Infinite Regress (6 page)

“Point,” Emily agreed. She picked up the books and carefully returned them to the librarian’s trolley. She’d offered to return the books to the shelves, but Lady Aliya had flatly refused to allow her to waste her time. “How long do we have?”

Frieda glanced out of the window. “I’d say around a couple of hours before the first students arrive,” she said, as they headed for the door. “But it depends on how they travel.”

Emily nodded. Some students would take coaches to Dragon’s Den, where they would be picked up by the staff, but others would travel to the White City and step through the portals that would take them directly to Whitehall. She rather suspected
she
was the only student in her year who could teleport, although someone like Jade or Aloha might well have mastered the skill on their own. Aloha, in particular, was certainly good enough to cast the spell even under pressure, accounting for all of the variables before it was too late.

But no one can teleport into the school
, she thought. The papers she’d been given by Griselda had made it clear that teleporting was strictly forbidden within Whitehall. There was no list of consequences, but the wards would make teleporting very dangerous.
They’d have to teleport to a point beyond the wards and walk into the school
.

They stopped at the kitchens long enough to pick up a snack, then walked out onto the grounds and up to the mountain pathways. The wards flickered around them, but made no objection to their departure. Emily smiled, relaxing despite herself, as the warm summer heat soaked into her skin. The weather surrounding the castle was always variable, thanks to the nexus point, but for once it was cooperating nicely. She watched a flight of birds skimming through the air, a couple dropping down to snatch at small creatures in the undergrowth and return, carrying tiny mice in their claws. Beside her, Frieda chatted about her coming classes and her application for Martial Magic.

“I still don’t know who I’ll be rooming with,” Frieda said. “How is your roommate?”

“She seems nice,” Emily said, after a moment. She rather liked Cabiria, although she wasn’t sure how far she
trusted
her. Cabiria didn’t seem to have any moral or ethical qualms about her research at all. “It could be worse, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” Frieda agreed. “You could be rooming with Melissa.”

Emily scowled at the thought. Melissa and she would never be friends, even though she’d done Melissa a colossal favor last year. And yet, Melissa had been cut adrift by her former cronies, after she’d been formally disowned from her family. Emily felt a stab of sympathy, followed by guilt. She hadn’t known what it was like to have friends until recently, but now she hated the idea of losing her friends. Chatting through the parchments was just not the same.

If they cut her loose so sharply, they weren’t true friends
, she told herself. And yet, she knew it wasn’t a convincing argument.
Melissa will miss them even as she hates them for not being her true friends
.

She pushed the thought out of her mind as they walked on, then started the long trek back to Whitehall as the sky began to darken. Rain splattered down around them, bouncing off the wards they hastily erected, running in rivulets towards the lake. She glanced down at her charmed boots, silently grateful that the charms would keep the leather from spoiling. It was an expensive pair, even by Queen Marlena’s standards. Emily would have preferred to refuse the gift, but there was no polite way to do so.

And they keep my feet dry
, she thought.
Buying a new pair with similar charms would be tricky
.

They reached the bottom of the hill and walked straight towards Whitehall. A handful of carriages were parked outside the courtyard, their passengers using wards to shield themselves as they levitated trunks into the castle. Emily caught sight of Pandora and Prunella arguing over
something
and gave them both a wide berth. Pandora had never made much of an impression on her, but Prunella could be nasty if pushed. There was no point in getting into a fight she knew she’d be blamed for starting.

“There’s Melissa,” Frieda said. “And the Gorgon.”

Emily smiled as she hurried towards her friends. Seeing them together was a shock—she’d never imagined Melissa becoming friends with the Gorgon—but perhaps it made a certain kind of sense. They were both outcasts, after all; the Gorgon by nature and Melissa by choice. Emily wondered if Markus had accompanied Melissa, then remembered he probably wouldn’t have been allowed past Dragon’s Den.
His
family were less concerned with the near-disaster in Cockatrice than the Ashworths, but Gordian would probably be reluctant to give them cause to dislike him.

Not that it matters
, Emily thought.
The Ashworths alone will be happy to make their feelings clear
.

