A Little Knowledge

A Little Knowledge

The first time I met Rolf, I turned him into a frog. It would have been better if I’d left him that way.

That sounds bad, doesn’t it? Let me back up a little.

Laughter Academy, my alma mater, is an all-girls school. One boy studied there, and it ended so badly the tutors swore they’d never do it again. It was a rule that no boy was allowed to enter our territory without permission, or stay overnight; male tutors, the handful willing to work at Laughter, were rarely granted any kind of authority. And it was a tradition, for reasons lost in the mists of time, that any man discovered on school grounds without permission got hexed and kicked away. The younger girls, like myself, were charged with enforcing the rule.

It was also tradition — I suspect it had something to do with the need to test and update our defences — for the young men of Pendle, the town below the school, to try to sneak up to our walls. They were told that, if they managed to touch the walls surrounding the inner keep, that they’d be granted one favour from the witches they could call in whenever they liked. It was rare, almost unknown, for a young man to even get within a few metres of the walls. We — the junior girls — patrolled regularly and there was a contest to see who could catch the most intruders, as well as threatened punishments for anyone who accidentally let an intruder slip past them. It was all in good fun, you see; trying to sneak up to the school had become a rite of passage for the young men below. There were even a handful of romances that started when the boy tried to sneak though the lines.

And so I was on duty when I heard someone walking through the forest.

He wasn’t trying to be sneaky, something that I should have noticed earlier. He was making no attempt to hide, or to keep the racket down… I wondered, despite centuries of tradition, if it was one of the senior girls or the tutors out for a stroll. I readied the spell — a very simple transfiguration hex, one that would wear off within the hour if it wasn’t lifted ahead of time — and waited. The bushes parted, revealing a young man roughly the same age as myself.

I cast the spell. His mouth opened, as if he wanted to say something, then melted away as he morphed into a frog. He croaked loudly, and angrily, as I picked him up and checked the spells, then threw him down the mountainside. It would be an uncomfortable and bumpy ride — the magic currents surrounding the peaks would carry him right to the bottom — but there was no real danger. The spell I’d used was designed to make it hard, if not impossible, for him to get hurt. I just hoped he had the sense not to hide somewhere too small for a grown man. That had happened once and we’d had to turn the idiot back into a frog just to get him out.

A week later, I saw him again.

I blinked in surprise — it was rare to see the same boy twice within a month or two; some never tried again, despite the jeers of their peers — and froze him on the spot, then levitated him into the air and down the mountainside. This time, I was sure, he’d get the message. It was actually worse to be frozen than transfigured into an animal, or an object that couldn’t move at all. It felt fundamentally, brutally, wrong.

And a week later, he appeared again.

“Wait,” he said, frantically. “I want to talk to you!”

I studied him, keeping a spell ready just in case. He looked… rough, his skin marred with pockmarks and his clothes clearly passed down from someone a little bigger than himself. There was a hint of desperation in his eyes… it was puzzling. Did he have a crush on me? It made no sense. He could have struck up a conversation in town, rather than try to sneak up the mountain… unless he was crushing on someone else. And that made even less sense.

“Really?” It was hard to believe. “Who are you and what do you want?”

He met my eyes, pleadingly. “I’m Rolf. And I want you to teach me magic.”

I blinked. “What?”

It was absurd. Magic ran strong in Pendle, but male magicians inevitably went to Mountaintop or Whitehall, if they weren’t apprenticed to a magical craftsman in the town itself. The idea of a boy studying at Laughter… I shook my head. It wasn’t going to happen. If I suggested it to the Old Woman, I’d be the one turned into a toad. And yet…

“Why?” I stared back at him. “Why me?”

“I wasn’t allowed to go to school,” Rolf said. “It was…”

“There are scholarships,” I pointed out. I’d won one myself. “Or even indentures…”

“Madam Silverknows refused to let me go,” Rolf said. “I’m her indentured servant.”

I winced in sympathy. There was an orphanage in the nearest town with a nasty habit of farming out its children to homes and families prepared to feed them in exchange for service. Some of the orphans became part of the family and wound up being adopted, others were beaten, abused and forced to work for a pittance. Madam Silverknows was a witch with a capital B — all the more ironic as she had no magic of her own — and she was a skinflint with a fair claim to being the worst person in town. I couldn’t imagine her paying for her servant to study magic. She was the type of person who’d sooner wear rags than waste money on a new dress.

