The Rise of Ren Crown (35 page)

I slammed the bedroom door closed.

Clenching my fists and breathing heavily, I marched over to my bed. Was it worse or better for me to be here while their group was meeting? I shut my eyes. Whatever. Too late. One hour here now. One hour later.

I secured my things with a protection ward, and aggressively pulled Bellacia's streaming headlines into reach. Screw Oakley, Bailey, and their crew.

News reports soon scrolled every wall. Another Third Layer facility had been hit by the Legion. And a list of all the locations the praetorians had been spotted flashed for my attention.

I quickly absorbed those, and admitted temporary defeat—no news source, not even Bellacia's, had any mention of Marsgrove or Raphael being seen.

I touched one of the scrolls labeled “Campus: Live!” and a surveillance feed opened up. Someone had set a spell mimicking a drone on top of the Magiaduct, and it was circling the superstructure, giving a live, rotating view of the levels on either side. There were still members of the Legion, the praetorians, and troops from the surrounding countries visible all around the Magaiduct. But the latter were growing thinner in number, as the searches around campus were completed and the areas pronounced clear.

I touched another scroll labeled, “Campus: Report!” which indicated that the Magiaduct would be re-opened at Cancer Rising—six in the evening on the twenty-four hour clock.

The combat mages, it was reported, were leaving at the same time.

I closed my eyes, squeezing them tight.

I'd be able to get to the library and, maybe, the art vault. But I'd lose Dare.

I touched another scroll that said, “Latest on the Loss Report!”

Olivia's picture flashed, making me jerk upright.

Listed beneath her image was the message,
Have you seen her?
Beneath that different methods of magical spotting were encouraged—gazing, printing, casting—along with numbers to call with information generated from each method.

The whispers about her being missing had started shortly after the battle, and had been confirmed with the student listings that chronicled critical, missing, or dead students. Most of the missing students had been magically transferred to one of the other lists as campus sweeps had taken place and bodies had been recovered.

Olivia was one of fifteen students who remained on the missing list the day after Bloody Tuesday.

There were a few groups dedicated to finding the missing students through gazing and other magical means. Eight had been identified hiding in their Second Layer homes, having somehow successfully escaped through the lower levels of campus during the chaos. Suspicions and rumors had been raised over
how
they had escaped, but nothing definitive had been discerned.

Three of the other missing students were hiding in their
Third Layer
homes. Students who had slipped by peer notice of being “Thirdies” and who had retreated in the wake of worrying that they would be harassed about their birth layer. Or who had been
allowed
to escape.

The final four students had proven to be beyond magical detection. One of those was Olivia.

I tightened my hand around the origami balloon.

Helen Price, meanwhile, had capitalized politically on her missing daughter—just as Olivia had known she would. She was maintaining a brave facade, denouncing the Third Layer, the terrorists, and the school's capability to protect itself.

“It wasn't someone on our watch, of course,” Helen Price said to the interviewer. “It was someone who infiltrated the Troop who had already been cleared at Excelsine. In the direct aftermath of the attack, we found the body of Emrys Norr in a bunker under his home. Why the officials at the school didn't recognize that he was not the same person, I cannot speculate.”

“Wasn't the Troop your pick for Excelsine's security?” the interviewer asked.

Helen lifted a brow. “Our pick? No. The officials at the school required
aide
after the unexplained events of the previous term. We offered Legion protection, but Excelsine chose the option of having the Troop. It's really been one blow after another for Excelsine's security. More and more, I'm coming to realize that it would be better for the educational system for the Department to oversee it in its entirety. We need a managing body. These are our
children
.”

My fingers clenched so hard that my pencil snapped. Half-truths wrapped around past manipulations. She was making it sound as if the administration had made one poor decision after another, instead of being forced to pick between three bad options—two of which had the Department all over campus, and the other that had the Troop providing security for a week.

