The Protection of Ren Crown (63 page)

The dome rippled, and thousands of gasps and shouts resounded, then abruptly silenced. The silence was horrible. The scarves horrifyingly went silent with them. I felt the ripple of magic over my skin as the magic of the dome pressed
down.
I shuddered and concentrated.

“Oh, already some casualties,” Godfrey mused aloud. “Dropping like flies in there. You aren't a very hardy lot in the Second Layer, are you? Hmmm...and the dwindling magic inside is making resurrections taxing for your best and brightest.”

“Stop this, Vincent,” Constantine's father said, his voice steady even as the expression in his eyes was not. “This will not end well for you. This is a battle that can only be won politically, not through violence.”

“Unlike the rest of the Alliance, you do practice what you preach, Stuart Leandred. Sacrificing your own revenge on the altar of politics has bought these students eighty seconds more. Ten seconds for each of your eight years of lost vengeance. What will you do with those eighty seconds? Will you save them?”

He released the spell and air and magic filtered back into the dome.

“Mike,” I said. There was no more time.

Mike nodded jerkily and a thin breeze drifted between his fingers as the papers lifted.

“Will, I need you to—” I pointed between the three of us, trying to convey my need. Will snapped forward and activated a lesser form of our magic share ritual. It would guide Mike to where the papers needed to go by using the intentions in my magic. And once the papers were locked in place, the dome would sustain itself.

Olivia crouched at my side, legs in position, ready to run. “You do this, then we jump back to the Fifteenth Circle immediately,” she said grimly. She closed her eyes, and without waiting for our response, touched her scarf, activating it again. “Alpha is implementing on the Seventeenth. Ten seconds. We can wait no longer. Everyone get ready...and may Magic be our ally.”

“What say you, Madam Price?” Godfrey taunted. “What is eighty seconds—seventy now—in the scale of our negotiations?”

“You, and
every
Third Layer citizen will be held accountable for each death that happens today,” Helen Price said. “And we
will
find out who helped you.”

Godfrey smiled at the eight faces. “That might prove an unpleasant surprise for some of you.”

With Will's direction forming a conduit between the two of us, Mike lightly placed the first three papers.

The gaze of the dangerous looking man—Stavros—who stood next to Helen Price abruptly shifted to look at the paper that had just settled into the north position. His posture stilled, making his projection static, then he immediately started scanning the grounds in a very dissecting and disquieting way. He didn't even pretend interest in the proceedings any more. He was trying to track the magic back to a source. A shiver of unease ran over me.

The fourth paper hovered in place.

“Shall we try our negotiations again, Council members of the Alliance?”

Mike settled the fifth paper on top. I shut my eyes and activated the mental pyramid that would connect them.

I wanted this. This would
happen.

And just like that, the magic of Kinsky's papers clicked into place, blazing gold. A smooth rumble of thunder sounded overhead, shuddering through me in response. Unlike the one beneath it, my protection dome felt
right.

“Go, go, let's go!” Olivia hissed and grabbed my arm. Delia, Neph, Will, and Mike were already up and running.

Godfrey's gaze snapped to the dome and one of his minions sent a line of copper magic toward it. As soon as the line touched, the man dropped like a stone—like Marsgrove's secretary, cut from her strings.

Fierce, primitive satisfaction made my knees shake as I sprinted toward the stump with my friends. The ten thousand students at the battle field were
secured.
I could hear voices shouting and cheering in my head via my scarf. It was only three small jumps back up and a sprint to the Administration Building.
We could make it. We could save everyone.

The stump—our exit out—exploded. And Delia, who had been vaulting toward it, flew backward into Mike.

Chapter Thirty-four: Demons from a Checkered Past

The grove burst around us. Rose, silver, and gold leaves rained upon our skin. The sunlight reflected the shimmers and the leaves fell almost in slow motion. It would have been beautiful in any other event.

I pulled all magic back into my shield set. Voices in the scarves stuttered.

A force hooked around my waist and violently tugged. I went flying back through the air, my friends along with me. Mike cut his hand downward through the unnatural wind current and we abruptly dropped fifteen yards from Godfrey's feet. It was only the barest bit better than
at
Godfrey's feet.

