Nanette's Tale

Chapter 6

Nanette was surprised to discover, as she started to settle in, that she rather liked Laughter. There were downsides — she had to pretend to be ignorant, when she wasn’t trying to be stupid — and she found herself more isolated than she would have preferred, but she had to admit it had its advantages. The classes were smaller, allowing the tutors to give each student more individual attention, and some of the magics were new and different even for her. She was tempted, more than once, to see if she could wrangle herself a permanent place at the school. Only the grim certainty she had to keep her word to Cloak kept her from trying to find a way to stay.

It wasn’t easy to pretend to be ignorant, not when it brought all kinds of unwanted attention from the cliques. Nanette had expected it — the person at the bottom of the social ladder was dumped on by everyone above her — but it was still disconcerting to be so alone. Penny was the closest thing to a friend she had at Laughter, a friendship aided by subtle suggestions that Penny should be well-disposed towards her, yet even she was little more than formal outside their shared bedroom. Nanette understood that too — Penny’s friends would judge her harshly if she appeared too friendly with the school’s loser — but she hated it. The feeling spurred her on, driving her to lay her plans. And, finally, she convinced Penny to show her the library.

“There are two levels to the library,” Penny explained. “The first level is open to everyone, even you. You can use the books to practice your reading.”

“Or learn a dictation charm,” Nanette said, flushing. She knew how to read perfectly, damn it! But pretending otherwise was an excellent way to look dumb. People might make excuses for a commoner who couldn’t read, but an aristo? She should be able to read if she wanted to go to school. “What about the second level?”

“That’s the restricted section,” Penny said. “You’re not allowed to read those books unless you have special permission or perks.”

“Like being Head Girl,” Nanette guessed. “Are you allowed to read them?”

“Some of them,” Penny said. “But not all.”

Nanette nodded as she peered around the library. Emily would have loved it. There were bookshelves everywhere, some positioned against the walls and others standing in the middle of the room. The chamber felt like a giant maze, bigger on the inside than the outside. She allowed Penny to lead her through the stacks, pointing out the more interesting tomes — and joking that books on reproduction were always on loan — before she indicated the restricted section. The books were sealed in a cage, surrounded by nasty wards. Nanette wondered, idly, just who the wards were protecting. It was quite possible they were protecting the readers rather than the books themselves.

And they’re an order of magnitude more complex than anything I’ve seen elsewhere, she thought. She half-listened to Penny’s prattle while she studied the wards. The staff offices aren’t as heavily protected as the library books.

“If you get permission to read them, you can’t take them out of the library,” Penny said, as she opened the cage. “The librarians will hex first and ask questions later.”

Nanette nodded. The restricted section was remarkably light on the truly dangerous tomes — she’d seen darker books in Aurelius’s private collection — but each volume was carefully secured in place and tagged with a complex and deadly charm. She shivered as her gaze wandered the shelves, passing over Advanced Alchemy and Curse-Breaking Wards before coming to rest on Lamplighter’s Lines. It looked identical to the copy in her trunk, heavily secured behind wards and obscurification charms. She had the nasty feeling she wouldn’t have time to so much as read the text, let alone copy the notes. There was nothing for it. She’d have to perform the swap as quickly as possible and then vanish.

“Some students work their detentions off here,” Penny said, waving a hand at the book trolley. “You’d hate that, wouldn’t you?”

“I guess so,” Nanette said. She’d continued to pretend she had difficulty reading the older books. “Do you think the librarians would let me have time to read?”

“Not when you’re meant to be working,” Penny said. “But I’ve heard that some helpers manage to hide books in the stacks for later reading.”

Which seems to be common everywhere, Nanette thought. Whitehall and Mountaintop had the same problem. There are too few books and too many people who want to read them.

“I’ll bear it in mind,” she said. “What do we do now?”

“Well, I have to go help plan the flying display,” Penny said. “You can stay here and pretend to read.”

Nanette pouted after Penny as she departed. The Young Head Girl might be happy to take etiquette and dancing lessons from her, but she had made no move to induct Nanette into her wider circle of friends. Nanette understood — she was quite happy to take advantage of it — yet it gnawed at her. Penny might have been a friend, if things had been different. And yet… she shook her head as she surveyed the trolley, noting the presence of new printed books amongst the tomes. She was mildly surprised to see a handful of blue books in plain view, even though they were technically forbidden. They weren’t even in the restricted section.

She picked up a textbook, sat down on a comfortable chair and pretended to read while opening her mind to study the wards. They were complex, too complex to take down or spoof without setting off alarms. Only a handful of people were allowed to enter the section without permission, she guessed, and it would be difficult to pose as one of them. The wards might just be smart enough to spot someone who appeared to be in two places at once and alert their wardmaster. And then… Nanette shook her head. The restricted section was a lure to anyone with even the slightest hint of ambition. All the easy ways to get into the cage would have been tried long ago.

