The Protection of Ren Crown

by Anne Zoelle

Even from here, I could feel the dome encasing the students. I could feel it inside of me—hollowness, like a watermelon scraped of its fruit. The dome was made from Origin Magic, but tainted and fouled by ill purpose. I looked at the Administration Building—which we could see partially through the trees that surrounded the swamp. Different dome, with a different purpose, yet there were streaks of illness in there as well. Jagged edges that could detonate if not handled correctly.

  Delia cursed and pressed her lips together as the holographic view zoomed outward. “Where did they all come from?”

  There weren't just six terrorists. At least a hundred battle hardened men and women had stepped into the frame of the projection.

  “A perimeter ward was breached,” I said. I looked at the men and women in front of Godfrey. “There are probably even more of them beyond the image's range.”

  “We need a body count, Asafa,” Olivia said. “We need to know...”

  We needed to know what? I could hear the question echoed in the silence of the others. These were men and women who had been successfully terrorizing the entire Layer and its military forces for months. We needed to know how many we were going to...fight?

  “In order to do what? We are not combat mages. We are not soldiers. We need to hide, now,” Bryant said. A few other faces looked like they agreed.

  “Tracking the foreign signatures on campus, Olivia,” Saf said, his voice strong and certain. He, Trick, Will, and two guys from Epsilon were running the spells with Dagfinn. “And initiating character location and scenario mapping.”

  There was a small tap in my scarf, then a dot popped up on the hologram of the mountain that Saf was stretching between his hands. Sixteen other dots appeared around mine—registering each connected scarf—and an equal amount were grouped together in Dorm Five. It was just like one of Saf and Trick's games—except the mountain was the setting and we were the game's protagonists armed only with full life bars.

  “Frey, you can't tell me you are going along with this change of plan, this war game, this utter tripe?” Bryant addressed Asafa incredulously. When Saf didn't answer, Bryant turned to Olivia and pointed sharply at her. “We are not soldiers, Price. I am not a soldier.”

  “Do you see who that is, Bryant?” Olivia jabbed a finger at the first hologram where Godfrey was smirking and strutting outside the domed battle field stands. “They will kill all of us. They will kill everyone in the stands at the battle field, probably as soon as they gather their audience. As soon as those eight channels are answered, that dome will house the burial ground for ten thousand trapped ducks. You are either an asset or a liability to us,” Olivia said, locking gazes with him. “Which one is it going to be?”

  “That so?” Bryant looked both incredulous and angry. “You going to take me out if I'm not in on your absurd little war game?”

  Olivia's gaze was uncompromising. “I wouldn't waste my energy or time.”

  “What the hell. You? Going to save campus?” Bryant laughed. “I was all for this stupid plan when we were talking about creating havoc and screwing with people, but fighting? Putting our necks on the line? What's in this for Olivia Price?”

  Olivia's gaze unwittingly slid my way for a moment.

  But Bryant was looking through the trees, over the grassy central circle, to the Administration Building. He gave an unpleasant laugh. “You got war bonds or political plots riding on this? Mommy set you up to make us martyrs?”

  “You are released from your commitment, Bryant. Leave your scarf. Go hide.” Olivia turned to Dagfinn's group, turning her back on Bryant and hiding her expression. But the magical and emotional feedback from her was overwhelming—violence, drowning sorrow, rage, love, determination.

  “Oh, you can bet I'm going. Those already trapped are as good as dead anyway. You are the idiots who are going to die with them.” Bryant dropped his scarf and made a rude gesture at Olivia, then swept it across the air to encompass the rest of us before disappearing into the foliage surrounding the swamp.

  “Anyone else?” Olivia asked. Silence greeted her.

  Delia's gaze was fixed on Olivia. A few moments later Bryant's scarf flew through the air and landed in her hand.

  Neph put a hand on Olivia's arm. Silent communication passed between them—I didn't know whether they were not including everyone else, or not including me specifically. The communication magic in the scarves was based on Frequency design, and the intent of the speaker directed the message to an individual, three people, a select team, the whole group—or everyone except for one person.

