The Sports Captain's Tale полностью

Mildred looked pale as she finished the spell. The four foxes morphed into copies of four of us. They didn’t have our intelligence, and the moment the control spell snapped their animal mentalities would take over, but they did have our handsome faces. It struck me, suddenly, that Mildred was actually very cute. Her body might not be as enticing as Samra’s or as toned as Darrell’s, but … I put the thought aside for later contemplation. Right now, it was a distraction, the last thing I needed.

“Add the blood,” Mildred ordered. “Hurry!”

I did as I was told, adding a tiny droplet of my blood to the spell as the transfigured foxes quivered in terror. It was hard not to feel guilty, even though I hadn’t been able to work out any other way to pull the trick off. I’d have felt less bothered about improving Blair’s looks remarkably by turning him into a duplicate of me. It wasn’t against the rules, and students had done far worse to animal subjects over the years, but … I promised myself I’d make sure the foxes were well-rewarded for their service. It was the very least we could do.

James caught my eye. “They’re coming.”

I nodded. I could hear them. A team was heading straight towards our base, moving so quickly it was clear they didn’t give a damn about stealth. I nodded to Mildred, who took over the compulsion spell and directed the foxes back to the base. James, Mark and Karen joined them, readying their magic. I felt another pang of guilt. They’d volunteered for the job – it had to look convincing – but still …

The entanglement spells buzzed around me. My mind slid through the connection as our faux team returned to the base. The whole experience was weirdly disconcerting, as though I was underwater … I wasn’t sure if it was because my mind was too close to the transfigured foxes or if it was just a side effect of the entanglement spell. It felt almost like flying on a pitchfork, only worse … as if the pitchfork was under someone else’s control. I’d met a witch from Laughter who’d taken me on a ride, before I’d taken her for a ride on my broomstick.

Sarah’s team exploded out of the foliage and crashed into our base, throwing spells through the arrow slits as though there was no tomorrow. They’d come up with their own tricks, part of my mind noted, as our faked team attacked. The magical grenades they’d devised froze everyone caught within the field, taking them out before they could react. It would have worked too – I made a note to steal the trick myself – if we’d been in the fort. Instead, we pitched into their side and counterattacked. Sarah’s team would have lost, in that instant, if we’d all been there.

Shit, I thought. Sarah was no fool. Would she notice we weren’t fighting as intensely as we should? What if …?

Sarah’s face went blank. Someone had hit her with a compulsion spell, right in the back. I knew who it was even before Blair’s face appeared in front of me, casting spell after spell. The fighting turned into a melee, a fight I couldn’t have followed even if my mind wasn’t having problems coping with the entanglement spells. Someone hexed me – the fox – and I tumbled to the ground. I could have freed the beast, but I wanted them to think they’d taken me out. My awareness glided away, leaving me with the impression of Blair calling his charmed slaves to him. I felt a stab of pity. Poor Sarah. A first-year being hexed with such a spell and forced to recite doggerel or kiss the caster’s feet or something was bad enough, but she was a fifth-year …

He won’t molest her, I told myself. But she’ll be all too aware he could.

My awareness fell back into my body, as if I’d awoken from a dream. The world was too bright … I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to stand. Blair and the others would think he’d wiped us out to the very last man, unless he thought to check the bodies … I hoped he wouldn’t, not when he had David coming up behind him. He’d want to believe it too, I told myself. He certainly wouldn’t want to do anything that would throw his good fortune into doubt.

I glanced at Mildred as the sound of fighting died away. “How long will the spells last?”

“At least an hour,” Mildred whispered. The silence was worse than the noise. “Unless they start prodding at them …”

“Don’t worry about it,” I told her. “Let’s go. Quietly.”