by Anne Zoelle
“You should continue it,” Olivia said. “The Department took your results and they are working on modifications.”
Will stared blankly at her. “What?”
“You didn't think they flunked the project and buried it, did you?”
“Yes.”
“You should never show the Department your best game, William. They steal everything that has merit.” She smiled coldly. “My Mother is a high ranking official there.”
I suddenly couldn't breathe. Olivia knew...no, it would be ok. And if it wasn't, I deserved whatever punishment was demanded.
I needed to make provisions for the people in my life, though—the people around me. So they wouldn't be taken down with me. I let a portion of my mind work on the details as I listened to Olivia.
“She absolutely loathes you. If you didn't know.” Olivia's nails clicked against her desk, her voice unconcerned. “No one vaporizes Helen Price's clothes and lives to tell the tale. She will try to hire you and make your life hell. She is an excellent game maker and spinner. You have merit and she hates you, there is nothing she likes more than that combination.”
Olivia's cold smile after that statement prompted a subject change.
I quickly spread out Mbozi's class notes and outlined the four person containment spell, then we decided to move to Will's room in Dorm Twenty to go over his project. Mike had been called home immediately by his overprotective magical parents, so we wouldn't be disturbed.
Upon entering, my eyes went to the sword on Will's wall and something in the back of my head vibrated. Christian? I sent the inquiry out more than a little desperately. But no response was returned. Just a faint buzz of...something. Something I couldn't place.
After a few hours, we had a decent plan in place that worked to all our strengths. Will's ingenuity, Nephthys's grace and balance, Olivia's iron will, and my...craziness. Being feral..and possibly other...actually figured beautifully into the resolution. Of course, being feral with freaky abilities had also contributed to the problem. So it was really just a matter of using my abilities to fix the problem I'd caused.
“I should go alone.” My shoulders were tight. “Tonight. I don't want any of you hurt, and it doesn't matter what happens to me.”
Olivia gave me a frosty look. “I will think you stupid if you continue that train of thought. We are going tomorrow night. Not tonight. It is foolish to go when all the medical support is exhausted and unable to help, should we require care. You can sleep on your guilt tonight, if you feel like being masochistic.” She shrugged. “Though I see no reason you should feel guilt. There were some good, sound tests recorded in your notebook. And useless, weak mages shouldn't be here if they can't cut it defensively. Whether you cull the herd or others do, is unimportant.”
Nephthys's face was blank. Smoothly blank. Will was trying to keep his face blank too, but wasn't succeeding as well.
“Er, Ren,” he said. “I agree that tomorrow makes far more sense. You aren't going to conduct any necromancy experiments or binding spells tonight. Since those are what cause the problems, we should have a period of rest, and it is better to get this right the first time.”
The last was too true. “Ok.”
“And we are all going. Together. So don't make me tie you to a chair.”
~*~
Campus looked worse in the morning. The bright rising sunlight showed the damage to the buildings, trees, and the mountainside itself—some structures had been totally demolished while large chunks were missing from others. Dark brown stains marked the grass and path.
The cheerful morning bird songs seemed deliberately offensive.
Students in outrageously green outfits were speaking in low tones about how to regrow and regenerate the flora by the end of the weekend. Students in crisp white shirts and khakis were looking at blueprints and plat maps.
But the disturbing mages were the older men and women in black who held devices over the areas, taking readings and making notes. I avoided all contact with them, choosing to use an accessible arch that took me in the opposite direction I needed to travel—down a level instead of up—but it took me all the way to the other side of the mountain, away from the crime scene.
I walked up from there to join the emergency strategic meeting of battle and justice mages. When I walked in, a few people were already clumped together discussing strategies.
“We must find the problem's origin and deal with it swiftly,” Camille Straught said. My lips pulled into a tight line unwillingly. “You are adamant, Isaiah, that it is a magical focus, but I, for one, am not so sure.”
“I know that well, Camille, and you should present your findings to the squads, as should everyone who has a report. But without proof, being an alarmist is not going to solve our situation.”
He turned to the rest of the room, which was now far fuller, people having filtered in around me.
“Ok, folks. You've probably seen the Department's CSI division on campus already,” Isaiah said. “And the high officials will be coming for a campus audit in two weeks, after finals and the break for winter solstice.”
Which basically meant I had two weeks of freedom remaining in my life.
“You will all be expected to report and receive assignments the night before winter term begins. We will be tasked with interviewing the student population.”
Mutterings grew in volume. Isaiah held up a hand.
“I know. Everyone wants the problem fixed before the Department takes over. So let’s show the Department that we are on top of things.”
“It's a matter of campus and academic pride!” A boy said.
“The reputation of the Academy is at stake,” a girl said.
I didn't care much about that aspect. I was more worried about the death, destruction, and enslavement part.
However, even though the mages around me were speaking of pride and reputation, the underlying worry was for their way of life. For their layer of the world and all the people inhabiting it. For what was happening outside of the campus bubble, was reflected inside of it with this trouble. But worry for the world...was just beginning to touch me. I had come into this world fighting for my brother, and any other struggle had been far out of focus.
