by Anne Zoelle
Patrick smiled. “We'll give them more hell than they can handle, Crown.”
I smiled. It felt wobbly.
“We'll need someone to replace Wakes,” Kita said, all business once more. She was a large part of the reason the business ventures undertaken by a number of the mages at the table were flourishing. “Replace him completely. He's smart, and I don't think you want him knowing any part of the plan. He'll piece the rest together and we've seen that he will act on it.”
Jordan reluctantly nodded. “She's right.”
“We'll still protect Wakes too, though,” I said. “He was part of our team. We'll just figure out a way to give him the protection where he won't question it.”
The Community Magic strengthened even more. I blinked, and looked around. The expressions around the table looked more determined now, oddly enough.
“If Crown is going to the Third Layer, she's going to need Wakes' expertise.”
“I can get her through Outlaw Territory and get her the cuff she needs for the Third Layer,” Delia said, gaze daring anyone to say anything about how.
“Sounds great, Delia,” Saf said, smiling gently.
“Crown will need containers, though. I know a few guys, but—” Dagfinn shrugged. “They aren't completely trustworthy.”
Containers?
“I have someone who can handle that,” I said. “Don't worry about that aspect.”
Patrick lifted a brow.
“Constantine.” I rubbed the inside of my left elbow. “He can do whatever is needed with them.”
He was ideally suited for any task that involved our continued presence in the world of the living. But containers neatly fell under the materials banner, and at materials, Constantine was unequivocally the best.
“And, uh, he's going to be coming with me,” I added poorly. There wasn't a great way to say it, really. I knew what people thought of Constantine, and he deserved most of it.
There were a flurry of immediate objections, unsurprisingly, but Patrick's expression barely shifted. He seemed to understand far more than I intended to share. The death of Constantine's mother had been huge news, I'd discovered over the past few days. That Constantine would want to hunt down the person responsible, Patrick seemed to implicitly understand.
The son of a mobster—I was beginning to see it more.
He tapped a finger on a device. “He hates Price.”
I couldn't deny that, but I made a negative motion with my head. “He has sworn to help. He, too, will keep his promises.”
Patrick continued to watch me, eyes taking in all of my nonverbal expressions. “Bring him by later.”
I nodded, and we moved on to how to fool the Legion long enough to let me slip by.
“Might be time to start brushing up on on-campus terrorism, lads and lasses,” Patrick said, rubbing his hands together. “The Department needs a little reminder of why they shouldn't be here. And, that, I have a lot of family experience at.”
“If we do it, it will set back campus freedom,” someone said, grimly. “They'll have more excuse to stay around.”
The others joined in, each person at the table issuing a shot.
“We could make the terror personal.”
“Make it so that anyone with a student ID is perfectly safe, and that only intruders are targeted.”
“Make it seem like campus is fighting back.”
“Make campus fight back. Show that we can defend ourselves.”
“Can we change the identification spells?”
I thought of the Justice Squad meeting, and answered, “Someone from the Justice Squad did it. A mage named Travers. He formed a Justice Magic Negative Field?”
Dagfinn's eyes lit. Jordan nodded. “Yeah, we saw him do that outside the Magiaduct. He used the Administration cache. I think he might...be persuaded to point us in the right direction. From a purely academic standpoint.”
“Funny thing, that.” Patrick's gaze slid to me. “The Justice Squad has been particularly easy on us, the last few days.” More than one gaze shifted my way. “All that business under the domes teaming up together through you has put them in a much more genial position. At least for the temporary present.”
“The thing Travers did, he did say that the praetorians weren't affected,” I warned.
“There's a difference between the Praetorian Guard and the Legion.” Dagfinn pointed a finger at me. “The praetorians use spells that the Legion is not authorized to use, and only one praetorian remains.”
“If we access the Administrative cache, we can focus the chaos to follow interlopers.” Asafa looked thoughtful. “Not very friendly of Excelsine, but it would suit our purposes for a focused amount of time.”
“And make it very personal.” Patrick smiled, a bit maliciously.
Asafa exchanged a look with him, and a silent back-and-forth exchange occurred.
Asafa touched two fingers together. “I've got an idea for the praetorian too. But it'll only work once.”
“Once is all we need.”
Chapter Thirty-seven: In Between
Neph, Will, Mike, Delia, and I were holed up in Constantine's living room going over a number of plans and magic when he walked through the door.
He stopped just inside the entrance and started undoing the closures of his expensive coat that wrapped around his throat. He examined each of them, then said, “Honey, I'm home,” in a deadpan voice.
I rolled my eyes. Neph had been here more than once in the past few days, and I had been given direct permission to have people come by.
Mike gave a long-suffering sigh and gathered their materials. “We'll get the items and see you in thirty, Ren.”
Constantine leaned against the wall as they left. Delia gave him a glare thickly drawn in kohl. Will gave him a cheerful greeting, because Will was just that awesome. Neph barely spared Constantine a glance as she gracefully walked from the room.
Mike pulled the door closed behind them, but not before giving me a pointed glance.
I sighed. “You are expected at a meeting in thirty minutes in Trick and Saf's room.”
