR in shock.
She could have stopped Frieda. Even without the wards, she knew a dozen spells that could have stopped Frieda in her tracks. And yet ... she had been too shocked to muster them. She’d expected argument, she’d expected ... she hadn’t expected Frieda to shout, or to storm out like a teenage girl.
She is a teenage girl, Emily thought. She reached out to touch the wards, then stopped herself. She ...