“Let's do a quick recap, then break into groups.”
I inched over to the kitchenette and made a manual cup of tea as people outlined the last seven and a half weeks' worth of campus events along with eye-witnessed holograms. Knowledge of a few of the events was new to me, but I recognized my stamp on each of them.
Mages getting pummeled, running for their lives, having their spells explode.
Captain Destructo. I swallowed heavily, wishing it were Christian uttering the dig inside my head instead of my brain trying to recreate the sound of his voice.
I carefully carried my mug to a corner seat in back, hoping to blend in with the wallpaper there. Since I had been the definitive outsider on the Justice Squad since day one, it was possible that I could disappear in the room full of people. I was the only community service offender serving currently, and because of my earlier offenses, many on the real squad still thought I was a hopeless junkie. Isaiah was the only one I'd call a friend and he was assuredly going to be supervising.
I didn't know, and had never worked with the combat mages before yesterday, but I was pretty sure being on Camille Straught's work team would not be a good thing for me.
Besides, I was going to fix this whole mess with the friends I had allowed to be embroiled. Whatever was decided here wasn't going to impact our success unless the squads got in our way.
People started to break into groups. I bent my head down and blew cool air on my hot tea, focusing my thoughts and magic on making people's eyes slide past me.
Alexander Dare appeared suddenly in front of me. Startled, my magic exploded, and I threw my tea in his face. The air shimmered between us, and I looked at the tea leaves dripping from where his cheek would be, if not for the thin, nearly clear shield he had quickly erected
. His base shields were fully pulsing again. I wondered why I could still see them.
I also wondered if he had started creating that thin top shield because of his prior experiences with me. The shield dropped, releasing the leaves and liquid to the floor. One sweep of his hand and the mess was gone.
I looked at the clean floor in envy. Far more useful than using magical cleaning products. I didn't have a tenth of the knowledge and control required to do what he had so effortlessly done.
“What the hell discipline do you study?” he demanded.
“Art,” I squeaked.
“Why are you here?” He swept a hand to indicate the meeting room which was now completely composed of groups of four to six mages, barring the two of us. People started looking our way, curious.
“I like turning people into toads?”
He put both hands on my table, leaning into my space, and I felt embarrassing, conflicting urges to both lean closer and push farther away.
“This job is not a joke.” His deep, smooth voice was intense.
“I...I know,” I said quietly.
I didn't know much about him socially—a crush didn't dictate that I needed to—but I was intimately familiar with one of his core values. He was someone who helped others, no matter the cost. A warrior who protected those in need. His helping me that night so long ago—someone without magic, on the brink of death, easily left as a casualty—by using a stash of magic that he might have needed to protect himself from terrorist predators scouting the First Layer, said everything about his desire and willingness to protect.
His actions yesterday had only confirmed those thoughts.
He studied me for long moments, both of us staring at each other in silence. “Why do you feel familiar?” It was a demanding statement rather than an absent question.
Heat traveled through me. “Um, because I keep trying to ruin your wardrobe?”
His eyes were hard and searching. I felt stripped apart. “You have power. I can feel it. It was obvious yesterday. It has been every—” He clamped his lips together. “You can help us,” he said finally, voice low.
“I'm trying,” I said quietly. “I am giving it my full attention, I promise you.” My mess, my job to clean up. “I just think better on my own. I'll join up with whatever is decided.”
“What were those rocks made of?”
I needed to be very, very careful. This was the boy who had saved me, yes. But also the one who had family who hunted people like me. I was surrounded by people who would be horrified—terrified of me—if they knew what I suspected to be true.
“They were pieces of the beast your team struck off.”
“There was something on them.”
I had no idea what had happened after I'd died. But I was pretty sure it must have happened quickly. Less than ten minutes, to be sure, since I was still breathing. And I was betting more in the neighborhood of ten seconds. “Dirt?”
“A pattern.”
“A pattern of dirt? Or cracks that formed after the bone fragments separated from the body? To reform, the monster didn't seem to need the chip fragments until you blasted it.”
In fact, with some Monday morning quarterbacking and time to think, he would likely have destroyed the monster on his own with one more of those strikes. He had been breaking the particles down.
Without his shields, though, he might not have survived the last strike to do so. And that he might not survive had been my sole thought.
I shrugged, trying to look casual. “Maybe the magic in the bone fragments morphed or cracked upon separation. The eyes were different and didn't possess the same magic screen. I took a guess and picked the pieces up.”
“You draw that kind of patterned thing. I've seen it on your notebooks.”
Everything in me went into red alert mode—sirens screaming, and little people jumping down poles and ladders to man battle stations.
I nodded, sweat gathering in my hairline. “They are just repetitive doodles.” Did he notice things about everyone? Or was I in the “security threat, keep an eye on her” category?
His hands were still on my tabletop, his eyes far too close as they dissected me. “Second question—how did you get in front of me and push me back? There is no port spot there.”
