It wasn’t a pleasant thought. Whitehall didn’t have camera-like wards in every room, but it could. And that would drive students away faster than a murderous necromancer with bad intentions. Emily wouldn’t have stayed if it had meant living in a goldfish bowl. She had no doubt that magical students needed to be monitored, but there were limits. It was perversely reassuring that Gordian seemed to be honoring them.
She sat on the carpeted floor and closed her eyes, reaching out with her mind. Frieda’s wards—and her roommates’—were clearly visible to her magic, but there was nothing else apart from a handful of protective charms on the bookshelves. The room was almost completely clean. Emily tested the protective charms anyway, just in case one of the books was spelled to corrupt its reader, but found nothing particularly dangerous. A student who damaged one of the library’s books would be frozen solid until one of the librarians arrived, not turned evil.
“Nothing,” she said, opening her eyes. “Let’s go.”
She checked the wards outside, then led the way into the corridor. There was no sign of anyone, much to her relief, but the sound of younger students playing further into the dorms was growing louder. She wondered, absently, if Frieda was among them. Playing a game—even something as simple as freeze tag—would put her in a better mood.
“We should go to the library,” Caleb said. He gave her a sidelong look. “Or would you prefer to go up the hill?”
Emily was tempted, more tempted than she cared to admit. It wasn’t that late in the day. She could go for a walk, breathe the fresh air, gather her thoughts ...
... And yet, going with Caleb made her feel uneasy. Not because she thought he’d do something stupid, but because she feared she would. Relaxing into his arms would be easy ...
“I think I need to find Sergeant Miles,” she said. One of the sergeants had taken a group of students on a forced march. She couldn’t recall which one. Sergeant Harkin had told his class that it built character, back in first year. “And then ...”
The wards screamed in her ear. She spun around, her body moving instinctively. Something was wrong at the far end of the corridor ... badly wrong. She heard a scream, followed by another ... the wards pressed against her mind, forcing her down the corridor. Her legs wobbled, as if they were no longer under her control. It was all she could do to keep herself from falling over.
She rounded the corner and froze. Frieda was standing there, angry magic crackling around her. She spun around, her plaits flying through the air. Her eyes went wide—with shock, with anger, with something Emily didn’t care to recognize—when she saw Emily and Caleb. The wards were still sounding the alert, a noise thrumming in her ear that was threatening to drive Emily out of her mind. She honestly wasn’t sure if it was in her mind or in her ears. The sound was so loud it was making it hard to focus on anything.
Caleb gasped. “What have you done?”
And then Emily saw Marian. “Frieda,” she said. It was suddenly very hard to speak. “What have you done now?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“I SHUT HER UP,” FRIEDA SAID. There was an odd tone to her voice, a mixture of anger and self-righteousness that made her sound like a different person. “She wouldn’t shut up until I made her ...”
“Be quiet,” Emily snapped.
She forced her shaken legs to carry her forward. Marian was sitting against the far wall, blood trickling from her nose. Her face was marred with twisted flesh—a pair of particularly unpleasant prank hexes, Emily realized—and her arm was warped into a misshapen lump that made Emily want to throw up. Marian was sobbing quietly, as if she was utterly unaware of her surroundings. She’d been hexed so badly, she’d need a healer to recover.
“I’m going to put you in stasis,” Caleb said. He gave his sister a quick hug, then cast the spell. Blue light flared over Marian’s body. The sound of sobbing cut off abruptly. “I ...”
He rose, suddenly. Magic flared over his hands. “What were you thinking?”
Frieda gazed back at him, defiantly. “I taught her not to say stupid things in public,” she snapped. “You should have taught her that ...”
“You ...” Caleb started forward, then stopped himself. “I’ll ...”
Emily cleared her throat, loudly. She wasn’t sure what would happen if Caleb and Frieda started throwing hexes at each other—Caleb had more magical knowledge, but Frieda had the killer instinct he lacked—but there wasn’t time. In stasis or not, Marian needed a healer as soon as possible. Emily wasn’t sure just how many hexes Frieda had used on her, but it was clear that they’d started to bleed together. She doubted she could remove the hexes without risking Marian’s life.
And Frieda will be in real trouble when Gordian finds out, she thought, numbly. The wards had stopped howling, but she had no doubt that Gordian and the other senior tutors had already been alerted. God knew she’d been in enough trouble when she’d almost killed Alassa. She might get expelled.
“Go to my office and wait,” she ordered Frieda. She put as much force into her voice as she could. Perhaps, just perhaps, Gordian would let her deal with it. “I’ll deal with you as soon as possible ...”
Frieda glared at him. “You side with him against me?”
Emily felt her temper snap. “Go to the office or go to hell,” she snapped. She didn’t recognize Frieda any longer. “Wait there for me.”
She watched Frieda turn and stalk off, every inch of her body language conveying the impression that she was being unfairly punished. Emily stared after Frieda, fighting down the mad urge to slap her ... or to hug her and tell her that it was going to be all right. But it wasn’t going to be all right. Frieda had assaulted a student three years younger than she was, a student who’d been recovering from a traumatic experience. Gordian would have all the ground he needed to expel Frieda ...
... And the hell of it was that he would be right.
“I’ll get her up to the infirmary.” Caleb sounded tired, tired and frustrated. “Emily, you need to do something about her.”
“I know.” Emily felt a surge of bitter tiredness, mingled with the grim awareness that she’d failed. “I just don’t know what to do.”
Caleb stood, turning to meet her eyes. “Her behavior has been going downhill since before ... since before Justice. You know it. She’s been obnoxious and rude and thoroughly unpleasant, and sooner or later she’s going to pull that shit on someone who isn’t going to tolerate it.”
He looked down at his sister’s frozen body. “If she hasn’t crossed the line today, Emily, she’ll cross it soon. And you’re pretty much the only person she actually respects. You’re probably the only one who can knock some sense into her head before it’s too late.”
If it isn’t already too late, Emily thought. She was sure Frieda respected Alassa—and Lady Barb—but both of them were hundreds of miles away. And yet ... neither of them would have let Frieda get so far out of hand. Perhaps I could send Frieda to Zangaria, if she gets expelled. Jade and Alassa would look after her ...