Bookworm II: The Very Ugly Duckling (20 page)

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Authors: Christopher Nuttall

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BOOK: Bookworm II: The Very Ugly Duckling
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“Just be careful,” she said, finally. “Men and women often see things differently. She may not realise that you’re interested in her; she might even have a boyfriend already. And she might be put off if you come on too hard. So be careful.”

She turned away so he wouldn’t see her smile, then led the way back to the experimental chamber. The wards Johan had damaged had regenerated themselves completely, she was relieved to discover; rebuilding them would have been a nightmarish task if they’d been shattered beyond hope of repair. In the long run, they would
definitely
have to move out of the Great Library. An accident here could have disastrous consequences for the entire Empire.

“The first piece of magic you did was to break your brother’s spell,” she said, once the door was shut and the analysis spells were running properly. “What did you do to do it?”

“I don’t know,” Johan admitted. He sounded rather frustrated by the question. “I just
did
it.”

“Two-thirds of the entire magical population of the world would be
unable
to do it,” Elaine said, calmly. “Cancelling spells can require gestures ... and it’s hard to move if one is frozen in place. Even
I
would have great difficulty in breaking free. But enough magicians can do it to convince duellists that the only way to win is to kill their opponents while frozen, before they can break free.”

She shivered as memories ran through her head, memories that weren’t really hers. Duelling as practiced today was a pale shadow of the past, when magicians had fought at the drop of a hat and done truly terrifying things to their enemies. A magician who froze his opponent could do
anything
to him ... and many had, while their enemies were helpless.

Johan’s voice penetrated her thoughts. “Are you all right?”

Elaine nodded, pulling herself back to the present. “I think so,” she said, numbly. “I want to cast another such spell on you and see if you can break free.”

***

Johan swallowed, hard. His mouth felt so dry it hurt.

He trusted Elaine, insofar as he trusted anyone. She certainly didn’t have the malice that Jamal and the rest of his siblings, even Charity, had shown from time to time. And she talked to him as though he were an equal. But the thought of being helpless again scared him so deeply he could hardly speak.

“All right,” he managed, finally. He tried to stop his body shaking, but it only made it worse. “Do it.”

Elaine frowned, then waved her wand. Johan felt his body simply ...
stop
. The spell prevented all voluntary movement; indeed, he wasn’t even sure if he was still
breathing
. He could hear his heartbeat pounding inside his chest, hammering faster and faster as panic threatened to set in and ... he wanted to be free, he needed to be free, he ...

He fell towards the floor, landing in a heap. The pain helped focus his mind, but his head was still spinning madly as he fought to control himself. He felt a hand touch his shoulder and looked up to see Elaine’s concerned eyes staring down at him. But there was something wrong with her eyes ...

“What ...” He stopped, swallowed, and tried again. “What’s wrong with your eyes?”

“Long story,” Elaine said. She held out a hand, helping him to his feet. As his thoughts settled, the strange blur he’d seen over Elaine’s eyes faded away. Soft brown eyes held his, looking sad and guilty. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to panic you.”

Johan grinned, pushing the mystery of her eyes to one side. “I broke the spell, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Elaine confirmed. “Well done.”

“Jamal is in for one hell of a surprise,” Johan said, fighting down the urge to start laughing hysterically. Who would have thought that the way to deal with his brother’s torments was to tell them to
stop
. “Do it again!”

Elaine’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she said. “You’re clearly not in a good state.”

“Please,” Johan begged. The sheer absurdity of the scene struck him and he started to giggle helplessly. He was
begging
for a spell he’d always considered a tool Jamal used to torment him. “Do it, please!”

“Fine,” Elaine said. She waved her wand. Johan froze. “Break free, now.”

Johan staggered as the spell snapped. This time, he had balanced himself before Elaine used the spell, ensuring that he wouldn’t fall over. But there was still
some
effect when the spell snapped ...

“Tell me,” Elaine said, as Johan sat down on the cold floor. “Did you feel anything when the spell struck you?”

“I froze,” Johan said, dryly. But he thought he knew what she meant. “I didn’t sense any magic before then.”

“Interesting,” Elaine said. “A normal magician would have sensed me casting the charm, giving him a chance to block it. You ... do not.”

