Chapter 6

“You little…” Juliet staggered, just for a second, as she saw the betting slips in my hand. “Give them to me, you…”

“You cheat,” I said. It was hard to lace my voice with the amount of contempt she deserved, but I tried. “You bet against your own team!”

Juliet’s face flickered through an incomprehensible series of emotions. She was shocked and guilty and determined and… she stepped forward, closing the door behind her. I felt powerful privacy wards — too powerful — snap into place. I cursed my own mistake as she loomed over me, her magic billowing on the air. She was far too powerful for me to take in a duel and… I kicked myself, mentally, for not trying to flee the moment I’d realised what she’d been doing. Now, I was practically at her mercy. I had no doubt she was planning one final gamble before her house of cards came crashing down.

“You read my mail,” Juliet said. “Do you think anyone will pay attention to whatever you have to say?”

I couldn’t help myself. I snickered. “After they look at the betting slips, how much attention do you think they’ll pay to you?”

Juliet reddened. “You don’t understand.”

“I think I do.” I tried to look down my nose at her. It wasn’t easy — she was taller than me — but the flash of anger that crossed her face suggested she’d taken the point. “You plan your games carefully, leaving windows of opportunity for the other team to score. You micromanage your team to ensure their opportunities are few and far between. You boss them around to make sure they don’t even think of taking an unplanned shot. You rig the game against them and then you bet on the outcome, an outcome you have already predetermined. Right?”

“It seems an absurd story,” Juliet said. “Have you ever heard of a Captain-General who played to lose?”

I felt another piece of the puzzle fall into place. “It does seem absurd, until you look at the betting pattern and the games,” I said. “That’s why you were so angry about my report! I didn’t understand, not until now. Anyone reading a detailed report of the last few games might see a pattern, a pattern carefully prepared by the planner. By you! And you couldn’t risk firing me for obeying your orders because someone might take a close look at my analysis and see the pattern. I should have seen it sooner.”

Juliet made a gesture in my direction. Her magic surged. I tried to duck, too late. My hands snapped behind my back and clasped each other tightly, tightly enough to hurt. My feet were suddenly stuck to the floor. I tried to muster a counterspell, only to have it shatter harmlessly against her power. She smirked at me as I tried again, to no avail. I’d duelled my peers — and lost more than I’d won — but Juliet was an order of magnitude more powerful than any of them. I was completely at her mercy.

Her voice became honeyed, dripping with magic. “How many people have you told?”

I fought — gods, I fought — but her compulsion spell was just too strong. My treacherous lips opened, no matter how much I tried to tell them to stay closed.

“No one.”

Juliet smirked. I felt a rush of shame and humiliation. She had me in her power, and she knew it. She could make me say or do or believe anything… I cursed myself for not thinking ahead, for not taking precautions to jog my memory if someone wiped it. Dad would have known better. He was very good at reflecting on his thoughts, noting the discrepancies and working through the memories to work out what he’d been made to forget. I was nowhere near as capable and I knew it. As long as Juliet was careful, I would never know I’d left her room with a slice gapped out of my memory. And if I had no reason to question the cover story…

“No one,” Juliet repeated. “How… unfortunate.”

Something clicked in my mind. I forced myself to speak. “You’re not as wealthy as they say, are you?”

Juliet’s eyes flashed murder. “My family is rich!”

“Yes, but you’re not,” I said. Thomas had called Juliet out for not paying for the drinks. It was possible she’d tried to hide her involvement — alcohol and magicians didn’t mix — but he’d have been a little more understanding if that was all it was. It made a great deal more sense to think she might be nowhere near as personally rich as she claimed. Sure, most aristos gave their children enough pocket money to buy a castle or two, but not all. “I think you wouldn’t have taken the risk if you weren’t desperate for money.”

“Shows how much you know,” Juliet said. “Idiot.”

“I’m the idiot?” I giggled. I couldn’t help it. “You’re betting against your own team! How will you make it to be the big leagues if your team keeps losing?”

Juliet smirked. I hoped that meant she wanted to gloat. Dad had told me most people were terrible at keeping secrets because they wanted to impress their peers, which meant sharing the secret or — at the very least — the fact they had a secret. And yet, Juliet had had to keep her mouth shut if she didn’t want to face a weighty helping of justice for her misdeeds. She could gloat to me, before she made damn sure I forgot everything. If I kept pressing…

“I’m the Captain-General, as well as a team captain,” Juliet said, sardonically. “It doesn’t matter, not to the leagues, if my team wins or loses. What matters is how I perform as Captain-General, and my record is unmatched.”

“Only because there wasn’t a Captain-General of Whitehall until Grandmaster Gordian took control,” I jibed. I had no idea how the matter had been handled under the last Grandmaster, but as we hadn’t been playing in the leagues it probably hadn’t mattered. “You’re the best and the worst in living memory.”

