“I don’t understand,” she admitted. “You want me to steal a book you could consult anywhere?”
“The original owner of that copy wrote notes in the margins,” Cloak explained. “I want those notes.”
“I see, I think,” Nanette said. She was in no place to argue. “And you want the copy at Laughter?”
She frowned. She’d heard all the stories, particularly the ones whispered in the dorms after Lights Out, but… she’d never actually visited the school. She was fairly sure most of the horror stories were exaggerated, if only because it was hard to believe anyone would actually send their children to such a school if it truly was that horrid. Mountaintop had its flaws — had had its flaws, if Emily had truly destroyed the school — but it wasn’t that bad. One just had to learn to manipulate the system to one’s own advantage. And some of the whispers she’d heard about her alma mater had been insane. The teachers did not perform blood rites when the students were asleep, nor did they sacrifice firsties to dark gods.
“Yes,” Cloak said, patiently. “And I want it quickly.”
Nanette rubbed clammy sweat from her brow and forced herself to think. It wasn’t easy to get into a magic school. Sure, she could pretend to be a transfer student again, but last time she’d had Aurelius filing the paperwork well in advance. Lin had had a solid paper trail when she’d entered Whitehall. Someone would ask questions if she just appeared out of nowhere. She could replace another student, but it would be tricky. Even an unpopular student would be hard to replace, if only because of the number of people who’d met her. The slightest mistake might expose the deception, leaving her in enemy territory with little hope of escape. She could set up a paper trail herself, but it would take time. Her new persona would have to enter next year, as a completely new student. She didn’t think she had the time.
“I don’t think I could crack the defences,” she said, slowly. Sneaking into the school might be doable, but not quickly. “They’d have to have a reason to accept me.”
“One month from today, Princess” — the sneer in Cloak’s voice suggested it was nothing more than an affection — “Nadine of Hightower will be joining the student body. You can take her place, if you cannot come up with a better idea.”
Nanette’s eyes narrowed. “Why her?”
Cloak didn’t seem annoyed by her question. He merely shrugged.
“The young lady is apparently quite unpleasant,” Cloak said. “She is, for better or worse, the natural-born daughter of Hedrick Harkness. Baron Harkness, after he was… encouraged to marry Baroness Lillian Harkness of Zangaria. The man is… how shall I put it? A milksop wimp. King Randor was unwise to expect him to keep his unwanted wife under control.”
“Of Zangaria,” Nanette said. A wash of hatred flashed through her. “Emily’s country.”
“Indeed,” Cloak said. “Nadine was kept in an isolated castle with her mother and a handful of servants. She does indeed have a strong talent, but she was… prevented … from applying to Whitehall or Mountaintop. It is only recently that she was able to convince her father to petition the king to let her apply to other schools. Laughter was the only one that agreed to take her, after a fairly considerable bribe. I believe it was that — and that alone — that convinced them to accept her in the middle of term.”
“Which is never a pleasant experience,” Nanette said. A girl who entered school on the same day as a bunch of strangers had an excellent chance of making friends. A girl who entered late would discover that all the friendships had been made before she arrived — and there was no room for her. “Should I feel sorry for her?”
“If you like,” Cloak said. He made an impatient gesture with one pale hand. “The important point is that no one at the school has met her.”
Nanette nodded in understanding. She wouldn’t jar someone’s preconceptions if they had no preconceptions. “How long have you been planning this?”
“I had someone else in mind,” Cloak said. “But you represent a better option. You have the skills and experience to pull the mission off without a hitch.”
And I’m expendable, Nanette added, silently. He won’t regret my death.
“I understand,” she said. “How do you intend for me to get the book out of the library?”
“I’ll give you a replacement copy,” Cloak said. “And teach you how to transfer the security charms to a new book. They won’t realise the original book has been stolen because, as far as they’ll be able to tell, they’ll still have it.”
“Clever,” Nanette said. She’d have to practice the spells repeatedly. And spend time thinking through all the possible contingences. And memorise everything she could about Nadine. And get used to thinking of herself by another name. “You seem to have all the answers. What now?”
“Now you wash, you change and you come with me,” Cloak said. He passed her a simple apprentice’s robe, something that would go unnoticed in any major town or city. “Unless you particularly want to remain here.”
“No, thank you,” Nanette said. She stood. Her legs felt steady, as if she hadn’t been at death’s door. Sweat trickled down her back. “Would you mind waiting outside?”
Cloak nodded and left the room. Nanette watched him go, wondering who he truly was. He’d known who she was, he’d known where to find her… who was he? It wasn’t as if she’d had a plan to flee to Dragon’s Den. And yet… she stood, forcing herself to undress carefully before wiping herself down and donning the robe. The sooner she got her hand regrown, the better. She’d never really felt sorry for the cripples she’d seen on the streets before there’d been a very real prospect of joining them.
She brushed her hair back, then stepped outside and cast a pair of charms on the door. The landlord would be in for a shock, when he tried to sneak into her room. The spells wouldn’t last forever — she didn’t have the magic to make them last, not yet — but a few weeks as a pig would teach him a lesson about creeping on vulnerable young girls. Cloak watched her, saying nothing. She couldn’t tell if he approved or not. Aurelius would have approved. It was the job of a superior to chastise one’s inferiors.
“Take my hand,” Cloak ordered.
Nanette obeyed. A moment later, they were somewhere else.
Chapter 2
It hadn’t been a wasted month, for all the frustrations of having her wrist and hand steadily regrown while she swotted extensively. She’d studied the life and times of Nadine of Hightower, memorised family details that were of little interest to anyone outside the dedicated snob — a type she knew well from Mountaintop — and read the candid reports from servants who’d left Nadine’s household. The girl’s mother seemed incapable of keeping servants for long. The reports made it clear that few experienced servants with good characters wanted to stay in her household. Nanette didn’t blame them.
Cloak really was planning this for a long time, she thought, as she turned and followed the coach into Pendle. Who did he have in mind for the job?