“Look at Excelsine, in particular, and their actions over the past few months. What is it that the school's officials have to hide? Why are they trying to prevent a security body from looking at administrative information? If everything is legal at Excelsine, why are they choosing to hinder routine investigations?

“If something isn't done, I'm not sure I can send my child back once she is returned.”

My control cuff compressed around my wrist. I had enough magic back, that without it managing me, I would have blown up the entire hologram device.

“Speaking of your daughter—”

But I couldn't listen to any more. I punched off the feed with shaking fingers. I was far too furious.

Being Bellacia's roommate gave me firsthand access to every broadcast and piece of news—some before they went live. It was an unexpected benefit of living with the enemy.

And an unexpected downfall, as I sat shaking on my bed.

Bellacia slipped inside the room. I pulled all of the spells into my hand and pitched them toward the recycling grate in the floor.

“Oh, Ren, there's no need to hide anything.” She twirled a number of news articles around her fingers, pinching them together, then splaying them out. The spell seemed to be looking for connections in my previous searches. “Archelon Kaine,” “Raphael Verisetti,” “Phillip Marsgrove,” “Olivia Price,” “Helen Price,” and “Enton Stavros” all popped up. She twisted two fingers, and another report formed.

My breath seemed to be coming faster.

“Whatever is the matter, Ren? You seem to be concerned over something?”

I grabbed my bag.

“It's only been an hour,” she called out.

“Yup.”

I walked out the door, slamming it shut behind me.

The door five down from hers opened before I reached it.

Chapter Twenty-five: Civilized Couch Warfare

Constantine gave me a look. I sighed as I walked inside. He closed the door behind me.

Dare appeared in the doorway of his workroom.

“Hi.” I wiped a hand over my face, looking between them. “I just...couldn't stay there longer than an hour.”

“You are welcome here,” Dare said, hands stretched to either side of the doorframe. His gaze narrowed on Constantine, then turned to me. “Stay as long as you want.”

With the two of them prowling around each other?

“I've already witnessed enough bloodshed this week,” I said ruefully. “I'll go to Neph's.”

Though for some odd reason, I was already dropping into a chair, limp with relief, and my legs were lifting up on an ottoman that hadn't been there seconds before. I stared at my feet for a moment, then shook my head.

I let my head fall back on the club chair. Just a minute or two. I'd just stay here for a minute or two, then I'd go to Neph's.

Little bolts of magic were zipping along the edges of the room where the walls met the ceiling. I stared at them, watching the colors meet and meld or travel alongside each other. A week ago, two
days
ago, none of this magic had been freely flowing through the living room. Whatever else had happened in the interim, Constantine and Dare had put aside their hatred long enough to allow the wards free rein in the suite. The wards that shut the other off from their individual work rooms were still there, but even those wards were...laxer.

Perhaps it had to do with Medical, and the two of them being separated overnight. Or perhaps it was what had been set up for the competition, and finally turned on. I had asked, after all this roommate insanity had come to light. All of the combat mages' rooms had been hooked into receiving extra Community Magic for the week, so their roommates wouldn't be adversely affected. The same way that Olivia had gone without a roommate for long stretches of time.

The emergency procedures in place now didn't allow for those dispensations, unfortunately. Though, Bellacia and I were benefiting from that extra magic in Room Twenty-five.

I nestled into the chair a little more. Constantine and Dare's magic was highly sympathetic to mine, but in a natural, organic way. As evidenced in Medical—we could probably overpower the grid given time.

There was a larger, active power boost in Bellacia's room, because whatever she had done to secure me as a roommate, worked. But it was an artificial feeling.

My eyes started to slip shut, as they'd been unable to do for the last hour in a place where I had to watch my back. I had only been awake for four hours, but I felt like, were circumstances different, I could sleep for a week.

“We will limit the bloodshed for the next few hours,” Dare said dryly, though in a more serious tone than anticipated.

The “home” connection reached outward toward their wards. My eyes shot open and I aggressively reeled it back in.

“Why?” I said, trying to cover my actions.