Constantine pushed away from the wall, and his gaze was back to its normal dichotomy of lazy and piercing. “Your little band of miscreants said they'd help?”
I pulled my ponytail over my shoulder and tugged on it. “Yes, and I told them you were coming with me. They want to have you come in for a chat.”
“The ones with you at the Blarjack Swamp?”
“Yes. All of the ones that were there are in, along with a dozen others.”
“Only you would buddy up with an O'Leary.” He half-smiled. “Most of campus just participates in his betting, sporting, and gaming schemes and leaves dealing with him to business transactions or ways to ingratiate themselves with the family.”
“Patrick is nice.”
“No, he is not. But that is not the argument at hand.”
“Is it going to be a problem?”
“Between O'Leary and me? No. We know how to deal with each other. It is simply cleaner to stay far from each other's orbits. Like knows like.” He smiled coldly.
“Great.”
“How did your little muse take the news?”
“Don't call her that,” I said tiredly.
“You chose well, all things considered,” he said, eyes narrowed on the wall. “The Baus are powerful, and Nephthys Bau is said to be more powerful than most. You could still do better, on a general basis, with access to more muses. It would be far more in your control. You understand that, right? Da Vinci had nine in his rotation. And they were happy to have the smallest part of him.”
“I'm pretty okay with my status quo.” I didn't need nine muses. I liked my single one just fine.
Though, the thing about power was a little unsettling, and called to mind a larger fact that I usually tried to ignore. How did it happen that I had surrounded myself with, or put myself in the path of, the children of power players from all sides?
“Power speaks to power, darl
ing, and draws it together for good or ill.”
“Stop reading my mind, Con.”
“And curtail my favorite pastime?” he said, unrepentant. “I think not. Your power is an all-consuming net that you drag around behind you, trapping each of us within it. Gathering us to you.”
Stricken by his words, I could say nothing.
One dark brow rose. “This is the power of the gods, darling. Only you would think it a deficit.” He leaned in. “With one little leech-leash to connect us...the responsibility can be out of your hands...”
I pushed at his chest and he smirked back at me as he allowed himself to be moved.
“I'm not giving up Neph,” I said, returning to the previous conversation.
“Any fool can see that, darling.” He looked at me through dark eyes. “You don't give up people, ever.”
~*~
Constantine nodded at Saf, far more pleasantly than he did at Trick.
Asafa was as magically gifted as Patrick, but he used his power in far different ways. Where Patrick was puckish, compelling, and, at times, mean, Asafa was strong and solid and trustworthy. They made a powerful combination.
Watching Constantine interact with the rest of the group was...interesting. Barbed, edged, but with enough respect to keep things from being militant. We were a pack of wild dogs. But as soon as the bite-snapping and butt-sniffing got sorted out, we got back to business.
Since the green flag had been waved on this mad plan, all forces had mobilized as only a bunch of crazy people who dealt with hundreds of their own mad plans could do.
Assignments and magic plans flew around the table, some of them shoring up what we'd brainstormed previously, and others offering new, better alternatives.
“Getting off campus and to the Third Layer is not a problem,” Constantine said, bored. “Hiding the disturbance from the Legion is. They will know immediately something has happened.”
Patrick's eyes glittered. “How are you getting off campus?”
“That's really not your concern, O'Leary,” Constantine said lazily. “You have your tasks, I have mine.”
When it came to how we would stay accounted for on campus is when things got tricky.
“They'll have the diversion magic fixed in fifteen minutes, tops. And after the diversion, they'll personally look for Crown,” Loudon said. “She'll be on the shortlist of people they check physically to ensure she's still here.”
“Bau will take care of Ren's presence on campus, and I will not be missed,” Constantine said, in an almost bored fashion.
Neph stiffened. “I'm going with Ren.”
“You can't,” Saf said, not unkindly. “Not if we are to hold the Excelsine fort and not hand ourselves over to the Department.”
I gave Neph's hand a squeeze, willing her to relax. I hadn't realized that her continuous calm in the face of dangerous plans might have come about because she thought she was coming too.
Safe. Protect everyone here. I'll return.
I carefully made sure not to make keeping everyone safe a direct order this time, though.
“The fewer people who go, the better,” Loudon said frankly. “We just don't have the systems in place to trick the Administration Magic on a mass scale. Not with the Department watching.”
Patrick nodded, eyes sharp. “And Leandred can slip out of anything. That's the perk of his father's position and status. You get caught, Crown, he'll go free. You won't. And none of the rest of us would either.”
Constantine was smiling his bored smile, but it wasn't reflected internally. Fury and bitterness waved through him, then were sharply contained.
“So how many hours does that give us?” Mike asked, bringing the conversation back.
“Ren has to spend twelve hours of a twenty-four period with Bailey, right?” Saf said. “So that gives us, twelve hours to work with, probably less due to timing constraints with the diversion.”
“I, uh, um, I am actually rooming with Constantine and Alexander?”
I didn't know why Bellacia had chosen to keep it secret—whether she would suffer somehow socially or whether she was using it for other, more diabolical ends—but it was absolutely one of the best kept secrets on campus, something that no one outside of the Alpha team and Administration knew.