  A moment later, Neph ran toward the nearest flagpole.

  “A perimeter ward was breached on the Eighteenth Circle for five minutes,” Saf said, manipulating the section of air filled with code, maps, and the magic that they were all working with—normal magic, not magic drawn from me. “It was closed again—the magic changed and reinforced—but we might be able to break through.”

  Olivia nodded briskly. “The combat mages and the Department will be looking for any entry point onto campus.”

  At the base of the mountain, far below the student levels, we could see flashes of fire and color. People fighting.

  “The campus ports and mage-made travel options are closed. It will take fifteen minutes to get to the Eighteenth Circle through the natural travel systems,” Lifen said, pointing at the Blarjack Swamp, a natural port that didn't rely on Administrative Magic. “And that doesn't take into account how long traversing the Midlands will take or the fact that the enemy is on the Seventeenth Circle, and likely guarding the hole they created, even if it's patched.”

  Hundreds of yards away, Neph was doing complicated magic around the flagpoles. The magic flowed in a current from one flagpole to the next.

  “I'll check the perimeter ward,” I said, already moving.

  Olivia grabbed my arm. “No. Lifen's right. There are undoubtedly guards positioned there. And we need you elsewhere.” Her mouth pinched unhappily.

  Everyone looked uneasily between us. I couldn't even imagine what they were thinking—no blips of emotion were coming through the scarves. Everyone except for me was a frequency user already, and they had adapted to using the scarf communication properties quickly and easily.

  “I'll be fast. Someone has to check the ward who knows it,” I said.

  “I'll do it,” a new, but familiar voice said.

  Everyone spun to see Constantine casually leaning with his back against a tree at the edge of the swamp.

  “What are you doing here?” Olivia demanded. Then her gaze swung to me. “No, I know what he is doing here.”

  I held up a hand in apology. “He is helpful?”

  “Are you insane?” she hissed.

  Constantine smiled. “I'll do it, Price. Unless you want to send Crown while you continue to drain her?”

  Olivia smiled thinly, which meant she was livid. She hadn't liked it when I'd insisted on hooking the communication spells of the scarves into my magic, but Olivia didn't waste resources, and she well knew I could function at far lower energy levels than this. Dagfinn's open channel was taking most of the load now, too, which was far better than expected.

  At least something was exceeding expectations. Because for all of the stress relief and fun Plan Fifty-two had become, we had not prepared for an incursion—especially not one that would rely solely upon us to solve.

  I had been worried about monsters, yes. Anxious about keeping campus safe, most definitely. Actual emotional preparation for a military assault of campus with no combat mages, no teachers, no Troop, and no backup? No. Not even close.

  We had been far more certain that a creature rampaging the grounds or some diabolical magic getting out of control would be our problem. And we hadn't planned for what exactly a Red Alert would mean.

  Olivia had implemented Plan Fifty-two in order to manage my stress level—this had never been a war strategy.

  Constantine didn't wait for Olivia to respond. “Give me the extra scarf. I'l
l check the perimeter ward on the Eighteenth Circle immediately and try to reopen the breach. On my magic, I so do vow.”

  For a moment the only sound was of the Blarjack swimming around the swamp—waiting for one of us to jump in so it could catch a meaty two-legged meal. Everyone stared, dumbfounded, at Constantine as the Contract Magic, still perfectly in effect as natural magic, settled around his shoulders and bound him to the promise.

  “Fine. Give him the scarf, Delia,” Olivia said. “Perhaps the enemy will save us the trouble and take care of Leandred permanently.”

  Constantine's expression didn't change, but something satisfied settled in the connection I could feel to him. He took the scarf from Delia, then strode to the edge of the swamp.

  Constantine was... Well, Constantine was a lot of things, but putting himself on the line as a scout was out of character.