“I was tested and I have magic,” Rolf told me. “But she wouldn’t let me go.”

“Of course not,” I said, sourly. I didn’t like Madam Silverknows. I didn’t know anyone who did. “She wouldn’t want you to come back with blood in your eye.”

It was hard not to feel sorry for him. I’d grown up in a poor family, even though my parents were kind and gentle, and I wouldn’t have been able to attend the school if I hadn’t won the scholarship. I wouldn’t have found someone willing to take me as an apprentice either, not unless the terms were truly one-sided. Why would they want an untrained girl when they could come to an agreement with a grown woman? I’d be worried about anyone who did.

My mind churned. I’d never been told not to teach others magic. The tutors expected us to work together, with the more advanced students helping those lagging behind… hell, the senior girls were expected to mentor the juniors. I still thought highly of the girl who’d talked me through my first spells, then my first period, and showed me how to use charms to prevent both cramps and conception. I had a duty to help and… I felt sorry for him. Madam Silverknows wasn’t someone I’d wish on my worst enemy. If she’d had magic, no one would have been safe.

“I can try,” I said, reluctantly. I did have something of a grudge against his mistress. “But you will have to be very careful.”

“I will,” Rolf promised. “When do we begin?”

We met up the following weekend, right at the edge of town, and walked into the forest. The townspeople rarely went too far from the roads, but the witches — me included — had explored it thoroughly. There was an old quarry nearby, with a handful of disused stone huts that had once housed miners — or so we thought. I’d spent a few hours digging through the historical records, just out of curiosity, and found nothing. The records had been destroyed, hidden or simply never existed at all.

“We can practice here,” I said, as I led the way into the nearest hut. It was bare and barren, the stone floor eroded so badly there were no traces of the long-gone furniture, but it would do. “Sit down.”

I knelt facing him, unsure how to proceed. I’d been taught a handful of spells right from the get-go, then drilled in spellwork notation until I could modify the spells at will. Rolf could learn like us, couldn’t he? My pen-pal studied at Whitehall and she’d never mentioned any differences, save for a lack of flying lessons. I thought that was silly. Flying was a skill every girl should master.

“Watch carefully,” I said. I’d looked at my old notes, but it was still hard to cast the spells slowly enough for him to follow my casting. “And see what you make of it.”

I cast the lightspell. A globe of soft yellow light materialised between us. Rolf’s face was thrown into sharp relief as he stared at the globe, a hungry expression on his face that wouldn’t have been out of place on a hunting wolf. I knew what he was feeling. I’d felt it myself. The lightglobe was a very simple spell, but it was power. Mastering the spell was the first step towards becoming a sorceress. Or sorcerer, in his case.

“Now,” I said. “You try.”

Rolf did as he was told. I watched, torn between awe and concern, as a series of lightglobes wobbled into life. They were far from perfect — one was too bright, one looked too dim, one looked like a yolk on the verge of breaking — but it was progress. Rolf kept casting until he sagged, suddenly. I kicked myself for forgetting how drained myself, when I’d first started to study magic, as I dug a ration bar out of my pouch. They tasted like parchment — unfavoured parchment — but they would keep him going until he got something proper to eat.

“So,” he said, as he sat back. The lightglobes blinked out, throwing the hut into shadow. “When are you going to teach me how to turn someone into a frog?”

“When you’re ready,” I said, vaguely. It had taken me weeks to master the spell. “This week, I want you to keep practicing. We’ll try a second spell next weekend.”

Rolf nodded and stood. “You’re a good teacher,” he said. “And thank you.”

I blushed. I’d never understood why some of my tutors enjoyed teaching, not until now.

Rolf was a good student. There was no doubt of that. Frankly, he was better than me. I was almost envious as I watched him learning and practicing his spells. He mastered tricks in days that had taken me weeks, then insisted on learning more. I found myself fighting to catch up at times, studying spells in the library and practicing in the spellchambers just to make sure I stayed one step ahead. It wasn’t easy. If Rolf had been allowed to enter the school, which would never happen, he’d have jumped ahead in leaps and bounds. I was tempted to suggest he applied for a scholarship again, when the summer came around. If he won it fair and square, Madam Silverknows wouldn’t be able to stand in his way.

And yet, there was something nagging at the back of my mind.