“Emily,” the Gorgon said. There was, as always, a faint hiss in her voice, her snakes echoing her words. “I’m glad you got to stay.”

“Me too,” Emily said. She glanced at Melissa, then looked back at the Gorgon. “How was your holiday?”

“I went back to the homeland after the wedding,” the Gorgon said. She didn’t seem concerned by the question. “And I did a lot of reading as well as working.”

She shrugged. “My family has been trying to betroth me to a young man,” she added, after a moment. “He’s an old friend—I’ve known him for years—but I want to finish my studies first.”

Emily frowned. “And you’re all right with marrying him?”

“I do like him,” the Gorgon said. “And he
is
a good friend.”

“At least you
know
him,” Melissa said, tiredly.

Emily nodded. Even now, four years after entering the Nameless World, it still struck her—sometimes—just how different it was from Earth. The idea of an arranged marriage was intolerable to her, but the Gorgon seemed accepting—and happy. Maybe Melissa was right, maybe it made a difference if one knew the prospective partner ahead of time. Besides, the Gorgon was a powerful magician in her own right. Emily rather doubted that anyone, even another Gorgon, could push her around easily.

“I’m glad to hear it,” she said. It was hard not to ask if she was sure, but there was no way that question wouldn’t be taken as an insult. “Are we going to meet him before the wedding?”

“I’m not sure,” the Gorgon admitted. “He probably won’t want to come to Dragon’s Den.”

“He can always travel with Markus,” Melissa pointed out. “That should make things easier.”

“Should,” the Gorgon said.

“Emily,” a familiar voice called.

Emily turned—and felt herself smile as she saw Caleb, jumping out of a carriage and running towards her. She opened her arms and hugged him, tightly, his lips pressing against hers. It struck her, a second too late, that they were kissing in front of dozens of people, but it was suddenly very hard to care. Her heart was pounding so hard she wondered why no one else could hear it.

Caleb pulled back, still holding her. “Are you all right?”

“I’ll tell you everything later,” Emily said. She adjusted her hair, uncomfortably. Too many people were looking at them. “How was the trip?”

“Uncomfortable,” Caleb said. “We were taking Karan to Stronghold for her very first term.”

Emily nodded, remembering the younger girl. “Is she going to be fine?”

“I think so,” Caleb said. “She has magic and she’s tough. I think she’ll be all right.”

He waved a hand at the carriage, summoning his trunk. Emily watched with some amusement as he exchanged signals with the driver, then levitated the trunk into the air and floated it towards the castle. Emily waved goodbye to Frieda and the others before allowing him to lead her after the trunk. It felt good, better than she’d expected, to be standing so close to him once again. Caleb held her hand gently, but firmly, as if he didn’t want to ever let go. She didn’t really want to let go either.

She looked up at him, drinking in the view. Caleb wasn’t conventionally handsome, unlike Jade or Markus, but there was a strength of character there that she found surprisingly reassuring. His hair had grown longer over the summer, hanging down to touch his shoulders; she rather suspected he’d grown it out just to annoy his stern, military-minded father. It would probably start getting in his way soon, unless he had it cut short once school started in earnest. Maybe there were girls who wouldn’t find him attractive, but she did. And that was all that mattered.

“I’ve missed you,” Caleb said. “I would have visited if I could.”

Emily nodded, shortly. It was partly her fault—she wasn’t really keen on the idea of inviting
anyone
to her house, save for Frieda—but Lady Barb had advised her to be careful what she and Caleb did in public. They were courting, after all; they weren’t entering a short-lived relationship... in hindsight, she admitted privately, the formal courtship might have been a mistake. But it did prove that Caleb was serious...

“I understand,” she said. “I wish you’d been there when we went traveling.”

She shook her head. “How’s your family?”

Caleb’s face darkened. “Father is currently working with some of his old comrades to put together a regiment of musketmen,” he said. “After what happened in Zangaria... well, any doubt there might have been has vanished. There are enough rumbles near the Desert of Death to suggest we might need to get a larger military force in place soon. Mother... is well enough, now there’s only one of us left at home. Poor Marian.”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Emily said. “Your mother is a decent person.”