  He winked at me over his shoulder, then threw powder into the water. The Blarjack recoiled and dove away. Constantine stepped on the speckled black water, and his coat flared out as he was sucked inside the natural port. The black water sealed over the top of him.

  “Ren,” Olivia snapped. “Pay attention.”

  Rocked and conflicted, I tore my gaze away from the empty space where Constantine had stood. “Sorry.”

  “Dagfinn?”

  “They have six of the eight communications already open, live, and frozen—two Department heads, the three Council members of the Alliance, one ambassador. Waiting on one more Department head, and the eighth comm is a frequency to Roald Bailey's office.”

  Bellacia's dad—the head of the major news networks.

  “Based on the connection time of the others, we have three minutes max until the last two are up,” Dagfinn said.

  “Five hundred and eleven foreign signatures detected on all non-Midlands levels,” Saf said, magic curling like swarming fireflies in the afternoon air as he populated the mountain hologram with each relevant dot.

  “Fine, we have three minutes, five hundred plus professional combatants, and eighteen of us,” Olivia said.

  Someone in the back whispered that we were all going to die.

  “Which means we must be smart,” Olivia said briskly. “Best case scenario is that Vincent Godfrey performs another long-winded, tedious speech and we free everyone while he is windbagging.”

  “We should get the teachers out first,” someone said. “And the staff, so they can reactivate the Administrative Magic.”

  “No,” Olivia said harshly. “Think. What will Godfrey do if the Administration Building is freed, defenses go back up, and the teachers come streaking down the mountain? Or, if whatever forces are fighting at the bottom of the mountain make it through? What does an animal do when you corner him next to the self-destruct button?”

  “They'll kill everyone at the battle fields,” I said numbly. I thought of Raphael. “Probably blow the dome completely hoping to take down the mountain. The perfect statement.”

  More than one person winced. It was hard to concentrate on the flurry of the others' responses over the beat of my throbbing pulse.

  Olivia nodded sharply. “The dome around the stands at the battle fields must be dealt with first, then the Administration Building, then the Magiaduct. We have only one thing on our side—the element of surprise.”

  “They are Origin Domes, Price,” someone said. “What do you want us to do to them?”

  “They are made of magic,” Olivia said briskly, undaunted. “And we are all criminally exceptional magic users. Figure it out.”

  Saf looked up from what he was doing and the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled in pleasure.

  “Beta Team, you are on the Administration Building,” Olivia said. “Figure out the dome's magic without triggering it. Use whatever is needed to free the professors and staff after we get the students at the battle fields released. Once the field dome goes down...it's going to be a bloodbath. I have no idea how they got the Administration Building and the Administration Magic locked down so completely, but freeing the adults as soon as possible after that is our absolute best bet for campus to survive.”

  For most of our classmates to survive.

  No one said that, but Beta Team nodded grimly.

  Minus Bryant, Beta was in full force as a result of the call I had made preceding my visit to Marsgrove. And Alpha was in full force due to the personal alarm sent through my scarf when I had been with Marsgrove.

  Both teams had been mobilizing on the grounds when the domes had been raised. Unfortunately, most of the Delta, Gamma, and Epsilon members were trapped under the domes with the rest of the student body. The six with us were the only ones free.

  “Remaining members of Delta, Gamma, and Epsilon, go to the dorms. Same procedure there. Figure out the magic to free our classmates after the battle field dome is taken care of. Round up stragglers to help.” She pointed at the twenty or so mages who had gathered around us while we'd been speaking—students who had been walking the grounds or in other buildings when the domes had gone up, and who were now desperately looking for information. “Take them with you and get them to gather others. Form chant circles. If you see soldiers, hide and spring the traps we spread.”

  Olivia pointed at her scarf. “We have people on the inside who can hear this and they are already working on their ends. The Justice Squad got the warning before their communications were suppressed, and most of them are not stupid, so they should be working on a plan from the inside. Look for areas in the domes that can be weakened by striking from both sides. Our people will figure out their part.”

  Everyone nodded.

