by Anne Zoelle
“Also, keep in mind that the Second Layer Combat Competition is coming up in six weeks. We usually work with Excelsine graduates to provide security on campus while the combat mages are competing, but this year...the Department and Excelsine officials have made...an agreement. The Department is dropping their review into the craziness that happened last term, and the much revered Peacekeepers' Troop will provide security for campus during the competition week.”
Most of the others, including Peters, nodded grimly. I sat up straight, alarmed by their response, and elated that the Department wasn't going to interrogate all of us after all.
A promotional video for the Peacekeepers' Troop appeared on the wall. Men and women bent their knees in succession, then took aim, firing spells. Like some sort of cheer squad doing battle drills.
The video zeroed in on capable, determined faces and well-practiced maneuvers. “Your magical security is our magical business!” The video feed exploded in a shower of lights. Showy and empty.
Isaiah continued through his agenda, but I stared at the finished feed, mystified, a little horrified, and a lot intrigued.
I waited a few minutes after the others had cleared out of the room then approached Isaiah.
“Security? But that doesn't include me, right?”
He looked amused. “Since your community service period extends past Winter Term, you're an official part of the squad for whatever happens during the winter.” His dark brown eyes sparkled with humor. “Congratulations.”
“Great.” I sighed. “What does security entail?”
The Justice Squad dealt with the contractual magic that each student on campus was bound to. Usually we didn't have to chase people down or fight them. The Combat Squad dealt with those types of things—escaped Midlands magic, intruders, monsters—and the Neutralizer Squad was called in to put mages and magic back to rights. But now Isaiah was saying...
“When the combat mages leave campus en masse to attend the Second Layer Combat Competition, it leaves campus without security. So every year our squad works with an outside group—usually made up of combat mage alumni—to provide campus security. But with the way the Department is reacting to Layer events, the higher-ups pushed for the Peacekeepers' Troop.”
Isaiah shook his head, frowning. “Usually we just partner up to provide eyes, ears, and aid to the alumni, nothing exciting happens, and the Combat Squad ribs them about being too old to fire spells. This year... Well, no one wants the Department getting a toehold into Excelsine, but the public is currently terrified and crazed and they've convinced the people in power—many of whom have kids who attend here.”
I stared at him, no response forthcoming from my brain.
He gave me an encouraging look. “Politics. But Selmarie and I will take care of everything. Don't worry about it much, okay?”
Dare might be the unofficial leader of the combat mages, due to his outright badassery, but Selmarie Senthuss was the twenty-two-year-old head of the Combat Squad. A no-nonsense mage who answered to the administration on the Combat Squad's behalf, created their patrol schedules, handled their crazy personality clashes, and who was a fierce fighter herself.
I rubbed my cuffed wrist. “I, uh, don't know how to fight.” I wanted to protect my friends, with certainty. But protecting campus as a magical bouncer? I had almost ended campus last term. I wasn't sure it could survive me running around blasting monsters every day.
He waved a hand. “Don't worry. Most of the squad is in the same boat. We're dealers of justice, not combat. That's why we will partner up and why the combat mages will help us prepare. Just get some rest and wait out your assignment.”
Okay. Maybe... Maybe I could do great things. Protect campus and reduce my guilt and make it safe enough that the miniature dragons returned to the jet streams.
Maybe they would assign me to casing the Midlands. Guard Rock with his zombie radar, and me with some quick-drawn traps... We could take them. The randomness of nature and magic was far easier to understand than people, most of the time.
This assignment... It could be great. It could be my ticket to my magic helping instead of hurting.
If only I had realized then what Isaiah meant by “assignment.”
~*~
I made the trip back to the dorm to check on Olivia. Thankfully, she was in her chair and her magic was back to full strength. It had only been three days since we'd happily played board games at home in the First Layer—though it felt far longer. But we'd get back to that state. I'd make sure of that.