“There were people porting mages out all over the place.”
“They were carrying them to port spots. Traveling magic is restricted on the mountain for security reasons. No one can do what you did.”
I put my hand to my forehead and leaned back. I tried to remember how to breathe. “Listen, I don't know, ok.” It was true. “The wards must have been down. Magic pushed me to you. You were able to kill the creature. I'm a little tired.”
Christian, I'm sorry. So, so sorry. It’s my fault, all of it, even if the decision was the correct one.
Alexander Dare's Last Judgment eyes surveyed me, likely reading my black soul, then he nodded shortly and pushed away from the table. “Fine. But you're with us.”
He returned to his five person group, who were going over plans and looking at schematics.
Camille Straught was watching me, arms crossed, considering. Great. But at least she had been dead too and hadn't seen me being freakish.
Dare looked back at me, his expression clearly telling me to hop to it. I dragged myself to their group, which thankfully, thankfully, drew Peters, then everyone else in the room, to form a larger group around them.
Because of the formation of one large group—and the people who were eager to offer suggestions and prove themselves to the core battle mages, offering suggestion upon suggestion with barely a breath between—I was able to slowly edge my way back to the perimeter. I discovered exactly when and where everyone was going to search, then escaped—citing overwhelming magical death exhaustion to Isaiah.
But I could feel more than one pair of eyes follow me out.
~*~
Constantine was on the path walking toward us as our merry band of four headed for our mission to the Midlands. His footsteps slowed. He took in our motley little group one by one, then tilted his head at me. “Interesting.”
He proceeded to ignore the others and stepped forward, holding out a hand. I had no idea what he was doing, but I held out mine as well. His long fingers slipped over mine, leaving a folded sheet of paper and a small rock in my palm.
“Have a productive afternoon, Crown.”
I nodded and slipped the items into my pocket as he sauntered off. The paper was the last storage box I had given him, obviously. But the rock? I turned to see the other three staring at me in various ways. Will looked astonished. Neph looked faintly amused. Olivia looked irritated.
“I question your taste, Ren.” She resumed walking.
I surreptitiously stuck my hand into the paper box in my pocket and removed the slip of paper. It simply said, “Fortress.”
I would bet anything that this word combined with the rock would downgrade the offense level we were about to perform—a boon we desperately needed. A Level Three was pretty standard for the Midlands. A Level Four called for double squad attention and might attract some of the Department spooks still floating around the upper levels.
I was going to have to buy Constantine some quality olives.
~*~
It didn't take long to find Okai. It was practically singing its call to me.
I had to talk Guard Rock and his companion down from attacking the others, surprisingly. The rocks finally, grudgingly, moved to the side, but Guard Rock kept his stick at the ready. Oddly, he kept it pointed specifically at Will.
But that wasn't the truly alarming thing. The golem was gone. My statues and dolls were gone. I checked to see if everything else was in its place, but my empty vessels were also gone. If they hadn't been empty, I would have said they had up and walked away.
I looked at Guard Rock, who quickly pantomimed that they really had walked out the door and he and Guard Friend had been unable to hold them in.
Fract
ured thoughts about war czars and golem armies marched around in my brain.
Meanwhile, Olivia, Neph, and Will looked around my workspace, then as one turned back to me.
“Yes?” I asked nervously, freaked out. Could they see that I had lost a legion of empty dolls and vessels?
Will frowned. “Let me get this straight. You work here?”
“Yes?”
“You’ve had a secret lair for weeks without telling me?!”
Neph elbowed him. “It wouldn't have qualified as a secret lair then. Besides, it's in the Midlands.”
“You have a secret lair without me.” He crossed his arms grumpily.
Olivia's tapping foot registered.
I stepped forward. “Let me just grab a shard, then we can go.” I needed to get them out of here and figure out what had happened to my creations. Nothing was going right.
~*~
It took us four hours to form the correct ritual circle half-inside and half-outside of the Midlands border—on an area of the ninth and tenth circles that was densely populated with trees instead of humans. As soon as we positioned ourselves correctly, everything clicked. Our magic wrapped harmoniously together over Will's device and the virtual drawing I had made of the upper half of the mountain. Nephthys chanted words of purification, then Olivia guided the tendrils unerringly through the swirling chaos magic and through the sword I had created for Will.
Our team worked well together. Will and I had neutral magic sympathy, but the sword, being made of my magic, was a bridge. Neph had already “mused” me, and Olivia and I were highly sympathetic. Our four person ritual to clean up my magic was diamond hard in its strength.
Will pointed the blade toward the mirror shard, which absorbed the energy as we untwisted and settled the magic around us, sending the chaos swirling into the glass. The plan was to repeat the cleanse tomorrow, then to leave the shard on the edge of the Midlands to be found.
Since Isaiah had already presented the idea that the problem was likely a focal object, and the group had centered the discussion upon it, the shard was exactly what the squads were looking to find. Between now and tomorrow, the four of us would permanently clean up the problem and provide the focus for them to find, all in one item.