She frowned, stroking her chin. “I want you to try to block the charm this time,” she said, as she motioned him back to his feet. “Start walking, but concentrate on wanting to
keep
walking.”

Johan started to pace around the room. Twelve seconds later, the spell struck him and he froze. He broke out a moment later and started to walk again; the next time, he froze again.

“Interesting,” Elaine said, again. “You have to actually be affected by the spell to counter it.”

“Not good,” Johan said. If it took him a few seconds to break the spell every time it caught him, it gave his enemy a chance to hit him with something more lethal. “Do I have to think about a defence all the time?”

“Maybe,” Elaine said. “This time, I want you to imagine that there is a shield protecting you from all attacks. It protects you completely – you have to keep that in mind.”

“While walking,” Johan commented. “Do I have to keep both things in my mind at the same time?”

“Yes,” Elaine said. “Or else it may not work.”

Concentrating, imagining a protective bubble centred on him, Johan started to walk.

***

Elaine had been told, once, that when a student
wanted
to learn it was a bad idea to discourage them. It was the principle the Peerless School followed, although half the time the students wanted to learn magic they could use on their fellow classmates rather than anything useful. But she was deeply worried about Johan. No matter what sort of brave face he tried to project, it was far too clear that the paralysis spell brought back bad memories, if not outright trauma. Traumatising a magician was far from a good idea even at the best of times.

“Last time,” she said, and raised her wand. “Here we go.”

She cast the spell. Magic flared around Johan – for a moment, she
saw
a translucent bubble protecting him – and then it flashed back at her. There was no time to react before it caught her and her entire body locked solid, caught in a ridiculous pose. She’d been trapped by her own spell.

It shouldn’t have done that
, she thought, trying to summon the discipline to cancel the spell without needing to move her hands.
The spell shouldn’t have had the energy to reflect all the way back to me
...

Johan turned and stared. His face was etched with horror, much to Elaine’s relief. He’d shown similar horror when he’d accidentally turned Charity into a rat. At least he wasn’t likely to go seek revenge on everyone who had abused him, even if he
was
turning his back on his family.

“I didn’t mean to,” he protested, as he stepped towards her. “I ...”

Elaine would have smiled as reassuringly as she could if she had been able to move a muscle. Instead, she concentrated ... but nothing happened. Had Johan’s bubble altered the spell or was she too agitated to think properly? It was hard to be sure. She tried again, and again, yet her body refused to move. Johan touched her, lightly, as if he wasn’t quite sure what had happened.

“Move again,” he said, desperately. “Please ...”

Elaine toppled forward. She would have hit the ground if Johan hadn’t caught her and broken her fall. Carefully, she returned her wand to her belt and stood upright, leaning on him for a long moment. The attempts to free herself had failed, but they had still cost her a great deal of energy. She really needed a rest and some time to think.

“I didn’t mean to do that to you,” Johan said. “I just imagined a mirror.”

“I know,” Elaine said, unable to keep an edge out of her voice. “Be careful what you imagine in future.”

“That can’t be the answer,” Johan said. “If that were true ...”

His voice trailed off. Elaine could guess what he was thinking. If that were true, wouldn’t poor Jayne have been stripped naked as soon as he looked at her? There were no shortage of spells that did just that, spells that were often used in the Peerless School as
pranks
. But Johan hadn’t stripped anyone naked.

“I think you probably have to actually
want
something to happen,” Elaine said. It might explain his poor results with actual spellwork. He wanted the spell to work so desperately that it was colossally overpowered. “I think you really wanted to destroy your father’s letter.”

Johan nodded. “I did,” he said.

He reached into his pocket and produced a sheet of paper. “That’s the reply I wrote,” he explained. “If you’re going to take me on as an apprentice, you might as well read it.”

Elaine skimmed it. Johan didn’t mince words; after giving his father a piece of his mind, he told him in no uncertain terms that he would not be coming home. The letter fairly dripped with anger and hatred. Elaine barely knew Johan’s father, but she would have bet good money that he would lose control of his own magic after reading the letter.