“Nephthys told me that Verisetti is visiting you in your dreams,” she said as soon as I shut the door.
I nodded, chucking my bag onto my desk and collapsing on my bed, exhausted. I was always exhausted in the magical world, though. “I put up wards when I returned from the library last night, but you were already asleep. He poked and prodded last night, but didn't get through.”
I had been forced to dream instead of my two feet repeatedly jabbing my open mouth while Alexander Dare watched on.
“Nephthys said you had the dreams while in the First Layer too.” Olivia's voice took on a distinct chill. “You never said anything.”
“It was that last night. The spell snapping into place?” I ran fingers through my ponytail. “I let him 'dim me' so we could come back. I was trying to figure out how to tell you without you yelling at me. Speaking to him at all was a mistake, I know. He took me by surprise, and he knows what buttons to push.”
I had been making a lot of mistakes lately, which was off-putting. I had been so careful in the past. But I was working with a lot of new variables instead of the ones I had always relied upon.
“Did he connect through the wards? Are the wards not enough to keep your parents safe?” she demanded.
“No, it was me. I did something that night. Invited him in by accident. I was drained. The holidays...” I shook my head. “I wasn't sure if seeing him wasn't really just the crazy, all manifesting in my mind.”
At Olivia's immediate physical withdrawal, I straightened my posture. “Not drained because of anything to do with you,” I said quickly, trying to minimize my inadvertent damage. “Being without Christian.” I hunched in my shoulders. “First birthday, first Christmas.”
Her withdrawal warmed back to a dissecting regard. “Emotional involvement. The consequences of making, then losing an attachment.”
I was pretty sure she was talking to herself, but I responded anyway. “Worth it.” My voice sounded strained. “Worth it,” I whispered again.
“You put up these protections last night?” She pointed at a few colorful ward strings that were concentrated over her side of the room. I had put far more on her side of the room.
I cleared my throat. “Yes. I wanted to make sure they would protect you.”
She moved something on her desk, one of her emotional delaying tactics. “I wish to add to the rooms' wards too.”
I smiled, and gave a small, relieved laugh. It would protect her even better if we built them together. “That would be great, Olivia.”
~*~
After extensive consultation with Olivia that lasted through dinner, I went to the fourth floor of the library to look up the double spell that would allow us to increase the dream wards to triple-powered strength. Raphael would be very sorry tonight when he came knocking.
Because of my experience with Dare, the library was one of the last places I wished to be, but I was better equipped to deal with Vivid than Olivia was. Olivia would rip out its tongue.
I checked to see if Alexander Dare was near, then double-checked that the avoidance spell was still in place. The spell still felt weird, but that was probably because any associated thought I had of him caused a jump in the attached ultramarine line I was now very aware of.
Having a connection to Alexander Dare wasn't new, but seeing the very bright thread was. It vibrated, taunting me. I could have done without the visual reminder. Ignorance really was bliss sometimes.
The Book of Time
signaled midnight as it flew through the air, sounding out twenty-four pulped chirps. I had been working for five hours straight—two of those in a reading room—but I still hadn't determined the correct order of steps for the enchantment we needed to try before going to bed.
The words moved on Vivid's page, a result of bleary eyes and foggy thoughts. I needed to sleep or get a mused-up recharge from Neph. We had to get this enchantment right. I couldn't risk letting Olivia be sucked into some sort of horrorfest with Raphael, if we screwed up.
“I can't let anyone else I care about die,” I said to Vivid's pages. Its tongue waved in a consoling fashion, then jerked suddenly in an upwardly pointing manner. I had no idea what it was trying to say—that loved ones were in Heaven?
I shook my head. “That's not... Look, I know. He's fine. He's at peace. He's probably rocking things up there. But I can't let anyone else I care about die.”
Vivid's bookmark jerked more aggravatingly. Pointing, yes; but to Heaven, no.
