“Don’t forget, Miles helped too.” Lady Barb winked, mischievously. “You owe him a thank you too.”
“I will,” Emily promised. Lady Barb and Sergeant Miles had driven her mercilessly. She sometimes thought she’d learnt more practical magic over the last couple of months than she’d mastered in the last five years. It made her wonder just how far she would have progressed if she’d hired private tutors during the summer holidays. “Do I get to rest now?”
“Not quite,” Lady Barb said. “As you’re staying for Sixth Year, the Grandmaster wishes a word with you.”
Emily frowned. “Now?”
“Soon,” Lady Barb said. “I advise you to go now, then ... then you can decide if you want to go back to Dragon’s Den or stay here.”
“Oh,” Emily said. She’d always had the impression that Grandmaster Gordian didn’t like her. He’d certainly tried to make it clear he hadn’t wanted her to return to Whitehall after Grandmaster Hasdrubal’s death. Their relationship was frostily polite. “Did he say what he wants to talk about?”
“No,” Lady Barb said. “It might be nothing more than a formal acceptance to Sixth Year.”
She glanced at the clock. “If you go now, I’ll be in the Armory until dinnertime. I’ll see you there.”
Emily turned and walked back to the table, picking up the bracelet and slipping it over her wrist. Gordian wanted to see her ... why? To ask her to—finally—take the oaths? She couldn’t still be on probation, could she? Or to ... suggest ... that she left the school and went elsewhere? Or ... she sighed, inwardly. Unannounced meetings—in her experience—were always bad news.
“I’ll meet you afterwards.” Emily brushed her hair back as she headed for the door. “And have fun with Sergeant Miles.”
Lady Barb snorted. “Mind your mouth,” she said, warningly. “I can still beat you for cheek.”
Emily concealed her amusement as she walked into the corridor and headed towards the stairs. Whitehall hummed around her, the wards welcoming her home. She could feel the complex network of spellwork that made up the wards growing stronger and stronger as charm masters and wardcrafters struggled to prepare the school for the next intake of students. There was so much spellwork running through the system that even she had trouble working out what had evolved over the years and what was new. It was the most complex set of wards in the Allied Lands.
Heart’s Eye will grow to match it, one day, she thought. She had plans for Heart’s Eye. A university, for starters. Caleb and she had talked about a lot of possibilities, back when they’d been lovers. She intended to go ahead anyway, with or without him. And who knows what will happen then?
She passed a handful of younger students chatting at the bottom of the stairs—they’d retaken their own exams over the last few days—and walked up, nodding politely to Master Kay as he walked down. He nodded back, clearly distracted with a greater thought. Emily smiled to herself as she reached the top of the stairs and walked along to the Grandmaster’s office. A middle-aged couple was just coming out, looking annoyed. Emily stood to one side to allow them to pass, then stepped into the antechamber. Madame Griselda, Gordian’s secretary, was sitting behind her desk, writing something on a newfangled typewriter. Emily couldn’t help wondering if it had come out of Cockatrice or Beneficence.
“Emily,” Madame Griselda said, flatly. She was a stern-faced older woman with a gimlet stare. Emily had heard she’d once turned an imprudent student into a toad and eaten him, although she was fairly sure that was just another unfounded rumor. “Wait here. The Grandmaster will see you shortly.”
Emily nodded and sat down, resting her hands on her lap. Madame Griselda’s office was bare, save for a bookshelf, a heavily-warded wooden cupboard and a large painting of Whitehall that someone had hung on the far wall. A handful of faces at the bottom were marked as Lord Whitehall and company, but none of them looked anything like the people Emily recalled meeting. Lord Whitehall had never been so handsome in his life.
He might have been, in his youth, Emily thought. But they grew old quickly, back then.
The inner door opened. “Emily.” Grandmaster Gordian stood in the doorway, giving her a searching look. “Come in, if you please?”
Emily rose and followed Gordian into his office. It hadn’t changed. The room was bare, save for a large wooden desk and a pair of chairs. A handful of scrolls rested on the desk, but otherwise it was empty. The bookshelves and paintings had been removed, leaving the walls completely barren of anything that might catch the eye. There was nothing to draw her attention away from him, nothing to distract her ...
“Take a seat,” Gordian said.
Emily sat, studying Gordian as he looked at her. He hadn’t changed either, as far as she could tell. He was a tall, powerfully-built man, with long dark hair drawn back in a ponytail. His face seemed somehow ageless, yet lined enough to make it clear he was no longer young; his dark eyes peered at her, as if they could see into her very soul. She could sense the magic humming around him, a grim reminder of his power. Whatever else he was, Gordian was a formidable magician.
His voice was very calm. “Congratulations on passing your exams.”
“Thank you, sir,” Emily said, carefully. She didn’t think Gordian actually wanted to congratulate her. There was ... something ... in his voice. “I look forward to going into Sixth Year.”
Gordian’s lips twitched. “You worked hard.” He didn’t sound pleased about that either. “I have been told that you deserved to pass.”
Emily frowned. Who’d told him that? And why?
“You’ll join the rest of your classmates in a week, when term restarts for you,” Gordian said, curtly. “However, there is something that has to be addressed immediately.”
The oaths, Emily thought, grimly. She’d anticipated a demand that she swear the oaths months ago. In some ways, it had almost slipped her mind. Do you want me to swear them here and now?
“There was a staff meeting yesterday,” Gordian said, sounding vaguely displeased. “My staff saw fit to nominate you for Head Girl.”
Emily blinked. “What?”
“You were elected Head Girl,” Gordian said, patiently. “Do you wish to accept the nomination?”
Chapter Two
EMILY STARED AT GORDIAN IN SHOCK.
“They nominated me for Head Girl?”
“You were the prime candidate by a considerable margin,” Gordian informed her. He seemed to be enjoying her surprise. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Emily managed. She tried to force herself to think. She’d known there would be a new Head Pupil, of course, but she’d never imagined she would be in the running. She doubted Gordian had put her name forward. Technically, she was still on probation. Who had voted for her? And why? “Who ... who nominated me?”