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.And he’d offered himself to the blade knowing that it wouldn’t work.She twisted suddenly and locked onto the vial in Shadye’s hands.The Sergeant had sacrificed himself to give her a chance, and she wasn’t going to waste it.There was no point in a direct attack, but if the wards of Whitehall couldn’t keep Shadye from manipulating her mind, his own protections couldn’t break the link between her and her blood.The vial exploded in Shadye’s hands and he howled in pain, almost as if her blood had turned to acid.It took her a moment to realize that he’d been cut by the fragments of glass.And then he waved his hands in a complicated gesture and a blast of fire blazed out, scorching Emily’s hair as she threw herself to the ground.“Run,” Harkin snapped.“Go!”Emily ran, through a door that closed rapidly–but not quickly enough to stop her escaping into the corridor.Shadye seemed to be wounded, unable to focus enough magic to manipulate the castle into stopping her escape.But that wouldn’t stop him torturing the remaining captives if he figured out a way to break his oath.Screams followed her down the corridor as she fled, unsure of where she was going.There didn’t seem to be anywhere to go, or any way to call for help.The Grandmaster was sealed up in a locked compartment, trying to preserve at least something of Whitehall from Shadye.And there was no way she could call Void, at least not without alerting Shadye.She thought desperately, trying to find a weapon to use against the necromancer.Nothing came to mind that seemed likely to succeed.She could feel Shadye’s mind reaching out to impose his will on the castle once again.He’d be able to find her soon enough once he gained control of the monitoring spells that kept a careful eye on young students with magic and bad intentions.Unless she could find a way to escape them.but how?Maybe she could dismantle the charms using her magic - the talent she was supposed to have - yet somehow she doubted she could do it quickly enough to matter.And if Shadye happened to keep an eye on which charms were being dismantled, he’d know exactly where to find her.The stealth spells, she thought.The Sergeants–Sergeant Miles, to be precise–had taught her a handful of spells that should help her to hide.They weren’t always guaranteed to work against inhuman opponents, but she lost nothing by trying them.She’d also been warned not to use them inside Whitehall, yet she was sure that prohibition no longer applied.The spells fell into place.She relaxed slightly, before she reached the end of the corridor.But the corridor was gone.Emily felt utter despair as she stared at the stone wall.Shadye might not know precisely where she was–assuming the stealth spells were working and not lulling her into a false sense of security–but he’d closed off all possible avenues of escape.Or had he?Looking down at where the wall met the floor, she saw a tiny opening, barely large enough to accommodate a rat, or a hamster.The thought came to her before she could think better of it; self-transfiguration was incredibly dangerous, but so was being taken prisoner by an outraged necromancer.Next time, Shadye would rewrite her brain.That would be the end of all hope - or resistance.The world spun around her as she cast the spell, seeming to grow larger and larger with every second.Emily focused her mind on remembering that she was human as a sudden influx of new sensations flared into her mind.The rat had an excellent sense of smell and better eyesight than she would have believed possible, yet its thoughts were crude, very basic.It wanted to hunt the cheese it could smell in the distance, not follow the demands of a very human brain.Somehow, Emily forced herself forward, and into the hole.The rat’s mind found nothing wrong with jumping through claustrophobic tunnels and heading downwards, despite the weird flickers of magic that ran through the castle, but Emily found it terrifying–and she didn’t dare allow the rat’s mind to take the lead.It was quite possible that she would be lost completely if she forgot she was human, or at the very least she might be convinced that she was a rat.Poor Broomstick had been badly traumatized because her roommate had forgotten to include protective wards in her spell.Emily hadn’t had time to protect herself against the ratty mind.It was a part of her now.There were no signs of any other vermin as the rat jumped further down into the castle, something that bothered her.Any large structure should be infested with vermin, from rats and mice to insects and cockroaches, but Whitehall seemed to be immune.And that nagged at her mind.Had someone used magic to make a better mousetrap, or had she missed something obvious?Actually, what if there were people who had been transfigured and forgotten themselves completely? The lower levels of the castle might be guarded by frogs and rats that had once been human.Or maybe CT eats them, she thought.Or they use them to feed the creatures in the zoo.She could feel magic trickle through the air as the rat stopped, right at the very lowest part of the castle.Emily glanced around, fighting to keep the rat’s body under control as she tried to determine if she could safely transform back to a human shape.The rat’s skewed perception made it difficult, if not impossible, to be certain.It saw nothing wrong in a passageway that was little more than ten centimeters high, but Emily knew that she’d be killed instantly if she returned to human form in a space too small to hold her.Shadye would probably sense her death and decide that, too, had been part of his plan.Eventually, she managed to get out into a giant passageway, large enough to take a human being.The rat’s brain fought her as she started to release the spell, either out of self-preservation or because the rat smelled the stench of Orcs with bad intentions.No doubt Orcs ate rats for breakfast.Emily gagged at the thought as the spell twisted and finally snapped.She flopped against the wall, barely able to hold herself upright.Her mind spun as it struggled to cope with the sudden change, even though the ratty thoughts had faded away into nothingness.But the rat’ senses had been better than hers as a human and, oddly, now she was human again she felt blinded.She took her a moment to gather herself.Then, abandoning the struggle of walking upright, she stumbled down the corridor on all-fours.Idiot, she told herself, when her mind caught up with what she was doing.It had felt natural to move like a rat, natural and right.No wonder Broomstick had been so badly affected, even though a broom shouldn’t have had a mind to merge with human thoughts.Maybe she’d just imagined it into existence [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.And he’d offered himself to the blade knowing that it wouldn’t work.She twisted suddenly and locked onto the vial in Shadye’s hands.The Sergeant had sacrificed himself to give her a chance, and she wasn’t going to waste it.There was no point in a direct attack, but if the wards of Whitehall couldn’t keep Shadye from manipulating her mind, his own protections couldn’t break the link between her and her blood.The vial exploded in Shadye’s hands and he howled in pain, almost as if her blood had turned to acid.It took her a moment to realize that he’d been cut by the fragments of glass.And then he waved his hands in a complicated gesture and a blast of fire blazed out, scorching Emily’s hair as she threw herself to the ground.