I lifted my gaze...and saw Alexander Dare standing in front of me, arms crossed, head tilted so he was looking down at me with dissecting regard. I might have to rethink my hotness scale. He kind of defied it.
My stomach sank. In the afterlife, I'd consider it, certainly. And it would be in the afterlife, because he was looking right at me.
He had always been on the edge of destroying the avoidance spell. I had barely been able to maintain the illusion in the Midlands without detection last term. It was a tricky and draining spell to hold. If I lived through this confrontation, I'd have to try something new. Maybe a permanent invisibility spell. Only a few people would miss me.
“Hi,” I said, resigned to my fate. Too tired to argue.
Something indecipherable shifted in his expression, then smoothed out. I got the feeling he was mentally shifting tactics based on my response. “It worked,” he said.
What worked? My social destruction? He was obviously not referencing my avoidance spell. “Do I need to pack now or later?”
His brows drew sharply together. “What?”
I put my forehead on my crossed arms, which awkwardly and painfully strained my helmet upward, the strap pulling on the underside of my chin. Wearing a helmet because I couldn't fend off the enchanted books on my own didn't even rank in the top three worst parts of this moment.
“Come back tomorrow,” I said into my sleeve. “Brain functions, starry-eyed awkwardness, and my will to live will all be operational again sometime in the morning.”
Vivid, sensing an opening, tried to weasel between my arm and cheek, hoping to push the helmet from my head. Its blue bookmarked tongue lapped the hair at my neck excitedly.
Whatever. Do your worst.
The book was pushed to the side, along with my hair, and long, warm fingers touched the back of my neck. A triple-shot of adrenaline and white light surged through me, electrocuting my spine, and firing all neurons in my body.
“Whoa.” My torso snapped straight. Everything was sharp, crisp, and overwhelming—hyper-stimulated by whatever magic Dare had just shot into my skin.
His arms crossed again, his gaze unapologetic, looking like he had stepped out of a magical GQ spread. “Consider us even now. Your indexing spell worked, but you shouldn't use magic on someone without their permission,” he said pointedly.
I saw people doing magic on other people every minute of the day. What he meant was—don't use it on me without my permission or I will squash you. I had seen his magic used for squashing. It wasn't pretty.
But as the magic surged within me, that fact barely registered. I looked at my arms, dazed as each tired cell revitalized in a long magical stream. “Sorry about magicking you yesterday. That was a mistake. But you can feel free to do this to me anytime. Permission granted.”
I caught the hint of a smile on his face before he wiped it away. “Why did you say our magic was sympathetic and connected?” he asked.
I waved a hand, feeling my own adrenaline course. It nearly overrode my panic—like a drug that encouraged life-risking behaviors. What would I have done for a restoration like this last term? Given at least a rib. Maybe two. “It seems like we are?”
“No.”
I was pretty darn certain of our sympathy and connection, but I was perfectly happy to pretend otherwise. I nodded and the energy coursed through my neck, making me shiver. “Yes, I think I see that I was mistaken.”
“My 'no' was a rejection of your vague answer. Try another,” he said, the last word overly pronounced.
“Er...” Careful, careful, no mistakes. “We are all connected?” That seemed appropriately batty and in character—I was absolutely never coherent around him. I waved my hand in his direction, watching the traces of light it left in the air, trying to convey to him wordlessly that I was too flighty to hold a conversation.
He didn't answer and his eyes dissected me like a puzzle box he was determined to destroy.
Don't speak! Say nothing more! The risk-taking adrenaline he had sent surging through my blood and magic made me want to take a chance and blurt out everything, but my mind was screaming not to fall prey to that piercing gaze. I rolled my shoulders and the magic blazed a path along both blades, converging in the middle and shooting down my sternum. The ultramarine thread pulsed from my chest to his with jeweled brightness.
I stared at it for long moments, truly mesmerized. “What spell is this?”