  “Alpha Team deals with him.” She pointed at the hologram of Godfrey. “Ren?”

  I nodded, flexing my fingers. They were only trembling a little now. “Ready.”

  “The third Department head is online,” Dagfinn announced. “Just waiting for Bailey now. His secretary is in tears trying to explain how even though Bailey always answers his frequency immediately, that right now he is in a non-magic zone, but will be out in two minutes.”

  “Roald Bailey is never without a frequency connection.” Olivia smiled unpleasantly. “He should have been the first to answer. He's stalling, which means Bellacia got a communication through before the domes went up. She was monitoring us, or more likely, Ren. Something good came of her incessant snooping for once.”

  “Price, eight units are splitting off from the main force and are heading up campus in a compass sweep,” Dagfinn said. “They noticed our magic use. They are planning to put down all pockets of resistance that they find. They are using a copy of an Administrative spell to locate students in groups.”

  Everyone exchanged grim looks.

  “Use the scarves,” Olivia said. “Keep slightly scattered. We have two minutes to get in place. Everyone knows what to do.” Everyone nodded, packed up their things, and those kneeling on the ground stood. “Update any students or faculty you find. Hide and be smart. Three students won't attract attention. Seven might. Go!”

  Everyone except for Alpha Team, Saf, and Trick, sprinted away.

  Olivia turned to me. “Ready?”

  “Yes.” I held out my hand and Olivia grasped it. She pulled out a cord and started to wrap it awkwardly around our hands.

  It seemed almost ludicrous that we were doing this, but Contract Magic didn't care about emergencies and contingencies. The magic would make sure that we held up our end of the bargain now that Plan Fifty-two had been implemented. And it was better that we took a moment to control this now rather than let magic enact punishment at an inopportune time—like ten minutes from now when we were fighting for our lives.

  Trick stepped forward and held out a hand for the cord.

  Olivia looked at him sharply. “The magic will count you in our culpability.”

  “You'll never hear an O'Leary spin a finer tale then the one I will spin after this. You need a witness and we need to hurry.”

  “You don't have to—”

&
nbsp; “I'm pleased to do it, Your Majesty,” Trick said. He made a grabby hand motion for it, but waited for permission to touch the rope.

  “I—”

  Saf touched Olivia's shoulder. “He'll get it done.”

  Olivia's lips pinched, but she nodded and handed Patrick the cord that we had “borrowed” from the Law Department during a routine community service “cleaning” of the office building two days before. Patrick wrapped it quickly around our hands, then began reciting the words that would activate the binding in the scarves. All of the punishments and havoc that would be wreaked today by anyone wearing a scarf would be assigned to Olivia and me. It was part of the promise we had made in the contract signed by everyone participating in Plan Fifty-two.

  “Olivia,” Asafa said, “What was the code for the implementation spell again?”

  When Olivia looked at Asafa, Patrick's gaze slid to me. I nodded. His thumb slid along the cord, gripping it far more in my direction instead of at the midway point between Olivia and me that she had planned. It was an 80/20 accountability imbalance now to me.

  I would be getting expelled today.

  Patrick quickly finished the binding while Olivia's attention was on Asafa, then slid the cord smoothly free of our hands. “All done.”

  If Justice Toad could, he would have given a loud series of four croaks, registering the illegal use of the cord. Level Four Offense. I had looked it up when we'd decided on this plan. Using the cord had automatically earned me a trip to Provost Johnson's office and the review board.

  I looked at the Administration Building. I wished the trip was possible right now.

  Olivia looked at her hand strangely. If she had even a fraction of a minute to think about it, she would know what I had done. She didn't have that minute. “Okay, good. Thank you, Patrick. Now, go destroy.”

  Be safe.

  “We will be very, very bad, Your Majesty,” Patrick said with a wink. “Promise.”

  He gave a little bow, Asafa nodded to both of us, and the two of them strode quickly to join their Beta teammates who had already started casting diagnostics on the Administration Building from the shadows of a nearby structure.