Infinite Regress (8 page)

“As you may have noticed,” Aloha said, “there has been a decline in enrollment since Shadye attacked the school four years ago. Successive events have not made it easier to convince parents to send their children to Whitehall. Indeed, were it not for...
events
... at Mountaintop, the problem would have been a great deal worse. Consequently, despite a heavy recruitment drive, the majority of new students are from non-magical backgrounds.”

Where they won’t have heard so many horror stories
, Emily thought, morbidly. The magical families talked, naturally, but they rarely shared gossip with mundanes.
No wonder they’re so keen to have the newcomers mentored. There won’t be such a great chance to learn from their classmates.

“Grandmaster Gordian has also been intent on ensuring that most of the newcomers arrive at the same time, rather than being slotted into First Year throughout the year as they are discovered,” Aloha continued. “You will be formally introduced to your charges on Sunday, where you will give them a briefing on basic rules, regulations and safety precautions—” she pointed to the pile of papers on the table “—and get to know them. Should they require help and advice, you will give it. If, for whatever reason, you don’t know the answer to their questions, ask me.”

She paused. “I’m hoping that there will be no need for you to
keep
mentoring them past the first couple of months,” she added. “If this works out as I expect, there should be no need to expend any more of your free time mentoring past that point. However, if it doesn’t, please discuss it with me as quickly as possible. This program is still very new.”

But it will do you a great deal of good if it works
, Emily thought. Aloha was already brilliant, but she wanted—needed—more.
You’ll practically be able to write your own ticket
.

Aloha ran through a long list of observations and warnings, then gave them all a mischievous smile. “Are there any questions?”

Cirroc held up a hand. “What is the price of basilisk scales, relative to unicorn dung?”

“Are there any
useful
questions?” Aloha asked, as a flicker of amusement ran around the room. “Something to do with the mentorships, perhaps?”

Melissa coughed for attention. “What do we do if they keep pestering us past the two-month period?”

“If you have time to help them, then help them,” Aloha said. “If you don’t, then explain it to them as gently as you can.”

“Which will make us the bad guys,” Melissa pointed out.

“Bad girls,” Cirroc contradicted.

Melissa gave him a one-fingered gesture, then looked back at Aloha. “Should we just send any further questions to you?”

Aloha’s face flickered with irritation. “Your task is not to give them the answers,” she said, sharply. “I don’t care if it would be easier for you to just dump the answers in front of them or not. Your task is to teach them how to find the answers for themselves. If they ask about hints and tips for alchemical brewing, you can point them to textbooks in the library. A copy of
Practical Brewing
will be far more helpful than just giving them the answer, don’t you think?”

Emily had to agree. She’d never excelled at Alchemy, unlike Imaiqah, but
Practical Brewing
had taught her how to avoid basic mistakes. But she hadn’t even known the book
existed
until she’d stumbled across it in the library. Professor Thande had probably wanted them to find the book for themselves. Whitehall
encouraged
students to look for answers, rather than merely regurgitate back what they were told. It was something she found refreshing after ten years trapped in her former school.

“If you do this right, they shouldn’t need you past a month or two,” Aloha concluded. “And if you do run into problems, just ask for help.”

Master Tor rose. “Emily, Cabiria, stay behind,” he ordered. “Everyone else, take your papers and go.”

“I'
LL SEE YOU OUTSIDE,”
C
ALEB MUTTERED
.

Emily nodded, feeling her heart sink as the remainder of the students collected their papers from Aloha and hurried out of the hall. Cabiria rose and paced over to her, looking surprisingly chipper for someone who’d stayed up half the night devouring a textbook she’d borrowed from the library. Emily rather suspected she’d been drinking potions to keep herself awake, something that would catch up with her sooner or later. But there was no point in making a fuss about it.