“What do we have here.”

The six of us drew together and rose, all shields active.

“The Dare scion's pet,” Godfrey said, voice still magnified, eyes narrowed at me. “I was shown your face, but you were supposed to be taken care of.” He turned to four soldiers at his side. “One by one to four,” he said cryptically.

Then he motioned abruptly to the minion who had gotten the communications up.

Helen Price's virtual eyes narrowed briefly on her daughter, then the feeds to the outside world went abruptly dark—the eight holograms and all of the hijacked feeds vanished.

“Don't worry,” Godfrey said, smiling unpleasantly at us. “We'll get them back online after you've been dealt with and after whatever miserably small magic you just put in place is removed. Then we'll make a proper example out of you. Until then, five units, go to Plan B. Verisetti may want to coddle whatever pets he has here, but I've wanted to obliterate this mountain for the
longest
time.”

A hundred soldiers headed for the stairs to Sixteen.

“
Track them, Saf. Everyone, head to wherever they are going.”
Olivia's mouth didn't move, but her voice echoed thinly through my scarf, dominating the panic that had taken hold through our communications.

We really were all going to die.

The trapped—now
secured
—students started emptying the stands, freed from whatever magic had kept them in their seats beneath the dome. Would they survive the destruction of the mountain? Droves of them ran to stand at the edges of the now-doubled dome. Some wore mystified expressions, many looked fiercely determined, and five in the front had distinctive scarves wrapped around their throats. They stared at us.

There was no port—natural or mage activated—for us to run to.

Bellacia and Inessa pushed forward to stand with our scarf-wearing members under the dome. Bellacia's narrowed gaze connected with mine.

“Now why don't you start by telling me where you got that magic?” Godfrey said, striding our way, and forcing all attention back to him. Soldiers numbering in the hundreds spread out behind him, and two dozen were already moving to surround the six of us.

“No,” Olivia said, and activated every “security” measure we had put into place on the Seventeenth—hoping to hinder the five units going to Plan B, hoping to give us time to get the hell out of our current predicament.

Snares, compulsions, and nightmares burst upward. Music to ensnare the senses, dreams to trap the unwary, personal storms that hit and battered, impulses to sleep for a thousand years, false games that played against whoever tripped the magic, desires and unrequited needs forced up and demanding completion.

We turned and ran, dodging through the illusions and traps. The nearest soldiers to us were immediately snared. Dozens more followed the first wave into nightmares. A hologram replaying the Freespar competition was doing the best job, as a number of the soldiers thought the combat mages had suddenly appeared.

But it was a fleeting win, and we had nowhere to go. We ran alongside the front face of the dome, hoping to move around it enough to put a curve between us and the enemy. Solemn faces watched us as we sprinted past. With the grove gone, the nearest natural port was now miles away. A shouted command from Olivia caused us to veer left as fire and lightning rained down on the troops. Our teams at the Magiaduct and Top Circle were working together to form the magic.

But the soldiers were
battle hardened
fighters. They raised a stronger shield. And each fallen soldier was quickly revived and released by comrades. Five
hundred
soldiers accustomed to working and fighting together.

And for all our planning, we had barely touched the Seventeenth Circle. Everyone lived and played on the top of the mountain, above the Midlands, most of the time. We had booby-trapped the
hell
out of the first six levels, expecting any huge monster fight to be held there. Hindsight was cruel.

Mike went down first—was
cut
down in a long red arc—his shield like warmed butter to whatever knife had been cast. His thread snapped directly from my chest, leaving ice in its place. I touched my chest, trying to weave it back.

Delia dropped to his side and immediately started resuscitation procedures.

We surrounded them and put all energy into our shields.

A spell bounced off mine, but Neph winced as something hit her arm. I stepped out front and pushed more magic into my shields, spreading them larger. A flurry of spells flew all at once, battering, testing, and threatening the mixed shield set gifted to me by enemies. Raphael and Marsgrove did excellent work. But even their magic would eventually fail.

