“It tried to grab onto me,” Emily said. “I saw it as ... as a monster.”
“Your perceptions were turned against you,” Samra said. “It is vitally important to remember that you are fighting a battle of metaphor, rather than brute force. You could easily end up hurting yourself if you visualize the curse as a fly sitting on your nose, then punch yourself in the face in an attempt to get rid of it. Curses like that are practically designed to take advantage of your weaknesses.”
Emily swallowed. “And once it grabbed on to me ...?”
“Melissa would have a chance to practice removing curses too,” Samra said. “You would not, I suspect, have been able to remove it yourself.”
She paced the room for a long moment. “I’ll keep an eye on Melissa, just to be sure,” she added. “But I don’t think there’s any real danger.”
Emily nodded, relieved. “No more. I mean ...”
Samra turned. “No more?”
“No more reading her mind,” Emily said. “No more poking myself into her thoughts. No more ...”
“Do you want to learn or don’t you?” Samra leaned forward. “This is not a skill you can learn from books, Emily. The only way to learn soul magic is by doing. You are extremely fortunate that you’ve been allowed to take lessons without committing yourself to the healing circle. Melissa has volunteered to allow you to practice on her ...”
“I’ll hurt her,” Emily said. She remembered the images she’d seen of Melissa’s childhood, back when she’d been under Fulvia’s thumb. “Sooner or later, I’ll do something wrong and ...”
“She knows the risks,” Samra said. “Melissa is a very brave girl.”
She smiled. “And would you open your mind to her?”
Not willingly, Emily thought. The whole idea was horrific. But if there was no choice...
“I didn’t volunteer to have my mind read,” she said. She knew Melissa couldn’t share anything she learned, not without permission. The thought was still unpleasant. “And I don’t want to risk her any longer.”
She looked down at the floor. “Why her?”
“She volunteered,” Samra said, flatly. “And she has a marriage bond, which gives her some additional stability. Her classmates are rather less lucky.”
Emily nodded, remembering the oaths in Melissa’s mind. And her own, waiting.
“I was wondering if an oath could be removed,” she said. “Is that possible?”
Samra made an odd sound. “There are people who would demand your immediate execution for daring to ask,” she said. It took Emily a moment to realize she was trying not to laugh. “I don’t think a sworn oath, one made of your own free will, could be removed. Even trying could be lethal. But an oath someone was forced to swear ... maybe. It isn’t something I would care to try.”
She nodded to the door. “You’ll be back, of course. Next time, perhaps I’ll find you a more challenging opponent.”
Emily swallowed, but said nothing.
Chapter Thirty-One
“IT’S A BRIGHT, SUNNY DAY,” CIRROC said, as they walked out onto the grounds. “Just right for a dueling contest, don’t you think?”
Emily bit down a whole series of nasty answers. The weather was perfect, absolutely perfect, for a long walk in the mountains. She could have gone, perhaps with Frieda, if she hadn’t been expected to supervise the dueling contest. But instead ... she groaned as she saw the vast number of people taking their seats in the arena. Gordian had insisted on holding the second round in the arena, where there were seats for the entire school to watch. And it looked like the entire school had turned out to watch.
And place bets, she thought sourly. And try to use the contest as an excuse not to turn in their work on time.
She sighed as she walked through the doors and into the waiting room. She’d only been there once before, when Alassa had tried to convince her to play Ken. Now, all thirty remaining duelists were sitting on benches or trying out moves until it was their turn to step onto the field. Even with four duels taking place at once, Emily thought, it was going to take some time before the first set of engagements were completed. Perhaps some of the audience would lose interest and wander off.
Frieda sat on a bench, seemingly alone. Emily gave her a sharp look, wondering what the younger girl was thinking. Her face was blank, her pigtails tied into a bun that made her look very different from her normal self. Emily wanted to walk over to Frieda and say something reassuring, but nothing came to mind. She was ruefully aware that being seen in public with Frieda would only add more meat to the rumors.
“She has been improving,” Cirroc said, quietly. “But she needs to work more on her theory.”
“Which is precisely the section she doesn’t like,” Emily answered, equally quietly. She wasn’t sure how much Cirroc would tell her, although she was employing him. “Did Celadon’s idea actually work?”
“Two times out of four,” Cirroc said. “It’s a very complex spell.”
Emily kept her thoughts to herself as she walked to the front of the chamber. If Celadon’s idea had failed outright, Frieda would probably have felt vindicated. It might have made her be more reasonable afterwards ... along with Celadon himself, who wouldn’t have been winning any prizes for extreme cleverness. A partial success wasn’t bad—Frieda could help weed out the bugs and probably cast the spell herself, something she was good at—but Celadon had excellent reason to feel vindicated. It struck her as a recipe for disaster.
She cleared her throat, glancing from face to face. Adana and Tiega had made it through, along with two other Second Years, but everyone else was Third Year or older. Emily couldn’t help wondering just how much of that had been sheer luck. Adana was good—Tiega was better—but neither of them would be any match for a fifth-year student. They might just have been lucky in who they faced, the first time around. The odds were a little steeper now.
And there’s a greater chance of facing someone superior to them, Emily thought. They would have to start separate contests for each year, sooner or later. Cirroc could handle that, fortunately. Emily had every intention of handing the club over to him as soon as the second round was over. He can make sure the odds are a little fairer next time.
“Welcome to the second round,” she said, flatly. It was hard to work any enthusiasm into her voice, but she tried for their sake. At the back, Jacqui and Cerise looked thoroughly unimpressed. “Eight of you will be on the field at any one time, so pay attention to your referee and ignore the others. Remember the rules and don’t break them. The entire school is watching.”