Which means I have to be sneaky, she thought, as she heard a bunch of new students entering the library. Lauran was amongst them, her face set in a permanent sneer. Damn it.

Nanette stood, returned the book to the trolley and headed for the door. Lauran glared at her, but said nothing. Librarians tended to be touchy about people starting fights in the libraries and rarely bothered to sort out who was actually guilty before handing out punishments and detentions. She stepped through the door, taking advantage of the moment to study the ward protecting the outer library from the rest of the school. It, at least, would be easy to fool… assuming she managed to transfer the charms from one book to the other. She took a breath as she walked down the stairs. She might have to take the copy in and out of the library first, just to see if the wards reacted. She might be able to come up with a good explanation for owning a copy. There was no reasonable explanation for trying to swap one book for the other.

Even being caught with the text would merit some questioning, she mused. As far as they know, I can’t read properly.

She passed a pair of younger students pinning a poster to the walls. Someone had drawn an idealised witch flying a pitchfork, surrounded by a cluster of youngsters flying under their own power. The text called for volunteers to join the flying team, promising a whole series of rewards that would be meaningless when the teamsters left school. Nanette’s lips twitched in dark amusement. Ken taught useful skills, particularly if one knew one might be going into combat. Flying was useless when one’s enemies could bring one down with a simple spell.

Unless there’s more to it than we know, she thought. It didn’t seem likely. The spells were complex, but easy to disrupt. And everyone would be doing it, if it gave a real advantage.

Her feet carried her on, past a handful of empty classrooms and down a flight of stairs to the lower levels. Laughter seemed bigger on the inside, although she wasn’t sure that was actually true. The school had grown down, digging further and further into the mountain with each passing decade. Nanette remembered the tunnels under Mountaintop and shivered. Digging too deep was dangerous. Who knew what one might wake?

She turned the corner and stopped, dead. A trio of third years were casting hexes towards a cowering girl. Nanette stared, torn between horror and grim understanding. Students needed to learn to defend themselves, but… they were third years, casting spells on a younger girl… on Lillian. Nanette’s heart twisted. The girl reminded her of herself, when she’d been a firstie herself. And yet, Lillian didn’t have the power or the nerve to fight back. She might even have come to believe it was impossible.

Nanette clenched her fists, unsure what to do. Mountaintop’s rules were clear. Sink or swim… but even Mountaintop believed older students shouldn’t be starting fights with younger students. A three-year gap was almost insurmountable, certainly for a common-born girl who’d barely been schooled in magic. Nanette had needed nearly four months to find a way to strike back at her tormentor and it had nearly gotten her expelled. Lillian screamed as an invisible force hoisted her off the ground, flipping her upside down. Nanette felt a wave of boiling rage. How dare they?

Magic flowed through her, shaped by her anger and the bitter memory of being just as helpless herself. One of the girls glanced up, an instant before she and her friends started to melt. Their dresses hit the floor, jumping and jerking as if they were animated by a prank spell. Nanette hastily cast a floatation spell as Lillian fell, catching her before she could slam her head into the stone floor. The younger girl seemed to be going into shock. Nanette wondered if she was more surprised by someone helping her than anything else.

She stalked over and picked up one of the empty dresses. A small green frog stared up at her, eyes blinking. Nanette snorted, rudely. They’d been so sure no one would stop them that they hadn’t thought to look to their protections. They couldn’t have kept her from hurting them, if she’d wished, but they could have saved themselves considerable embarrassment. The entire school thought Nadine was a useless loser who probably needed a wand to do anything complex. And she’d just turned three girls into frogs…

A hand caught her ear and yanked her back. “And I suppose,” Lady Damia said, “that you have a good explanation for this?”

“She saved me,” Lillian stammered. “She…”

“I asked Nadine,” Lady Damia said, as she twisted Nanette’s ear. “Do you have an answer, girl?”

Nanette cursed herself savagely. She’d acted like Emily. Jumping in to help without thinking of the consequences. Being seen to use powerful magic by the students was bad enough, but being seen by the tutors… Lady Damia would talk, of course, and Mistress Jens would wonder why Nadine was such an incompetent in her class and yet so brilliant outside it. She kicked herself, mentally. She had to recover the situation, but how?

“They were annoying me,” she said, in a tone that would have earned her a slap if she’d used it to her mother. She wanted — she needed — to irritate the older woman. An irritated person wouldn’t think too clearly. “I can turn them back if you like.”