Godfrey threw none of the magic aimed our way. He simply stood in the midst of the barrage directing his forces.

Voices shouted through the spells in the scarves, silent to Godfrey’s ears, but a cacophony in mine. Our allies fighting up top, those watching remotely through the brooch on Olivia's scarf, and the ones under the dome with a firsthand view were all yelling—directions, expletives, enchantments—punctuating the jarring barrage of magic hitting us.

Godfrey cut a hand through the air and the onslaught stopped along with the steps of the soldiers.

“Aren't you the little Excelsine spitfires, ready to join your comrades bathing in Third Layer blood. But that was merely a taste. A promise. Let's try my question again,” Godfrey said, gaze never leaving me, even though Olivia had been the one to answer in the negative the first time.

Answer or die—his unvoiced message was clear.

“No,” I said.

In a slash of almond brown, a pinpointed slice of magic curved around my shield and Delia fell across Mike's chest. Her thread to me snapped too. Neph and Will immediately began resurrections on both as I tried to curve my shields around all of us.

“
Olivia, Ren, those units are heading to the Midlands. Do you copy?
” Asafa yelled. “
The processor in the—
”

“You won't be able to save them,” Godfrey said, smiling. “No matter what you do.”

I blinked at the sudden white spots in my vision—born from fury at his confident words. The spots tunneled into a vortex and a too-crisp picture replaced my view. Emotion ceased.

A cold smile rose in me, and from under my leather bracelet, I casually withdrew the stamp Constantine had given me for my birthday. I held it between my fingertips and rolled onto the balls of my feet. Equations and diagrams coldly snapped together with doodled schematics and intention.

Throw magic my way, Vincent Godfrey, so that I may end you.

“Ren,” Olivia said under her breath. “Your shields will hold for the time needed to reach Sixteen. You can run and make it.
Go
.”
Abandon us and release the Administration Building,
Olivia's voice urged silently through my scarf.

I held still, poised and emotionless, my magic on the pinpoint of my mental pyramid. The twelve pictures I had drawn on the stamp material two nights ago, while Constantine had watched, were awaiting activation, depending on what I chose to do. And the single drop of paint I had placed inside swirled, waiting as well.

Godfrey's gaze narrowed on Olivia, as if drawn there by her whisper. “Do my eyes deceive me? Is this the
Price
spawn standing before us? What a truly glorious day. We'll deal with you
publicly.
”

Magic flashed from one of Godfrey's minions. Will fell, and the thread between us started to unravel. Seconds were ticking a cold, dead beat in my head, approaching one minute for Mike, thirty seconds for Delia, and ten for Will. Nine minutes remained on the ten minute resurrection clock.

They would never make it if I ran to Top Circle. And there were plenty of public ways for Godfrey to make sure they could never be resurrected, no matter how much time remained for them.

“Bring them back, Neph,” I said mechanically. “No matter what.”

“
Run!
” Olivia's mental voice shouted.

“I'm tired of waiting,” Godfrey warned. “I will give you a choice for how you die.”

I had a choice. All I needed was a piece of the enemy's magic.
Godfrey's
magic. A key. And a personal taunt to get it. I activated the two wards I needed while pulling my fingers against my chest.

“We don't deal with losers who can't even keep their Layer safe,” I said harshly.

Godfrey threw the bolt
instantly.
A sweet citrus hue. I didn't care what horrible thing it was going to do. It was
mine
now.

Fifteen other bolts flew with Godfrey's. The shifting chessboard settled into a single move.

“
Ren
—!”

I mentally released Kinsky's papers and the protective covering over the dome fell, leaving only Godfrey's dome behind.

I whipped my hand to the left, then right and the stamp extended in both directions in front of us like liquid mercury soaring through the air before snapping into an eight-foot banner. The sixteen combined beams of magic were sucked inside, activating the first ward. I twirled like Neph had taught me to do in order to keep magic active and constant, and the banner snapped and recoiled into a ball that I immediately threw at the dome containing ten thousand of our classmates. Just like tossing footballs with Christian in the backyard.