“Run,” Harkin snapped.“Go!”Emily ran, through a door that closed rapidly–but not quickly enough to stop her escaping into the corridor.Shadye seemed to be wounded, unable to focus enough magic to manipulate the castle into stopping her escape.But that wouldn’t stop him torturing the remaining captives if he figured out a way to break his oath.Screams followed her down the corridor as she fled, unsure of where she was going.There didn’t seem to be anywhere to go, or any way to call for help.The Grandmaster was sealed up in a locked compartment, trying to preserve at least something of Whitehall from Shadye.And there was no way she could call Void, at least not without alerting Shadye.She thought desperately, trying to find a weapon to use against the necromancer.Nothing came to mind that seemed likely to succeed.She could feel Shadye’s mind reaching out to impose his will on the castle once again.He’d be able to find her soon enough once he gained control of the monitoring spells that kept a careful eye on young students with magic and bad intentions.Unless she could find a way to escape them.but how?Maybe she could dismantle the charms using her magic - the talent she was supposed to have - yet somehow she doubted she could do it quickly enough to matter.And if Shadye happened to keep an eye on which charms were being dismantled, he’d know exactly where to find her.The stealth spells, she thought.The Sergeants–Sergeant Miles, to be precise–had taught her a handful of spells that should help her to hide.They weren’t always guaranteed to work against inhuman opponents, but she lost nothing by trying them.She’d also been warned not to use them inside Whitehall, yet she was sure that prohibition no longer applied.The spells fell into place.She relaxed slightly, before she reached the end of the corridor.But the corridor was gone.Emily felt utter despair as she stared at the stone wall.Shadye might not know precisely where she was–assuming the stealth spells were working and not lulling her into a false sense of security–but he’d closed off all possible avenues of escape.Or had he?Looking down at where the wall met the floor, she saw a tiny opening, barely large enough to accommodate a rat, or a hamster.The thought came to her before she could think better of it; self-transfiguration was incredibly dangerous, but so was being taken prisoner by an outraged necromancer.Next time, Shadye would rewrite her brain.That would be the end of all hope - or resistance.The world spun around her as she cast the spell, seeming to grow larger and larger with every second.Emily focused her mind on remembering that she was human as a sudden influx of new sensations flared into her mind.The rat had an excellent sense of smell and better eyesight than she would have believed possible, yet its thoughts were crude, very basic.It wanted to hunt the cheese it could smell in the distance, not follow the demands of a very human brain.Somehow, Emily forced herself forward, and into the hole.The rat’s mind found nothing wrong with jumping through claustrophobic tunnels and heading downwards, despite the weird flickers of magic that ran through the castle, but Emily found it terrifying–and she didn’t dare allow the rat’s mind to take the lead.It was quite possible that she would be lost completely if she forgot she was human, or at the very least she might be convinced that she was a rat.Poor Broomstick had been badly traumatized because her roommate had forgotten to include protective wards in her spell.Emily hadn’t had time to protect herself against the ratty mind.It was a part of her now.There were no signs of any other vermin as the rat jumped further down into the castle, something that bothered her.Any large structure should be infested with vermin, from rats and mice to insects and cockroaches, but Whitehall seemed to be immune.And that nagged at her mind.Had someone used magic to make a better mousetrap, or had she missed something obvious?Actually, what if there were people who had been transfigured and forgotten themselves completely? The lower levels of the castle might be guarded by frogs and rats that had once been human.Or maybe CT eats them, she thought.Or they use them to feed the creatures in the zoo.She could feel magic trickle through the air as the rat stopped, right at the very lowest part of the castle.Emily glanced around, fighting to keep the rat’s body under control as she tried to determine if she could safely transform back to a human shape.The rat’s skewed perception made it difficult, if not impossible, to be certain.It saw nothing wrong in a passageway that was little more than ten centimeters high, but Emily knew that she’d be killed instantly if she returned to human form in a space too small to hold her.Shadye would probably sense her death and decide that, too, had been part of his plan.Eventually, she managed to get out into a giant passageway, large enough to take a human being.The rat’s brain fought her as she started to release the spell, either out of self-preservation or because the rat smelled the stench of Orcs with bad intentions.No doubt Orcs ate rats for breakfast.Emily gagged at the thought as the spell twisted and finally snapped.She flopped against the wall, barely able to hold herself upright.Her mind spun as it struggled to cope with the sudden change, even though the ratty thoughts had faded away into nothingness.But the rat’ senses had been better than hers as a human and, oddly, now she was human again she felt blinded.She took her a moment to gather herself.Then, abandoning the struggle of walking upright, she stumbled down the corridor on all-fours.Idiot, she told herself, when her mind caught up with what she was doing.It had felt natural to move like a rat, natural and right.No wonder Broomstick had been so badly affected, even though a broom shouldn’t have had a mind to merge with human thoughts.Maybe she’d just imagined it into existence [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]