She cancelled the spell before the tutor could answer. The three girls screamed as they reverted to normal, stark naked. Nanette giggled, despite everything, as they tried to cover themselves, grab for their clothes, curtsey to the tutor and run like the wind, all at the same time. The embarrassment of being turned into frogs was nothing compared to being stripped in public. There’d been a boy at Mountaintop who liked casting strip-spells on girls. What the girls had done to him was still talked about in whispers…

Lady Damia froze the girls with a icy look, then glared at Nantette. “Do you think it is fair to pick on girls two years your junior?”

Nanette could have pointed out, rather sardonically, that the girls had been doing the same… worse, perhaps, because Lillian had far less magic than any of them. But Nadine would have whined…

“It’s not fair,” she said. “I… they… they were annoying me.”

“I see.” Lady Damia studied her for a long moment. “You have a lot to learn. Let’s see… you will not attend the flying display. You can perform a month of detentions, assigned by your roommate. And you will report to the gym mistress this evening, after dinner.”

Emily would have gotten away with it, Nanette thought, sullenly. The punishments would have rankled, if she’d cared about them. She’d have put forward better excuses too.

“Yes, My Lady,” she said, as snidely as she could. It would definitely irritate the older woman. “I…”

“You can report to the gym mistress now, if you like,” Lady Damia said. It was an order and there was no point in trying to deny it. “And you can spend the next few months mentoring this girl. You might have something useful to teach her.”

Nanette gritted her teeth. She wasn’t sure why she’d intervened. She’d seen worse things in her life. And now… she didn’t need another complication. Time spent with Lillian was time she couldn’t spend planning her heist. She had a nasty feeling the tutors would be watching the mentorship closely. They had to be concerned about what a bratty princess might be teaching her charge.

She opened her mouth to say something that would probably get her in more trouble, then closed it before she could say a word. Emily made friends, friends who helped her when she needed it. Nanette knew she lacked the talent — Penny wouldn’t be anything like as friendly if Nanette hadn’t been manipulating her magically — but… who knew? Perhaps she could turn the whole affair to her advantage. It always worked out for Emily.

“Yes, My Lady,” Nanette said.

Lady Damia let go of her ear. “Go.”

“Thank you.” Lillian was staring at her, worshipfully. “I… thank you.”

Nanette felt… she wasn’t sure how she felt. She’d broken the rules. She’d done something that, in the long run, might have done a great deal of harm. A younger student couldn’t get into the habit of looking to an older one for protection, or she’d be helpless and alone when that student graduated. And yet, the way Lillian was looking at her gave birth to a funny feeling in her stomach. She’d done something good. It felt wonderful.

And you can’t let yourself get too close to anyone, she thought, as Lady Damia started to lecture the younger girls. It looked like they were in trouble too. You’re not going to be here much longer.

She forced herself to wander down to the gym mistress’s office, dawdling as much as she dared. Mountaintop had taught her to take her punishments stoically, but Nadine had never been punished in her entire life. No one had so much as said no to her… Nanette felt a flicker of cold contempt, tinged with amusement. The goldfish girl was in for a shock when she married and found herself subordinate to a husband. She’d move from being her father’s property to her husband’s.

Unless she masters enough magic to protect herself, Nanette thought. And that won’t be easy if she doesn’t buckle down and work at it.

She felt her heart start to race as she reached the office and peered inside. The gym mistress was sitting at her desk, talking to a pair of younger girls who looked like mice caught by a cat’s steady gaze. She was insanely muscular, so muscular Nanette was tempted to believe the whispered rumour the teacher really was a man. But she had no visible Adam’s apple in her throat, nothing to suggest she was anything but female. It was just another cruel lie dreamt up by girls who had no other way to fight back.

Mistress Greenstone looked up. “Yes?”

Nanette tried hard to sound scared. “Lady Damia sent me here…”

“Then stand in the corner and wait.” Mistress Greenstone turned back to the other girls, as if Nanette was not worthy of her time. “I’ll deal with you in a minute.”

Your guests will make sure everyone knows what happened, Nanette thought, as she did as she was told. And everyone will be making fun of me afterwards.

She put the thought aside. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was fitting in long enough to devise a plan, put it into action and vanish before something went wrong. She couldn’t afford to delay. The longer she waited, the greater the chance of something going wrong. If the staff realised she was an imposter, they’d grab her even if they didn’t know who she was or why she was there. She doubted she could talk her way out of trouble.

“I’ll see you both later,” Mistress Greenstone said. “Dismissed.”

Nanette tensed as the two girls left the room. Their pitying looks boded ill. This was not going to be fun.

Just pretend it hurts worse than it does, Nanette told herself, as the gym mistress picked up a cane and ordered her to bend over. It would be easy, she thought. And believable. Let her think she’s really hurting you.