Dare raised a brow, and I quickly added to my statement, “Not why on the bloodshed, why on the invitation to camp out on your couch? I
can
go to Neph's.”

Even though my feet weren't currently moving me in that direction.

Neph's roommate didn't like me—probably was terrified of me now—but Neph would invite me in anyway.

Will and Mike's would be a fine alternative, as well, though our magic was neutrally sympathetic, and those news reports had increased my urge to heal
faster
.

“Have your muse come here,” Dare said. “The room magic is helping you.” He pointed to the zips of magic which had doubled since I last looked. “Helping you
slowly
, which is supposed to be the point of healing.”

The expression on his face said he knew what I'd been thinking.

I shrugged.

“So, what did lovely Bellacia do?” Constantine asked. His lips indicated that he was amused, but his eyes were steely and...anticipatory.

I waved a weary hand. “Nothing. The normal. She keeps recording everything I do in there. She's exhausting. And she's probably right—I will be kicked out of here within a week. She'll have it all magicked up neatly too with pyrotechnics—
Bulletin at Nine, Wicked Girl Gone, Our Layer Saved!
”

I tipped my head back. “What happens if I
don't
stay there for my allotted twelve hours? I'll embrace a few hundred justice hits.”

Neither of them responded vocally.

Dare's gaze strayed to the wards, then to Constantine. Constantine tipped his head and looked smug for a moment. Smugness turned to fury at whatever Dare mentally conveyed to him.

“You think it will always work out the way you want it to,” Constantine said out loud, anger underlying every word. “Frequency flash—
Alexander Dare does not always get what he wants
.”

“You're being a child.”

Whatever Constantine said in return was mental, but one finger jabbed in my direction. Both of their expressions turned pinched and unpleasant, the kind that happened in a heated argument. Sneering, in Constantine's case and lethal, in Dare's. But after a moment, their demeanors changed and they both gave short nods to each other.

“Do it,” Dare said grimly.

Constantine's grin turned unholy.

They both turned to me.

I started humming the Twilight Zone theme music.

At their twin blank stares, I sighed and quit. “Never mind. What did you two just agree on? And, may I say how freaky it is that you two communicate somehow?”

Constantine turned on his heel, unholy grin still lifting his lips. “I think the word you are looking for is
unfortunate.
I'll be back, darling.”

I blinked at him. “Where are you going?”

“Just down to Medical,” he said lightly. “Have to check in, you know.”

I didn't know. He
was
probably going to Medical—Constantine didn't lie usually, you just had to ferret the truth from his words. This likely meant he was going there, but not
only
for a check in.

“Okay, be sketchy.”

“It is my best side.”

As he walked toward the door, his clothes flipped into something far more tailored to a business event. Constantine was
expensive.
Everything about him reflected extraordinary wealth, even his dressed down clothes. But he usually wasn't dressed in the equivalent of a business suit.

Extra sketchy.

He left with a rude gesture to Dare and a blown kiss to me. Dare's face was shuttered as he looked at the closed door.

“Thanks for the sandwich,” I blurted.

The edges of his lips lifted in amusement as he turned back to me. “That's what you are going to go with?”

“Yup. I would have starved without you.”

He reached inside their magic fridge and threw a wrapped package to me. I unrolled a crunchy veggie wrap. There were a few unidentifiable vegetables inside—the Second Layer had a lot more purples and pinks in their veggie options—but it tasted fine.

“Make sure to eat.” He pressed a finger against my arm. A little diagnostic appeared above it—
magic level 33%.

Considerably better than expected, but still a strong third away from feeling like I could keep things together without Dare on campus.

“You can boost that up another fifteen percent,” he said, “If you eat three more meals before midnight.”

I nodded sagely. “Feeding me after midnight makes monsters.”

“You aren't a monster, Ren,” he said, gaze intense.

“Thanks, Alexander.” I sighed and took a bite. I wondered how much Second Layer pop culture
I
missed in conversation.