Silence met that pronouncement. A moment later, munits exchanged hands.
“Wait, you bet on, what exactly?” I asked, floored.
“Just on whether rumors were true,” Trick said smoothly, obviously lying. “So, you'll be with Leandred on this little sojourn, that'll help. How many hours?”
“I don't know how the jacking between rooms works if we aren't in any of them, but I have to spend four hours at Bellacia's.”
“Let's continue with twelve then, to be safe. A nice sturdy number. Crown?”
I smiled tightly. “I'll get it done.”
“That's for getting back here too. Even if for some reason Bailey completely sat on her hands and wished you good luck, the system would alert Medical and the Administration. And we know the Department is monitoring those alerts.”
“You can't be discovered,” Dagfinn said.
“That would be an error, yes.” Constantine's tone was bored again.
“Leandred...” There was warning in Patrick's tone.
“O'Leary, do you think I will fail at my task?” Constantine's ribbon was in his hand again, pulling slowly through his fingers.
Patrick's eyes narrowed. “The problem is, I'm not exactly sure what your task is.”
Constantine smiled. It was cutting and sharp. “I will return Price and Crown safely and secretly back to campus. Price can be found aimlessly wandering the Midlands, cut off from getting back to the Magiaduct by the Department's spells. A number of students released from the battle field dome ran straight into the Midlands. Forces were dedicated just to rescuing them in the after-hours. The Legion cleared the Midlands. A nice hit for the Department in the media, especially if you spin it against her mother.”
Looks were exchanged.
“We'll want assurance.”
“Of course.” Constantine dripped boredom. He slid something over to Patrick. I tried to get a look at it, but it was illegible, hidden by an enchantment.
Patrick's expression changed abruptly, the distrust falling away and his normal edge of brilliant mania returning.
He clapped his hands together. “Everything seems to be in order.”
Patrick's pronouncement seemed to be the catalyst for everyone else accepting Constantine into our plans.
Everyone but the Alpha group, who still looked at Constantine with suspicion. But I was pretty sure that was due to other reasons.
Chapter Thirty-eight: Fighting in Two Places
It was a little like planning for a mission to the First Layer. In both places, we couldn't use magic like we could in the Second. But unlike the First Layer, the Third Layer did have magic. On the flipside, using magic in the First Layer didn't cause the layer to attack back.
So, treating the Third Layer like it was the First gave me somewhat of an advantage. I had lived for seventeen years without magic. Putting magic into containers and devices felt remarkably similar to using computers and tablets to affect the world around me.
We were gearing up hard for Saturday. There were a few loose items I had still had to deal with, though.
First, I sent a message to Isaiah asking to be released from Community Service for a few days. Just until my “celebrity” was no longer affecting the Justice System. I cited a list of reasons why this was a good idea, backed up with solid evidence. The Justice Magic would trigger, if I was listed on rotation and didn't show.
The message back was all Isaiah — “You're a valuable member. We'll see you back on the squad on Monday, Crown.”
I patted Justice Toad and set him on the chair's side table.
Second on my list, I visited Room Twenty-five, and took a moment to soak in the remnants of home and Olivia. I closed my eyes. The remnan
ts were growing weaker, stale, like a room that hadn't been aired.
I grabbed a number of things from my secret stashes, including a few of my more powerful storage papers, and, with a silent vow, headed back to Dorm One.
Third, I sent a note to my parents. I rubbed my chest as I wrote about all the new things I was learning to do at school—protection wards, news spells, and healing magic. Everything's great! See you soon!
My chest hurt as I sent it, and I had to field an abrupt call from Neph demanding to know if I was okay.
Number four on my agenda—I needed to figure out a way into the Battle Building.
That one, was strangely solved when I walked past Axer's workroom, and the door gave a click. I stared at it, then fished their room key from my pocket. I slowly pushed it toward the lock, and when nothing attacked me, I slotted the key into place.
The door opened, and the white room greeted me. I stared at it for a moment, then pulled the door slowly shut again. When the key exited the lock, the wards snapped back into place.
I tapped the key against my palm. Interesting.
With the knowledge that I could access Axer's workroom, I fished out Draeger's cartridge from deep within my duffel bag. Tapping it against my thigh, I opened the door to his workroom again and stepped inside. Surrounded by white walls, I pulled the cartridge slowly along the walls of the room, hoping. A slot appeared.
Yes!
The Eighth and Ninth Circles were still closed to students, and I'd been itching to get into the Battle Building to practice Third Layer tactics.
When Draeger appeared with his shaved head, barrel chest, and knee-high athletic socks, I threw myself in his holographic direction.
“What's this, Cadet? Why is it so thin in here? And what the hog's tendons have you been doing?” He asked as he glowered, paging through my magic and stats as only a construct magically designed to read me could do.
“Giving those squirrels hell,” I said.
He gruffly allowed me to hug him, but the magic here wasn't as strong as in the Battle Building. My arms passed right through.
“Come on, Cadet,” he said gruffly, but not without affection. “Let's see what we can do to get you back in working shape.”