She watched Caleb hurrying out the room, followed by Aloha, and then turned back to Master Tor. He looked forbidding, his eyes moving from Emily to Cabiria and back again as if he couldn’t quite decide who annoyed him the most. Emily schooled her face into an impassive mask, and forced herself to wait. She’d hear the bad news soon enough, she was sure. Master Tor had never rebuked her without a good reason, she had to admit, but he’d taken a dislike to her long before they’d met for the first time.

“Welcome back to Whitehall,” Master Tor said, his voice loaded with heavy irony. “You are aware, of course, of the probationary nature of your return?”

“Yes, sir,” Cabiria said.

“Very good,” Master Tor said.

Oddly, he looked reluctant to continue. “If it were up to me,” he added after a moment, “both of you would be excluded from the mentorship program. You already have extra work to do for Professor Locke, as well as being on probation. Your free time will rapidly decline to nothing. However, we simply do not have enough Fifth Year students to take on the task of mentoring newcomers without using you two.”

“Because there’s only twenty-five Fifth Years,” Cabiria said.

Emily nodded in reluctant agreement. There were probably around a hundred First Years entering the school, assuming it was the same number as she recalled from her own First Year. And there might be more, if someone was sent to Whitehall after term officially started. It was possible, despite Grandmaster Gordian’s objections. Emily and Frieda had both
entered Whitehall out of sequence, after all.

“And a couple might drop out,” Master Tor added. He paused. “If either of you are having significant problems after the first month, please come to me and I will make arrangements to have one or more of your duties lifted. You should not have to rely on doing all your studies in class.”

“Thank you,” Emily managed. It
was
astonishing. She’d never really believed that Master Tor would put himself out to help her, let alone pick a fight with the Grandmaster. A word from Gordian could bring Master Tor’s career to an end, instantly. And yet, he
did
take his duties seriously. “I will let you know.”

“But you also need to keep your noses
clean
,” Master Tor warned them, sternly. “You have
both
incurred a great deal of official displeasure. A single mistake will be enough to get either of you expelled. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” Cabiria said.

Emily echoed her a moment later, thinking hard. Master Tor was clearly playing his own game... or maybe he was just trying to do his duty under difficult circumstances. The mentorship scheme wasn’t a bad idea, but it would cause problems for the mentors; she doubted, somehow, that anything Master Tor could do would make a difference. A number of students were still going to have to cope with the stigma of not passing their exams the first time.

“The Shadows at Mountaintop were linked to Third Year students,” she mused aloud. “They had more time for their charges.”

Master Tor shrugged. “I discussed the matter with tutors from Mountaintop,” he said. “It was generally agreed that placing youngsters in the care of students only a couple of years older than themselves was asking for trouble.”

“And yet none of them tried to end it,” Emily said, before she could stop herself. “I don’t know if
Zed
kept it or not.”

“Traditions can be hard to change,” Master Tor acknowledged. “But the greater maturity of you students should be enough to offset any tendencies you have towards bullying or despotism. And if it isn’t, rest assured it will be dealt with.”

Emily nodded, slowly. She wasn’t pleased, any more than any of the other students, but she saw the wisdom in the scheme. And if it consumed far too much of her time, she could probably lodge an official complaint even if Master Tor did nothing. It might weaken Gordian’s position a little.

“Now, to business,” Master Tor said. His lips thinned in disapproval, although for once Emily didn’t think it was aimed at her. “Professor Locke has requested that you both attend upon him today, immediately after lunch. He will inform you of what he has in mind for the coming term, as well as the precise nature of your duties. If his demands consume too much of your study time, tell him and bring it to me if he proves unreasonable. I have already discussed the matter with him, but he rarely has anything to do with students above Third Year.”

“No history exams after that point,” Cabiria noted.

“Correct,” Master Tor agreed. “Whitehall doesn’t offer further training in historical research.”

No archaeologists digging up the past
, Emily thought.
And only a handful of copies of rare historical books, if that
.

“I don’t promise that this will be an easy term for either of you,” Master Tor concluded, firmly. “One would certainly
hope
it would be more peaceful than your last few years. But if you have problems, inform me and I will do what I can.”