Juliet ignored my sally. “My performance as Captain-General will make my reputation,” she said, curtly. “The spotters will spot me — I’ve made sure of it — and recruit me when I graduate and head into the leagues. And I’ll have the chance to recruit new players from Whitehall.”

“Really?” I raised my eyebrows. “And you think you’ll have free reign?”

“Remind me,” Juliet said, dryly. “Who was — who is — Captain-General of Whitehall?”

She went on before I could answer. “Who has the greatest insights into the players here? Me. Who knows their strengths and weaknesses and knows how to place them in context? Me. Who has the inside track on knowing what offers could be made to them, to recruit them to my new team? Me.”

“I suppose you know what you’re doing,” I conceded. It might have made sense. I didn’t know enough about the leagues to guess one way or the other. “But you are still running a terrible risk. What happens when you get caught?”

“I won’t,” Juliet said. “You got very lucky. That won’t happen again.”

“And when someone does what I did and works through the game records, noticing the pattern?” I met her eyes. “Or when your accomplice gets tired of being your cat’s paw and confesses all?”

Juliet shrugged. “A first-year commoner barely old enough to bleed? Who’d listen to her?”

“I would,” I said. It really was astonishing how many aristos had gotten into trouble through ignoring the servants. “And so might the Grandmaster.”

I met her eyes. “If he figures out what you’ve done, you’ll be for the high jump.”

Juliet laughed. “Do you really think the Grandmaster will listen to such accusations against one of his favoured students?”

“He’ll have to make a show of investigating the claims,” I countered. “And when he works out the pattern…”

“He’ll cover it up,” Juliet said. “It will go no further.”

I stared at her. Juliet’s family might be important, but they weren’t that important. I didn’t know any student who had the clout to convince the staff to look the other way, except perhaps Lady Emily, and she’d left school last year. There was no way in hell the staff could afford to overlook the charges, even if they were made up of whole cloth. They’d have to investigate. Juliet — and her accomplice — would be interrogated under truth spells, questioned ruthlessly until they spilled their guts. They’d have no recourse. They wouldn’t even get an apology if it turned out they were innocent all along.

“Impossible,” I said. “He won’t cover anything up for you.”

Juliet gave me a pitying look. “The Grandmaster wants Whitehall to return to the league tables,” she said, snidely. “If there is a major cheating scandal in the very first year, we’ll be kicked back out of the league before we’ve even fully returned. There are so many people with a vested interest in keeping usout of the league that even a hint of scandal will be enough to turn them against us. The Grandmaster will cover up the whole affair to make sure nothing, not even a single word, leaks out to our enemies.”

My heart sank. Juliet might be right. The Grandmaster had a very good reason — more than one, really — to cover up the story as much as possible. If he caught Juliet… he might just settle for quietly expelling her, or even coming up with a cover story to explain her departure from the field rather than confessing the truth. It wouldn’t be that hard to fake an injury or simply tell the world — with the deepest regret, naturally — that she hadn’t kept up with her schoolwork. I’d been told players who failed to keep their grades up were offered a flat choice between shaping up — and quickly — or being banned from playing. The cover story would be believable…

I glared. “Perhaps he’ll turn you into a toad and dump you in the pond for the rest of your life,” I snarled. It was hard to believe the old man would just let Juliet walk away with her earnings and reputation intact. “Or something…”

Juliet gave me a serene smile. “And if I vanished when I was supposed to be at school, don’t you think questions would be asked?”

“Point,” I conceded.

“You won’t remember any of this,” Juliet said, raising her hand. “And now…”

“Wait!” I did my best to act frantic. Truthfully, it wasn’t really an act. “We can make a deal…”

“I wouldn’t trust you, even if you took an oath,” Juliet said. “I caught you spying on me and peeking at my letters, didn’t I?”

“And you’re such a paragon of trustworthiness,” I sneered, bitterly. She’d remember the jibe, even if I didn’t. “Cheating to win is one thing but cheating to lose is quite… despicable.”

Juliet reddened. “You little…”

I pressed forward. “Are you sure you can even hide my memories forever? Aniseed knows where I am. Your fellow captains know where I am. Your accomplice knows where I am… are you sure she isn’t going to say something to me, in perfect innocence, that will jog my memory? Are you…”

“Be quiet,” Juliet snapped. “Who knows you’re here?”

