“She’s not insane,” Emily said.
“It’s an interesting little trick,” Daze said. “You push someone in a certain direction. If they get angry, you make them angrier. Something that annoys them will make them angry instead, making them less inclined to listen to sweet reason. All the little niggles and resentments of life become impossible to tolerate for a second longer. Anchor a little magic into something the victim keeps close to them and ... well, it’s hard for them to realize they’re slowly going mad.”
“Frieda made the bracelet,” Emily said, slowly. She saw it now. “But she did it under your direction, right?”
“Of course,” Daze agreed. “It was her magic, complete with her signature. I was fairly sure that Whitehall’s wards wouldn’t notice.”
Emily felt her chest clench. Of course the wards wouldn’t notice. They couldn’t respond to magic students cast on themselves or the alarms would be going off all the time. Even firsties used protective spells and wards, once they realized the alternative was ducking spells all the time. The bracelet would have set off alarms if someone else had made it ...
“She really does admire you.” Daze glanced behind him. “She calmed down quite a bit, every time you spoke to her. I fancy the effect might have worn off completely without the bracelet.”
Emily followed his gaze. Frieda was standing by the door, as stiff as a board. He’d cast a freeze spell on her, Emily realized. Now she was aware of his manipulations, it would be harder for him to control her. She wondered, idly, why she hadn’t been frozen too. Maybe he just wanted to gloat. Or perhaps he had something worse in mind. He’d clearly already taken the time to study her rune.
“You bastard,” she said. “Why?”
Daze smiled. “Why not?”
... She stands in line, beside a terrifying woman. She is a young girl, barely entering her teens. She feels utterly out of place as the young men approach the matriarch and bow, pledging their services. Daze is one of them, shooting a sidelong smile at his future mistress even as he abases himself before his current matriarch. The smile is so creepy that it takes all of her training to keep her from stepping backwards ...
... Daze is useful, says the matriarch coldly. She smiles at the little girl, but there is no warmth in it. Some people exist to get their hands dirty so others don’t have to. They are there to be used, praised and then discarded. The little girl is scared, but she knows better than to show it. Embarrassing the matriarch in public would cost her ...
Emily recoiled. A memory ... not her memory. Melissa’s memory. She’d been the one who’d seen Daze, years ago. The memory was jumbled—Emily wasn’t sure just how old Melissa had actually been—but most of it was intact. And the matriarch had been ...
“Fulvia,” she said. “You’re working for Fulvia.”
Daze’s eyes opened wide. “How do you know that?”
Emily ignored him. “Fulvia wanted you to drive Frieda mad,” she said. Fulvia had lost her power base because of Emily. She had every reason to want a little revenge. “She assumed, no doubt, that her behavior would reflect badly on me. Right?”
“Something like that,” Daze said. He cocked his head. “How did you know that?”
“You wouldn’t be doing this on your own,” Emily lied. “Someone had to be backing you. I thought she was the most likely suspect.”
She gritted her teeth. Was Fulvia working with Gordian? Had Emily been appointed Head Girl so the position could be turned against her? To make sure she fell and fell hard? Or had her appointment come as a surprise? Gordian certainly hadn’t been pleased. She didn’t think he was that good an actor. Or ... there were too many variables. Perhaps someone as smart as Fulvia had merely started the ball rolling and then sat back to watch and see what happened.
Maybe Fulvia had her plans and Gordian had his, she thought. And the two plans collided.
“Very clever.” Daze smiled. “I must say you are as brave as you are beautiful, Lady Emily. I wasn’t expecting you to come charging after Frieda.”
“Oh,” Emily said. She wondered if she could sweet-talk him into untying her, then dismissed the thought. That only worked in bad novels. “What did you expect to happen?”
Daze shrugged. “But now I have you.” He smirked, unpleasantly. Emily felt a wave of unease that came from Melissa’s memories. “And I think that opens up a whole new set of options.”
“They know where I am,” Emily lied. “They’ll be coming here.”
“Frieda reset your wards for me,” Daze told her. “No one will be able to get into the house.”
Emily shivered. Professor Armstrong and a team of wardcrafters could probably break through the wards, but Daze would have plenty of warning. He could send Frieda to cause a brief diversion while sneaking Emily out the back door ... if, of course, anyone actually showed up. Gordian knew she had the house, of course, but she had no idea how long it would take for him to realize she’d gone there. Hell, the thought of giving someone without a blood tie access to a private house would probably be beyond his comprehension.
She met Daze’s eyes. “Whatever she’s offering you, I’ll double it.”
“You can’t offer me what I want,” Daze said, pleasantly. “And besides, even if you could, I don’t think you’d want to.”
He sat back on his haunches. “Fulvia wants you. She wants you broken. And I will break you. I’m sure you will prove an interesting challenge, Lady Emily, but everyone breaks eventually.”
“Damn you,” Emily managed.
Daze stood up. “I go now to make preparations. I’ll be back soon.”
He strode out of the room, extinguishing the light-globe with a snap of his fingers. The room plunged into darkness. Emily listened for a long moment, but heard nothing. Grandmaster Hasdrubal had wanted his house to be quiet, hadn’t he? He’d worked silencing materials into the walls, as well as charms to keep out the slightest sound from outside. Daze could be standing on the other side of the door and she’d never know about it. Frieda was frozen, unable even to move an eyeball. She would be quiet until the spell was released ...
And perhaps unable to do anything to help, even if the spell was broken, Emily thought, as she tested the bonds. Sergeant Miles had taught her that there was no such thing as a knot that was impossible to undo, but she suspected freeing her hands would take more time than she had. She hadn’t even noticed her ankles were also bound until she tried to move her legs. How many commands did he put into Frieda’s head?