Gennady swallowed hard and stood, walking slowly towards the bed. His thoughts ran in circles. It was a trap. It might be a trap. It was a trap ... he felt like a hungry dog snapping at a tantalising piece of meat, too hungry to care that it might be poisoned or snatched away before he could take a bite. His heart pounded as he brushed against the wards, suddenly aware that Charlus could come back at any moment. The aristocrat would be merciless if he caught Gennady poking around his bed. He’d had no qualms about hexing Gennady’s bed, but ... he’d be outraged if Gennady did it to him. And yet ...
The wards wavered as Gennady brushed against them. Charlus had weakened them, without putting them back afterwards. Gennady knew enough to understand that Charlus was cutting corners, although—normally—his confidence would be entirely justified. Neither Gennady nor Simon had the skill or power to weaken the wards to the point the entire network collapsed, like a house built on poor foundations. Gennady smiled as he pushed through the webbing of magic and peered at the aristocrat’s bed. The sense of being somewhere he shouldn’t—and the certainty he’d be in deep shit if he was caught—was one hell of a thrill. He reached for the books before he could stop himself, feeling a twinge of envy that Charlus could read advanced textbooks. It would be easy, very easy, to simply steal them. He could take them down to the kitchens and shove them in the fire. The thought was so tempting that his hands were almost on the books before he stopped himself. He’d heard enough horror stories about charmed books defending themselves—and what happened to people who didn’t return books to the library before they became overdue—to keep himself from taking the chance. It was too dangerous.
And besides, destroying books is a real crime, he reminded himself. It’s not a common prank like turning someone into a frog and tossing them into a pond.
He shuddered, then ran his hands over the bedding. It didn’t feel superior to the school’s, but ... he snorted. Half the fun of buying expensive things, he’d noticed, was being able to say that one had them. Charlus was certainly given to bragging about his wealth and possessions, from an entire stable of horses to a giant vault of gold. Simon suggested they didn’t exist, but Gennady feared they did. Charlus certainly had no qualms about throwing money around as if it were water.
The drawers under the bed were locked and warded shut. Gennady examined the spells, then decided there was no point trying to take them down. Charlus had done too good a job. He’d made sure that Gennady, at least, couldn’t break in before it was too late. Gennady shrugged, then stared at the bed. There was nothing, save for the books. Perhaps he could take them or ... he cursed under his breath. He’d put himself at risk, for what? There was nothing worth stealing or destroying, nothing that wouldn’t lead Charlus right to him. And yet ...
He shaped a spell in his mind, then placed it just underneath Charlus’s pillow. The spell wasn’t undetectable, but ... would Charlus think to look? Tradition be damned ... neither Gennady nor Simon had had the nerve to booby-trap Charlus’s bed. Gennady found himself shaking as he slipped back, careful not to move too fast as he passed through the gossamer-thin wards and returned to his bed. The spell seemed too bright, too powerful, to pass unnoticed. And yet, he knew where to look. Charlus might not. He shouldn’t have any reason to think he should.
Gennady lay on his bed, his thoughts spinning in circles as he waited. It wouldn’t be long before Charlus—and Simon—returned. They wouldn’t want to be caught outside after Lights Out, certainly not before the older students and tutors had gone to bed themselves. Sneaking around the school after dark was another tradition, but so was harsh punishment for anyone stupid enough to be caught. Gennady wished, despite himself, that he could risk it for himself. But he didn’t dare be caught outside by the wrong people.
The spell would work, wouldn’t it? A little of his own back ... the thought was tempting, tantalising. And yet, he feared what would happen when the spell wore off. Charlus would know who’d cast it, wouldn’t he? It wasn’t easy for someone to enter a bedroom without an invitation, unless they happened to be one of the roommates. The handful of students who could were Charlus’s friends. Gennady and Simon didn’t have any other friends. Gennady felt his heart pounding as the seconds ticked by, each one feeling like an hour. He wanted to leave the spell in place, yet ... he also wanted to remove it before it was too late. He’d known too many people like Charlus. The bullies always seemed to take it as a personal affront if anyone dared fight back.
I can stop Hogarth now, Gennady told himself. A flick of my finger and he’ll never hurt anyone again.
The door opened. Gennady’s heart seemed to skip a beat as Charlus strode into the room, his face an angry mask. Gennady almost opened his mouth to say something, although he had no idea what. If Charlus was angry ... Gennady knew it wouldn’t make a difference. Who knew? Maybe the girl had turned him down. Or one of his social equals had challenged his petty cruelty. No, that wasn’t likely to happen. There were a handful of other senior aristocrats amongst the younger students, but none of them would go out on a limb for Gennady or Simon. Or even for Lyndred.
Charlus banged the door closed, glared at Gennady and marched straight into the bathroom. Gennady waited, bracing himself as he heard the sound of running water. Perhaps Charlus had struck out after all. Or ... his thoughts seemed to slow down as Charlus returned, stamped over to his bed and sat down. A moment later, there was a brilliant flash of light, bright enough to make Gennady cover his eyes. He blinked, staring at Charlus’s bed. There was a frog sitting where the aristocrat had been. Charlus ... Charlus had been caught by the spell.
It worked. Gennady couldn’t help giggling. It worked ...
The frog seemed to blur, the green form wavering weirdly until Charlus snapped back to normal. Charlus blinked in shock, then turned to stare at Gennady. Gennady felt his heart stop, just for a second, as the aristocrat jumped to his feet. Charlus was not going to let this insult go unpunished. And yet ... he’d done it. He’d struck a blow against his tormentor. It wasn’t hopeless! It really wasn’t hopeless.
Charlus unbuckled his belt. “Stand up,” he said. “Drop trousers.”
Gennady blanched. “No,” he said. He wasn’t going to submit. Not again. He certainly wasn’t going to make it easy for the bastard. “I ...”
“Fine,” Charlus snarled. “We’ll do it the hard way.”
Magic flared over his hand and launched itself at Gennady. Gennady felt his body twist painfully as the magic tore through him, binding him to the bed. Charlus stalked over and brought his belt down hard on Gennady’s back. Gennady bit his lip to keep from screaming, before realising that screaming might be the best thing he could do. Charlus hit him again and again, the pain merging into a wave of pure agony ...
“Never do that again,” Charlus growled. “Never.”
I got you, Gennady thought. I got you...
He gritted his teeth as Charlus turned and walked away. His back was in utter agony. He’d been beaten before, but ... this was different. He tried to tell himself that he’d won a victory, of sorts, yet ... it was hard to convince himself it was true. Sure, he’d discomfited Charlus. He’d struck a lucky blow. And yet, Charlus had recovered and beaten the crap out of him. Hogarth couldn’t have done a better job. Gennady’s stomach turned. He’d always thought he was physically stronger than Charlus. Now he thought that wasn’t true.