My mouth spoke of its own accord. “You. Aniseed. Blair. Thomas. Your ally…”

I bit down hard. I’d thought I’d bested the truth spell. Clearly, enough of it lingered to make it impossible to lie directly. Juliet glowered at me, then turned and started to pace the room, clearly lost in thought. I hoped she didn’t hurt herself thinking so hard. It wasn’t going to be easy to make sure everyone kept their mouth shut. Blair was just the sort of person to harass me over my time as a maid, which would certainly jog my memory if I didn’t remember it myself. And Juliet couldn’t wipe his memory… I wondered, idly, what she’d have to offer to get him to keep his mouth shut. If she asked him, he’d know something wasn’t quite right.

He might not give a damn about me, I reflected, but the chance to have Juliet in his debt isn’t one he’ll pass up easily.

I studied Juliet’s back as she paced. It made a very tempting target. If I’d been able to move, I would have bashed her over the head and run for it. I might not have been able to knock her out — she was strong, and there was no point in denying it — but it might have stunned her long enough for me to escape.

The clock chimed. The match was about to begin.

“I’ll be back,” Juliet snapped. “Don’t you move.”

I wanted to scream as she scooped up her bag and hurried out the room, closing the door behind her. Whatever spell she’d used on me was strong. I couldn’t dispel it. I was fairly sure shouting for help would be pointless. The privacy wards on the room would make sure they never reached friendly ears. There were emergency spells, but I couldn’t cast them. My heart sank further — I would have thought it impossible — as it dawned on me Juliet might just get away with it after all. She would speak to Blair and Thomas, probably offering them a favour to be redeemed later in exchange for their silence, then intimidate her accomplice or simply wipe her memory too. Aniseed… I liked to think my roommate would be a tougher nut to crack, but Juliet probably wouldn’t have any trouble wiping her memories, either. And then… all she had to do was make sure our memories matched, and she’d be home free.

There has to be a way out, I told myself. It was hard to move my fingers to cast spells and I’d never been that good at fingerless casting. The counterspells should have dissolved the spell holding me still, but it remained firmly in place. There has to be…

My thoughts ran in circles. Gods, I hoped Blair and Thomas demanded something thoroughly disgusting in return for their silence. It might be the only justice Juliet would ever face for her crimes. The Grandmaster might cover them up … she certainly thought he would or she’d never have taken the risk. I glared at the wall, as if I could see through it to the arena and the players taking their places on the field. Juliet had gone on and on about the league sending its finest spotters to the match, to watch as she showcased her skills… my heart burned in frustration when I realised she might get away with it after all. The game might be rigged… even if it wasn’t, I knew past games had been.

I suppose it is proof she’s good at her job, I thought, bitterly. She’d had a stroke of bad luck — her accomplice shouldn’t have given me the betting slips— but she’d recovered nicely before returning to the game. And as long as she’s careful, she’ll get away with it…

My hands shook as I tried to break free. My father was going to be very disappointed in me… no he wasn’t, because as long as Juliet was careful he’d never find out. I hoped he’d ask enough probing questions, when I went home for the holidays, to break the memory spell… would he? My father wasn’t one of the aristos who considered his daughters nothing more than pawns on his personal gameboard, or — worse — one of the ones who thought his children were extensions of himself. Dad trusted me to be smart — and to come to him if I got into something I couldn’t handle. I felt a wave of frustration. For once, I wanted him to be a little more controlling, a little more inclined to demand to know everything I’d done since we parted. If he asked the right questions…

Think, I told myself. There’s always a way out.

I pushed my despair aside and forced myself to think. I couldn’t break the spell directly. It was cast by a stronger magician, who had every reason to keep me trapped until she could wipe my mind. But if I could push it aside… an idea crossed my mind, and I performed a simple summoning charm, drawing a piece of chat parchment to my hands. It wasn’t easy to press it against my bare skin — my hands were clenched so hard I knew I was going to be aching for days afterwards — but I made it. The charms on the parchment were strikingly simple. I’d cast them myself, when we’d been experimenting with a self-updating broadsheet. If I could use them to wriggle through the charm holding me in place…

The spell broke. I collapsed in a heap, my muscles cramping violently. More proof, if I’d needed it, that Juliet was a sadist. It would have been kinder to simply freeze me completely until she returned. Safer, too. If she didn’t account for the cramps somehow, I’d start wondering why I’d cramped, and the entire memory spell would start to unravel. It was hard, so hard, to pick myself off the floor and stagger to my feet. I had to hurry. If I was still in her room when she returned, I’d leave with a slice gapped out of my memory.

My heart sank. If she was right — if the Grandmaster really would cover up the whole affair — I might end up losing my memory anyway. Anger flowed through me, followed by grim resolution. There couldn’t be a cover-up if the truth was already out, could there? If I took a leaf from Juliet’s book and gambled, if I made sure they learnt the truth in a manner they couldn’t ignore…

This is either a crazy idea or a brilliant one, I thought, as I slipped through the door. And I’m about to find out which it is.

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