I heard a rumour, one day in the library, that someone had been carrying out animal sacrifices near Pendle. It was hard to be sure, of course, because the mountain peaks were suffused with tainted magic, but… the story hung in my mind long after the tutors told the rumourmongers to shut up. I paid little attention. Rolf was advancing in leaps and bounds, jumping ahead in ways that fascinated me. I was even starting to think about becoming a teacher myself. He had a way of smiling, when he mastered a new trick, that made my heart melt. I could deny him nothing.

In hindsight, I still don’t know how we got away with it for so long.

It was rare, those days, for me to visit Pendle. The other girls saw it as a place to relax, shop, and flirt with local boys, but for me it was just home. Technically, I wasn’t even supposed to visit my parents, not during term. I was bending the rules by walking into my mother’s shop, even though it was a shop. My mother being there was a complete coincidence. Of course it was. And if you believe that, I have an entire kingdom to sell you.

“You’re looking more grown-up every day,” Mother said, as we hugged. “How are the witches treating you?”

“Fine,” I said. We exchanged polite nothings for a long moment before I came to the meat of the matter. “How is Madam Silverknows treating her servant?”

It was a question that had been plaguing me for some time. Rolf had appeared, every so often, with nasty bruises on his face and cuts on his arms. He said that Madam Silverknows had punished him and then refused to talk about it any further. I’d been shocked. There were limits, there had to be. It was one thing to give a disobedient servant a belting, but quite another to inflict permanent damage.

Mother gave me an odd look. “She has no servant,” she said. “Unless you count her husband…”

I was so shocked by her words that my first thought, I tell you no lie, was sympathy for the wretched woman’s husband. He was a beaten down man who, if rumour was to be believed, secretly hated his wife. Anywhere else, a shrewish wife would be forced to wear a scold’s bridle or simply put in the stocks and flogged, but not in Pendle. The town belonged to the witches and any man who abused his wife would be lucky if he was just turned into a pig.

And then it hit me. “She has no servant?”

“No,” Mother said. “Are you alright?”

My world crumbled. Rolf had lied to me. He had. I would have understood him being reluctant to talk about his home, but… he’d lied! And… he’d told me a lot of things, between spellcasting sessions. How many of them were lies? I felt a surge of sudden anger so great my magic flared, the entire shop vibrating as I lost control. Mother stepped back hastily, fear in her eyes. She had no magic of her own. She might be a woman, but she was still at the mercy of the witches. Witches like me.

I turned and fled, running as though the creatures of the darkness were coming after me. I had to find Rolf. I did… my heart churned, admitting I’d been seduced, that I’d fallen in love with him even though we’d never kissed. He’d not even hinted he wanted to kiss, let alone do anything else… what was he? My imagination spun out of control as I plunged into the forest. What had I done?

In hindsight, I should have gone to the tutors and confessed. But I was too conflicted.

“Rolf,” I screamed, as I plunged into the old quarry. “Rolf!”

He appeared, by the hut. He looked different, somehow. His smile looked crooked, as if it wasn’t quite real. His left hand was hidden behind his back. I felt a wave of conflicting emotions — anger and rage, admiration and respect and even love — as I forced myself to slow down. Perhaps there was an explanation. Perhaps…

“You lied to me,” I snapped. “You’re not Madam Silverknows’s boy at all!”

Rolf brought his hand into the open. It held a makeshift wand. I goggled at it, realising — too late — that I was in very real danger. There was a flash of light…

… And, when I woke up, it was dark.

I took a breath and choked. My mouth tasted foul. It took me a moment to recognise the taste. Durian. I tried to cast a spell, just in case, but nothing happened. I tried to move and discovered I couldn’t. Rolf had tied my hands behind my back. There were old stories about witches who couldn’t use their magic, if their hands were bound. There was actually some truth to them, if the witch didn’t have good control over her magic. If she couldn’t make hand gestures, she couldn’t direct the spell.

“Welcome back,” Rolf said. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

I glared at him. The taste of betrayal was worse than the durian. “Who are you?”

“Rolf,” Rolf said. “I didn’t lie to you about my name.”

“Just everything else,” I snarled. I put the pieces together, one by one. He knew I knew Madam Silverknows. He’d told me he was her servant to make me sorry for him. And if he knew I was from the town, he had to know there was a good chance I’d never realise he’d lied to me. “What else did you tell me? Poor little orphan boy?”

“That’s true.” Rolf shot me a twisted smile. “I killed my parents. I am an orphan.”

“And are you going to ask for clemency, on the grounds you don’t have parents?” I tested my bonds carefully. “What are you doing here?”