“I think you shouldn’t be so rude,” she said, softly. She disliked confrontation, as a rule, and pointlessly irritating Johan’s father would do no good for future relationships between them. “He is still your father.”

Johan glared at her, his face twisted into a stubborn pose. “And I don’t want anything to do with him, ever again,” he said. “I’d sooner be a Nancy-Boy in Red Street than speak to him again.”

Elaine lifted her eyebrows. “Where did you hear of them?”

“Jamal mentioned them once,” Johan admitted. He frowned, curiosity winning over anger. “What do they actually do?”

“You don’t want to know,” Elaine said, reluctant to allow him to change the subject. “But you shouldn’t send this to your father. He could make life very difficult for you.”

Johan’s glare returned. “How?”

“He is the head of a magical house and master of a patronage network that stretches over the entire Empire,” Elaine pointed out, ruthlessly. “Even if he doesn’t try to have you brought home as a runaway child, he can still ensure that you have no hope of getting a job. Your magic might be new and interesting, but not many people will gamble on taking you on when your father is badmouthing you to everyone.”

Johan scowled, then bowed his head.

“I won’t let him think that I am going back to him,” he said, firmly.

“Then don’t,” Elaine said. “But think carefully about what you want to say.”

“He’ll think I’m showing weakness,” Johan muttered. “I
know
him.”

Elaine smiled. “Write it out, then we will have lunch and go to the zoo,” she said. “It’s been too long since I’ve been there and you might like it.”

“No one ever took me,” Johan said, softly. Elaine felt a matching wince as she remembered how few outings she’d been able to take from the orphanage. Only a handful of wealthy benefactors had paid for them ... and they had never met the hidden costs. “Thank you.”

He looked up at her, suddenly. “Do I scare you?”

The sudden change in subject surprised Elaine, as – she realised – it had been meant to do.

“No,” she said, after a long moment. “Not you personally. But the potential you represent worries me greatly. It could turn the world upside down.”

 

Chapter Seventeen

Johan mulled over what she’d said as they shared a dinner of roast beef, potatoes and several different kinds of vegetables, unable to come to any firm conclusion. If he represented previously undiscovered potential ... what did it
mean
?

Power always comes with a price
, his father had been fond of saying, but Johan had never really seen it. Jamal certainly hadn’t paid a price for having his power, while Johan had paid too much for not having
any
power. Even now, he couldn’t help thinking that he was still paying. The closest thing he had to a friend was scared of his potential. What did that mean for the future?

“If this happened to me,” he asked, “what’s to stop it happening to someone else?”

“Nothing,” Elaine said, simply. “But then, we don’t know if you unlocked some hidden power within your blood or if you somehow gained powers in a freak accident.”

Johan scowled. “I’m always going to be alone, aren’t I?”

“Everyone is alone,” Elaine said. The bitterness in her voice surprised him, reminding him that he knew almost nothing about her. Someone who held such a high position should be firmly in the public eye, but Elaine had shunned it to the point that he hadn’t known who she was until she introduced herself. “Even the most outgoing person in the world has secrets they don’t dare share with their closest friends.”

She finished her plate and stood up. “I’m going to change,” she said. “I suggest that you do the same. Just wear something suitable for a walk out in the city.”

“Father would say I should wear a fine suit if I didn’t want to wear robes,” Johan pointed out. “Can I just wear plain clothes?”

“If you want,” Elaine said. “Just remember you have to walk in whatever you wear.”

Johan watched her go, then stood up himself and walked over to the wardrobe. Whoever had filled it had done an excellent job, he had to admit; they’d given him several sets of robes, but also trousers, shirts, waistcoats and underclothes. Pulling out a pair of simple, but elegantly tailored trousers, he undressed quickly and started to pull on the new outfit. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed that he looked different enough that the handful of people who knew him would probably fail to recognise him.

I should start working on glamours
, he thought, sourly. His father had a network of friends and clients, all of whom might start looking for him. Johan had no official portrait, as part of his family’s attempts to pretend that he didn’t exist, but he had the distinctive features of his family. They would probably start by looking at Jamal’s portrait, then try to imagine someone younger and a little softer. God knew Jamal had remarked, more than once, that Johan had a weak chin.

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