The Right Side of History (Schooled In Magic Book 22), Christopher Nuttall [books to read romance TXT] 📗

others shouted in outrage... she heard the baying of the mob outside as it called for the heads of royalist scum. She would have smiled if she could. There were no royalists in the building. Probably. But the mob wouldn’t give a damn. It just wanted blood.

She wanted to release the spell the moment the loft was empty, but she didn’t dare. The entire building was being searched. The rebels might not think to sweep for magic... did they know they’d missed a couple of people? She wondered if the others had managed to get away. They’d probably try to get out through the sewers, if there were sewers. She hadn’t seen anything during the escape that looked like water pipes. The people who lived in the building might not have running water. Somehow, she doubted the king and the city fathers had wasted much time renovating the district. It was practically a slum.

Her thoughts ran in circles. Someone betrayed us. But who?

There was no answer. She was loath to think Aiden had betrayed them. She had too much to hide. And yet... Emily wanted to shake her head. She’d never really understood why some people chose to turn traitor. Perhaps Aiden wasn’t the moderate she’d claimed. Perhaps...

It was hard, very hard, to keep track of time. Every second felt like an hour. Emily tried not to panic, tried not to think she might have kept the spell in place so long they’d effectively hopped days or weeks forward in time, but it wasn’t easy. She ran through everything she’d tried to convince the rebels to come to the bargaining table; she ran through everything she’d seen and done at Laughter before she’d found herself under arrest. Master Lucknow had come out ahead, she reflected sourly. He might not have managed to convict her of anything, but he’d certainly managed to damage her reputation. She would probably be blamed for the coming bloodbath.

Her awareness started to blur, as if she was on the verge of falling asleep. Panic shot through her as she realized she might be losing everything, that she might remain a stone until the spell finally failed or someone tracked her down. She released the spell despite the risk, her body slowly returning to normal. The world spun around her as she uncurled, a disturbing sensation she could never put into words pervading her mind. Was she a woman who’d made herself a stone? Or was she a stone that had made itself a woman?

She pressed one hand against her forehead and listened, carefully. The building was as silent as the grave. She glanced at the slats, noting the absence of daylight. The intruders hadn’t bothered to replace the hatches they’d smashed open. They’d probably gotten in each other’s way as they crashed through the building... she shook her head. It didn’t matter. The moderates were going to go deep underground after this, if any of them had survived. Emily didn’t blame them.

Aiden lay where she’d fallen. Emily picked up the stone, carried her to a safer part of the loft and released the spell. Aiden appeared in front of her, curled into a ball. Emily felt another pang of guilt. The spell had been imposed on her, ensuring she wouldn’t lose herself completely, but the experience would have been thoroughly unpleasant. Aiden looked, just for a moment, if she didn’t want to uncurl. Emily understood, but she had a feeling they didn’t have time. She glanced at the ruined hatches and frowned. The sky was starting to lighten.

“We have to move,” she said, quietly. “Come on.”

She helped Aiden to her feet, then levitated both of them through the hatch and onto the roof. The streets below were empty, save for a handful of patrolling soldiers marching up and down. Emily doubted it was a good sign. The rebels had arrested everyone in the building, marched them off and... and what? She wondered, as she wrapped a pair of invisibility spells around them, why they hadn’t burnt the entire apartment to the ground. The fire might have spread completely out of control...

“I can get us back to the house,” she said, softly. “Or do you want to go somewhere else?”

“The house is being watched,” Aiden reminded her. She looked dazed, confused. “They’ll wonder how you got home without being noticed.”

Emily grimaced. “Where do we go?”

“Can you get us down to the alley?” Aiden sounded a little more composed. “I think I know where to go.”

“Yes,” Emily said. “Just be very quiet. The spells won’t keep us hidden if we catch their attention.”

She modified the charms, then floated them down to the ground. The streets felt eerily quiet, despite the marching guards. Aiden led her through a maze of alleyways, making sure to stay off the main streets. They passed a handful of homeless encampments, all apparently deserted, before stopping in front of another apartment block. Aiden glanced both ways, checking to make sure they were unobserved, then pushed the door open and led the way inside. It was considerably more luxurious than the previous apartment, Emily noted. The corridors were clean and tidy, lit by glowing lanterns. Aiden led her up the stairs and through a warded door. Emily tensed, unsure what to expect, but there was nothing beyond a simple sitting room.

“Welcome to my home,” Aiden said, as she lit a lantern. “What do you think?”

Emily glanced around. The room was surprisingly bare. There was a desk, a pair of wooden chairs, a tiny bookshelf and little else. The desk was covered in papers, parchments and various writing tools. She glanced through a door and saw an oversized mattress lying on the floor. The windows beyond were protected by solid iron bars.

“Nice,” Emily said. She’d been in worse places. “Do your... friends... know about this place?”

“No.” Aiden hesitated. “I don’t think so. I started to rent it after I established myself as a reporter... Jair knows about it, but no one else.”

“Unless someone shadowed you here,”