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

happened, from the trial to the battery-powered assault and her search for the enemy magician. He’d come very close to assassinating the council as well as the queen, ensuring the rebels were leaderless when the royalists attacked the city. The thought nagged at Emily’s mind, mocking her. How had the assassin known when to strike? If she hadn’t been there...

Perhaps the goal was to force me to take sides, she thought. And then... and then what?

“They’ll pay for this,” Hedrick said. “They’ll pay in blood and suffering.”

Emily met his eyes. “Do you want to leave the city?”

“No.” Hedrick let go of his sword and rested his hands on the table. “I need to stay here.”

“They’ll come for you,” Emily warned. The rebels had said as much. “They might not even bother to revoke your safe conduct first.”

“I have you to protect me.” Hedrick gave her a lazy smile. “Don’t I?”

Emily felt her blood boil. She’d met far too many people who were far too impressed with themselves, but... most of them had some reason to be impressed. Cat had been given to boastfulness - it had been his least attractive attribute - yet he was a trained sorcerer, a brave warrior and generally a decent person. Prince Hedrick... seemed to think he was entitled to her protection. She bit down hard on her temper. She didn’t have time to worry about it.

“Your brother might start bombarding the city at any moment,” she said. She didn’t know how many siege weapons the royalists had, from catapults to heavy guns, but she was fairly sure they’d have some. Dater would have stripped every arsenal within reach to build up his forces. “And a single lucky shot could blow this building into a pile of rubble.”

She turned and strode out of the room before the prince could muster a reply, striding up the stairs and into her bedroom. Silent was filling the tub with water. Emily was too tired to feel guilty, or anything - really - beyond a desperate need to cleanse herself. She dismissed the maid, heated the water with a spell and undressed rapidly. She wanted to lower herself into the tub and close her eyes, but she didn’t have time. Instead, she washed herself as rapidly as possible, dried herself with a spell and changed into fresh clothes. Silent was going to have problems cleaning the old dress. It was covered in blood and ash.

Perhaps we can just throw it out, Emily thought, although she knew the maid wouldn’t do anything of the sort. It would be a long time before anyone started producing cheap and disposable clothes. Or send it back home for a more thorough cleaning.

She cleared her mind as she walked back into the bedroom and opened her bag. The chat parchments were where she’d left them, buried under a pile of tools and supplies. She searched through them for the one linked to Lady Barb, placed it on the table and started to sketch out a brief outline of everything that had happened. If Master Lucknow had supplied the batteries... her thoughts churned as she considered the possibilities. His oaths should have prevented him from doing any such thing, but it was quite easy to rationalize one’s way around an oath. Master Lucknow believed she was a menace to the Allied Lands. He could easily justify supplying the batteries as a way of disposing of the menace. Emily wouldn’t have cared to try it, but Master Lucknow might have different ideas.

The outline glowed, then vanished. Emily waited, hoping for a reply. Lady Barb would be very busy, perhaps too busy to pay attention to the parchments. She picked up a second parchment and wrote a note for Void, silently grateful he hadn’t ordered her out. He was at Whitehall too, she recalled. She was surprised he hadn’t told her to go back to the tower and wait. Perhaps he’d expected her to turn up something...

She felt her heart twist as it struck her. The queen was dead, murdered. There was no way to avoid war now, no matter what she did. She’d failed. She could find the murderer and present him to the White Council and... it wouldn’t matter. She heard guns booming in the distance and shuddered. King Dater was probably trying to soften up the defenses, readying his troops to rush the walls. Whoever won, it would be a bloodbath. And there was nothing she could do.

Nothing that wouldn’t make things worse, she thought, as she felt someone pressing against the wards. A second later, she heard someone knock on the door. Even if I find the magician...

She walked down the stairs, just in time to see Silent showing Aiden into the house. The councilor looked grim, clothes stained with blood and sweat. Emily gritted her teeth as she walked into the living room, beckoning Aiden to follow. She’d done what she could for the wounded, but it hadn’t been enough. How could it? They’d be scarred for the rest of their lives.

“Lady Emily,” Aiden said. Silent bought them both mugs of bark tea, then withdrew as silently as she’d come. “I’m afraid I have bad news.”

Emily almost laughed. “I think I’ve had enough bad news for the last month or so,” she said, ruefully. She understood, now, why so many monarchs were so ready to kill their messengers. King Randor’s loathing of his messenger boys had been legendary. “What’s your bad news?”

Aiden frowned. “The council has formally voted to remove your safe conduct, yours and Prince Hedrick’s. You have until midnight to leave the city, with or without the prince, or face revolutionary justice.”

“I see.” Emily rubbed her forehead. It was hard not to take it personally. Someone in the council had put a knife in her back. Someone... she frowned. It was odd they’d chosen to order her out. Perhaps they’d decided she was too much of a liability to keep around. A thought struck her and she smiled. “They didn’t