He nodded curtly towards the door. Emily nodded back, then rose and followed Cabiria into the corridor. Caleb stood there, underneath a large painting showing the Whitehall Commune, the original founders of Whitehall. They looked like sober and dignified men, Emily thought as Caleb gave her a quick hug, but there was no way to know if they’d
actually
looked like their painting. She’d seen paintings of Lord Whitehall that made him look like Dumbledore and others that made him look like Jonathon Strange.

“That didn’t take long,” Caleb said, as he released her. “What happened?”

“We’re to report to Professor Locke after lunch,” Emily said. Cabiria winked at her, then strolled off down the corridor, swinging her hips in a ludicrously sassy manner. “He’ll be telling us what he wants us to do.”

“It hardly seems fair,” Caleb said, as he checked his watch. “You’re going to be studying hard, doing the project with me... as well as mentoring students and doing whatever Professor Locke wants. You’re going to need thirty hours to a day.”

“Master Tor did say he’d help if I couldn’t keep up,” Emily said. She had the feeling Master Tor was sincere, but what about Gordian? If he couldn’t expel her, he might just keep up the pressure in hopes of forcing her to quit on her own. “I don’t know
what’s
going to happen.”

Caleb took her hand and led her down the corridor. “Right now, we’re going for a walk,” he said. “It’s supposed to be a lovely day outside.”

“I need to write a letter,” Emily said. “Can you wait for ten minutes while I write and post it?”

“I suppose,” Caleb said, reluctantly. They reached the stairwell and headed back up to the dorms. “Casper is going to laugh his head off.”

Emily glanced at him. “Your brother? Why?”

Caleb snorted. “I was a failure as platoon corporal,” he said. “Telling people what to do didn’t come naturally. And I wouldn’t even have gotten
that
post if my father hadn’t pulled strings.”

“You’ll be four years older than any of the students you’re supposed to mentor,” Emily pointed out. “If there are a hundred newcomers and twenty-five of us, you’ll have five students at most.”

“There could be more,” Caleb countered. “I don’t think they’d assign female mentors to male students and vice versa.”

“True,” Emily agreed. A magical family would have no qualms about sending their daughters to Whitehall—or Mountaintop—but a mundane one would be rather more reluctant to do the same. Imaiqah might not have been allowed to attend if she hadn’t had several older siblings who could work for their parents. “There might be a gender imbalance.”

“Or there might be more girls,” Caleb pointed out. “Stronghold has been recruiting heavily over the last couple of years.”

Emily nodded as they reached the dorms and walked down to her bedroom. Stronghold discouraged girls from attending, even though women made up roughly half of the magical population. Indeed, from what she’d heard, there were only a handful of girls at Stronghold at any one time. If Stronghold had been soaking up the male candidates, Whitehall might get more female students to compensate. And that would mean more girls to be distributed between the female mentors.

She allowed herself a moment of relief as she opened the door and saw the room was empty—Cabiria might not have objected to Caleb’s presence, but she didn’t really want to have her in the same room—then motioned for Caleb to sit on her bed as she sat down at the desk and reached for a piece of paper. Lady Barb had drilled her on how to write a private letter, drilled her so hard that Emily rather suspected that no one
could read her words without destroying the paper. She’d accidentally managed to keep
herself
from reading her work several times before she got the hang of the charm.

And if I mess this up, Mistress Danielle won’t be able to read it either
, she thought.

“Caleb,” she said slowly, “when are we next going to Dragon’s Den?”

“We can go any time outside classes,” Caleb said. He smiled as she glanced at him. “We’re not new bugs anymore.”

Emily frowned. She’d taken the chance to study her schedule the previous evening and it had been
packed
with classes, including several that were likely to take up half the day and leave her exhausted at the end of it. Her weekends were free, as normal, but she rather suspected she would be occupied with both mentoring and working for Professor Locke. Indeed, she wasn’t sure
when
she would have time to get down to Dragon’s Den. Even getting there required half an hour in the coach...