“She’s also a strict homeschooler,” Caleb said. He smiled, rather dryly. “She’s had plenty of practice on the rest of us.”

Emily nodded. Homeschooling preteens was common amongst magical families, even though the largest cities often had quite a few schools of varying quality. She expected that there would be an explosion in education soon, as the New Learning spread further, but she doubted the homeschooling aspect would change anytime soon. There was too much to be gained by teaching the children the basics of their heritage and magical theory, in addition to reading, writing and arithmetic. Maybe it was a very basic education, she had to admit, but it was better than anything she’d personally experienced on Earth.

They floated the trunk into the castle, then stopped as they saw a grim-faced tutor standing just inside the gate. “These are your updated papers,” he said, passing Caleb a stuffed envelope. “Report to the Great Hall at ten bells, tomorrow morning.”

He glanced at Emily. “The same for you too, young lady.”

“Understood,” Emily said, curtly. She didn’t recognize him. Was he Mistress Irene’s replacement? She’d hoped that Professor Lombardi would get pushed into the Deputy Grandmaster position, but there had been no word on it as far as she knew. “Are there any updated papers for me?”

“They’ll have been sent to your room,” the tutor said. “Move along, please.”

Caleb shrugged and levitated the trunk up the stairs and on to the fifth floor, pushing it down the corridor towards the dorms. Emily followed, lifting her eyebrows in surprise as she realized that both male and female students were sharing the dorms. There wouldn’t be any co-ed roommates, she was sure, yet it was still unusual. But there were only twenty-five fifth years, if she recalled correctly. Whitehall was vast, but her masters probably thought it made more sense to keep the fifth year students in one place.

Madame Rosalinda greeted them at the door, then showed Caleb the way to his room and frowned disapprovingly when Emily followed him into the chamber. There was no window, but apart from that there was no real difference between his room and hers. Caleb placed his trunk neatly on the floor, then pulled Emily into a long kiss, his hands gently stroking her back as the kiss grew deeper. Emily found herself torn, once again, between the urge to go further with him and the urge to pull back and run. She just didn’t trust the feelings coursing through her body...

The door opened. She jumped back, alarmed, as a dark-skinned young man stepped into the room, his trunk floating behind him like a clingy puppy. Caleb turned, one hand raised in a casting pose, then sighed in relief as he recognized the newcomer. Emily, who didn’t, remained tense.

“Cirroc,” he said. “They held you back?”

“Messed up one of the exams and got told to repeat the year,” Cirroc said. He had a nice smile, Emily noted; indeed, come to think of it, she had
heard
of Cirroc as one of Imaiqah’s many boyfriends. She just hadn’t met him before. “At least I didn’t manage to cripple myself.”

“I got better,” Caleb said. “And I didn’t manage to get
ordered
to repeat the year.”

Cirroc conceded the point with a nod, then looked at Emily. “And this is?”

“Emily,” Emily said. She held out a hand for him to shake. “Just plain Emily.”

“There’s nothing
plain
about you,” Cirroc said. He shook her hand, then kissed the air over the back of her hand. “I’m quite looking forward to spending the year in your classes.”

“That makes you the only one,” Emily said, flustered. “I’ll leave you two to finish unpacking, shall I?”

“Don’t mind me,” Cirroc teased. “You can carry on, if you like.”

“That’s enough,” Caleb said. There was a warning note to his voice. “Really.”

“Probably,” Cirroc said. He shrugged, expressively. “You want to hear some bad news?”

“No,” Caleb said. “What is it?”

“I just discovered who’s going to be our Year Head,” Cirroc said. “Professor Thande has been demoted to handling itty bitty third year brats. Master Tor has returned and will be taking us.”

Emily blinked. “Master Tor?”

“Yeah,” Cirroc said. “You know him?”

“Just a little,” Emily said.

She cursed her luck under her breath.
That
, at least, explained why Gordian had known so much about her misadventures in Second Year. Master Tor had been the one who’d caught her. She still flushed when she remembered the scathing lecture he’d given her, before the first of the Mimic’s victims had been discovered. And he’d had a point. She hated to admit it, but he’d had a very good point.