“Laughter is a very interesting school,” Rolf said. “There are books inside that I want to read, and people inside I want to meet. But how to get inside? How to learn what I want to learn without someone watching over my shoulder?”

“I don’t understand,” I admitted. “Why…?”

“My father was a scribe,” Rolf said. “Daddy dearest taught me how to read and write. He thought I’d become a scribe too… I wanted to be a magician and he said no, even though I had the talent. He had the money to send me to school and he wouldn’t and so I killed him and his wife and…”

“Your mother,” I said.

I saw it now. Rolf had travelled to Pendle because Laughter was the only school that wouldn’t take him as a pupil. A few weeks of exploring the town — I knew he had a gift for making people like him, even as he eyed their backs for the knife — and he’d know everything he needed to know to seduce me. My mother was fond of talking about her witchy daughter and gossiping about the rest of the town, including Madam Silverknows. And Rolf might even have taken some of her blood. It would be easy to use it to locate me.

“She deserved it,” Rolf said. “She never listened to me.”

I barely heard him. I’d assumed Rolf couldn’t read and write. The New Learning was still in its infancy and, even if he knew how to write Lady Emily’s letters, most spellbooks were written in Old Script. But if he could read them… I remembered the bookshops in town and shuddered. No wonder he’d been leaping ahead. He’d been studying like mad while I’d been in my classes. The cuts and bruises… he’d been experimenting with some really dangerous magics.

My heart sank. “Rolf… they’re going to be looking for me.”

“By the time they find you, it will be too late,” Rolf told me. “And I will have the power.”

Pure horror washed through me. “You’re going to become a necromancer? You’ll go mad!”

Rolf smiled. I saw utter madness in his eyes.

“I worked it out,” he said. “I can use a rite to stabilise the spell and keep the power from driving me insane.”

“You’re already mad.” It was hard to speak clearly. “If you do this…”

“I will,” Rolf said. “And without your magic, how are you going to stop me?”

I gritted my teeth and kept working on the bonds as he turned and hurried out of the hut. He thought I was helpless. He thought I’d grown up using magic all the time, that I was helpless without it. Maybe he’d have been right, if he’d picked on a girl from a magical family. But I’d grown up in a shop, working from the moment I could walk. I was a lot stronger than I looked and used to getting by without magic. His bonds were tight, but not impossible to escape. It took me everything I had to pull my hands free, just as I heard him coming back to the hut. I hastily hid my hands again.

“Are you ready?” Rolf raised a glittering knife. It wasn’t stone… I kept that to myself, trying not to even think about it. If he used a metal blade, he might kill me but the rite wouldn’t work. I hoped. I didn’t know much about it, beyond the basics and horror stories about what happened to the madmen who tried. “Are you…?”

He bent over me. I punched him in the groin. Hard. Rolf staggered — it wasn’t the first time I’d struck a man there — but didn’t fall. Magic sparked around his fingertips as he dropped his knife — I darted to the side, nearly tripping, and yanked up the knife.

Rolf cast a spell — a flash of white-hot light blasted past me — and came at me.

I raised the blade and stabbed him in the throat. Blood cascaded down, spilling over my hands. He opened his mouth to say something but choked on his own blood instead. I watched him fall to the floor, tears in my eyes. He’d really messed me up. I felt as if I’d done the wrong thing.

“Well,” a cool voice said from the doorway. “What happened here?”

I looked up to see the Young Woman, the Deputy Headmistress. My heart sank. The Young Woman was strict… not, I supposed, that anyone would be less than strict once they worked out what I’d done. I was probably going to be expelled. I doubted anything less would suffice.

And now I am waiting to learn my fate.

They made me write this, partly to understand what I was thinking and partly for me to reflect on my mistakes. Rolf was a sociopath, a manipulative liar who spun a tale so artfully tuned to me that it didn’t start to unravel until it was almost too late. They checked on his story for me and discovered a bad egg, a boy who’d been alarming the neighbours well before he came into his magic. They’d suspected he’d killed his parents, yet nothing had been proven. I wondered, at first, why he hadn’t taken his inheritance and used it to pay his way, but it made a certain kind of sense. The red flags wouldn’t be ignored in a magic school. Even a dark wizard would be wary. He’d needed a tutor too naive to realise the danger. He’d found me.

I take full responsibility for my actions, and now I await your judgement.

I ask only that it not be too long before I learn my fate.