He might not give a damn about me, I reflected, but the chance to have Juliet in his debt isn’t one he’ll pass up easily.
I studied Juliet’s back as she paced. It made a very tempting target. If I’d been able to move, I would have bashed her over the head and run for it. I might not have been able to knock her out — she was strong, and there was no point in denying it — but it might have stunned her long enough for me to escape.
The clock chimed. The match was about to begin.
“I’ll be back,” Juliet snapped. “Don’t you move.”
I wanted to scream as she scooped up her bag and hurried out the room, closing the door behind her. Whatever spell she’d used on me was strong. I couldn’t dispel it. I was fairly sure shouting for help would be pointless. The privacy wards on the room would make sure they never reached friendly ears. There were emergency spells, but I couldn’t cast them. My heart sank further — I would have thought it impossible — as it dawned on me Juliet might just get away with it after all. She would speak to Blair and Thomas, probably offering them a favour to be redeemed later in exchange for their silence, then intimidate her accomplice or simply wipe her memory too. Aniseed… I liked to think my roommate would be a tougher nut to crack, but Juliet probably wouldn’t have any trouble wiping her memories, either. And then… all she had to do was make sure our memories matched, and she’d be home free.
There has to be a way out, I told myself. It was hard to move my fingers to cast spells and I’d never been that good at fingerless casting. The counterspells should have dissolved the spell holding me still, but it remained firmly in place. There has to be…
My thoughts ran in circles. Gods, I hoped Blair and Thomas demanded something thoroughly disgusting in return for their silence. It might be the only justice Juliet would ever face for her crimes. The Grandmaster might cover them up … she certainly thought he would or she’d never have taken the risk. I glared at the wall, as if I could see through it to the arena and the players taking their places on the field. Juliet had gone on and on about the league sending its finest spotters to the match, to watch as she showcased her skills… my heart burned in frustration when I realised she might get away with it after all. The game might be rigged… even if it wasn’t, I knew past games had been.
I suppose it is proof she’s good at her job, I thought, bitterly. She’d had a stroke of bad luck — her accomplice shouldn’t have given me the betting slips— but she’d recovered nicely before returning to the game. And as long as she’s careful, she’ll get away with it…
My hands shook as I tried to break free. My father was going to be very disappointed in me… no he wasn’t, because as long as Juliet was careful he’d never find out. I hoped he’d ask enough probing questions, when I went home for the holidays, to break the memory spell… would he? My father wasn’t one of the aristos who considered his daughters nothing more than pawns on his personal gameboard, or — worse — one of the ones who thought his children were extensions of himself. Dad trusted me to be smart — and to come to him if I got into something I couldn’t handle. I felt a wave of frustration. For once, I wanted him to be a little more controlling, a little more inclined to demand to know everything I’d done since we parted. If he asked the right questions…
Think, I told myself. There’s always a way out.
I pushed my despair aside and forced myself to think. I couldn’t break the spell directly. It was cast by a stronger magician, who had every reason to keep me trapped until she could wipe my mind. But if I could push it aside… an idea crossed my mind, and I performed a simple summoning charm, drawing a piece of chat parchment to my hands. It wasn’t easy to press it against my bare skin — my hands were clenched so hard I knew I was going to be aching for days afterwards — but I made it. The charms on the parchment were strikingly simple. I’d cast them myself, when we’d been experimenting with a self-updating broadsheet. If I could use them to wriggle through the charm holding me in place…
The spell broke. I collapsed in a heap, my muscles cramping violently. More proof, if I’d needed it, that Juliet was a sadist. It would have been kinder to simply freeze me completely until she returned. Safer, too. If she didn’t account for the cramps somehow, I’d start wondering why I’d cramped, and the entire memory spell would start to unravel. It was hard, so hard, to pick myself off the floor and stagger to my feet. I had to hurry. If I was still in her room when she returned, I’d leave with a slice gapped out of my memory.
My heart sank. If she was right — if the Grandmaster really would cover up the whole affair — I might end up losing my memory anyway. Anger flowed through me, followed by grim resolution. There couldn’t be a cover-up if the truth was already out, could there? If I took a leaf from Juliet’s book and gambled, if I made sure they learnt the truth in a manner they couldn’t ignore…
This is either a crazy idea or a brilliant one, I thought, as I slipped through the door. And I’m about to find out which it is.
Chapter 7
7
There was no sign of anyone, not even a groupie, as I made my way into the sporting halls directly linked to the arena, but I slowed and tried to be as stealthy as possible just in case. I felt sure unseen eyes were following me, their owners possibly wondering why I — as unsporting a girl who had ever lived — was down here. I’d never felt comfortable in this place. I’d dropped sports as soon as I could. Yet, it was the only way to get to the arena without being spotted. I wasn’t even sure I could get onto the field from the stands.
And someone might stop you before it is too late, I thought, as I inched forward. The dampening spells were strong, but I heard the roar of the crowd echo through the walls. I wondered, idly, if Juliet was winning or losing. The Grandmaster wouldn’t be refereeing this match, not with all the spotters in the stands. If I can’t get onto the field…
Ice congealed in my chest. I did my best to ignore it as I reached the locker rooms. The players had gathered there, drinking water and practicing their spells while running through the game plan one final time. The air stank of sweat, of too many hard-working men and women in too close of a proximity. I felt a twinge of sympathy for the players, even though most of them were jerks. They were going to be asked a lot of questions when the truth came out, and, even though I was sure they didn’t have the slightest idea of what was going on, they were going to be in deep shit. I heard the crowd roar again, jeering a player who’d been sent to the Sin Bin. I wondered, numbly, if they’d cheer for me.
Will they praise me for revealing the truth, I asked myself, or hate me for tattling?
My heart sank. I hesitated. If I kept my mouth shut… I could take precautions, make sure Juliet couldn’t wipe my memory, perhaps even strike a deal with the Grandmaster to keep the truth from coming out. It wouldn’t be that hard… I shivered, despite the warmth. If I did…
The crowd roared again. I swallowed, then braced myself. I had to go through with the plan. Not just for justice. Not just to spite Juliet. Not even for the crowd, cheering loudly for games that had been decided well before the players marched onto the field, but for the truth. The truth had to come out. The world needed to know what was actually going on. And all it would cost me was…