I stretched my right leg, feeling the tingle travel all the way down. I repeated the motions with my left. “This is insane. I've been sitting here all night, yet I feel like I could run a marathon—without a Justice Tablet forcing me to do it, and believe me, I've been on the other end of that.”
A smile curved one edge of his mouth. “Family trade secret,” he said, finally.
“You should bottle and sell it. You could give the muses a run for their money.”
“It's better,” he said, with certainty that bypassed arrogance. “The only way you would get such a benefit from a muse is if you had a personal one, and no one risks that.”
I didn't know why not. Neph was awesome. I couldn't stop rolling the magic around my limbs. “You'd make millions.”
He spun a ball of blue magic in his right hand. Hopefully it was a reflexive motion. It seemed unlikely that he would have given me the energy boost if he planned to throw a spell of doom at me.
“You haven't answered my question,” he said.
I didn't want to answer his question. “How did I get through your shields anyway?” Perhaps skin-to-skin contact combined with the sheer element of surprise had done it? I'd have to look into that. I needed every edge when I saw Raphael next time.
Dare's expression turned unreadable. “We are toeing around the same answer.”
“It's because we are sympathetic?” I asked, surprised.
“No. You can't get through a shield simply by being sympathetic with the mage who holds it. If that was how it worked, the shield would be useless. There are probably a thousand mages at this school who you are sympathetic with at various levels.”
“Oh.” That made sense. My eyes automatically moved to the bright blue cord between us. There was sympathy and there was connection, and they didn't have to go together.
His ever-present ball of magic moved with his almost unconscious hand motions. “Poor memory?” he asked casually. “They drill that information into everyone in primary. Then again in secondary school.”
My adrenaline surged into a riotous whirlwind, whipping along my veins.
“Right.” I tried nodding at him, as if I was confirming memory problems, but the motion was stilted.
He knew. Alexander Dare knew I was feral. I could hear it in his unspoken words, though I could read nothing in his expression as to what he thought of my feral state.
I stopped nodding, stilling all motion completely. “What are you going to do?”
“Why do you think I'm going to do anything?”
“You wouldn't be here discussi
ng it with me otherwise.”
His lips pulled into a half smile, increasing his hotness past the scale. But then his expression tightened. “An interesting comment, since you are surprised that I am here discussing anything with you right now.”
“What do you mean?” I licked my lips, alarm of a different nature taking hold.
He tossed the blue ball of light onto the table in front of me. The light puffed out in misty blue swirls, leaving a piece of paper behind.
His unnaturally blue eyes were cool. “You dropped that yesterday.”
I gingerly lifted the note—ice freezing my veins at the words on the sheet. My other hand reached immediately for my bag. The note that tethered the avoidance spell should have been in there, not in my hand.
But written on the paper in my hand, in my handwriting, was Avoidance Spell – Ex Repellant and Protection. Scripted beneath my words, in someone else's handwriting, was Alexander Dare. Someone had cast a spell to reveal who I'd been avoiding with the ex-boyfriend spell, and it was pretty obvious said spell caster was standing in front of me.
Oh, shit.
He touched the skin under his ear, tuning into whatever his frequency was alerting him to. For a moment, I thought I was saved—some eight-headed monster was tearing up lower campus, or maybe a freak storm consisting of man-eating breakfast sandwiches was swooping through the skies—he'd stride off to do battle and forget me completely. But his finger dropped and his expression smoothed again into a dissecting stare. A stare totally focused on me.
“A curiously strong avoidance casting,” he said. “And yet I found you anyway. Think on that.” He turned on his heel, then strode away, battle cloak and gear magically forming and flaring around him.
Double shit.
Chapter Twelve: The Lightning Festival
I leaned my weight against the magical microwave in our room, eyes barely open, and put my hand in the personalization square that would allow me to influence what I wanted to happen inside it. I tried to concentrate on telling the box to add powdered sugar, chocolate chips, butter, and cinnamon to my Magi Mart waffles in the perfectly coordinated way it did when I wasn't exhausted.
