by Anne Zoelle
“The stairwell will be held for thirty more seconds. Don't get caught.” Trick tipped a salute to me, as did Saf. “Ta, Crown.”
Neph touched my hand, and I felt her magic flowing into my palm—a little reservoir for when I needed it.
Ramirez looked between us, expression blank, then turned and looked at Dare, the real one. Dare tipped his head. Ramirez and the other Dare turned and slipped back through the door to Top Track.
Will and Mike nodded, then they too walked out, Neph behind them. I watched my double disappear.
As soon as we were alone, Dare pulled a heavy black garment out of one of the objects in his hands and threw it to me. “Put that on.”
I did so, quickly sticking my hands into the armholes, then crisscrossing the fabric to buckle along the edge of my body. I fumbled the red Legion pin—realizing what exactly I was putting on. The metal was cold beneath my fingers. They shook as I tried to latch it into place.
Dare reached over and drew the long hood over my head. “They aren't wearing these on campus. They are against the rules set forth by the officials earlier today. But we need them. They'll hide our magic and identity to any spells cast our way. And they will camouflage us to a certain extent so that we can travel by darkness. But we cannot be seen. And we cannot step too close to the edges of any shadows.”
I nodded quickly, not really understanding the danger associated with the edge of a shadow.
“All they need is a memory tag of our faces in these and we are done,” Dare said, hands pulling the hood tighter as he emphasized the words. He was shaded, rippling in my view from whatever property the cloak was providing. But his gaze was piercing as he forced mine to meet his through the water-like effect. “Worse than just slipping out of the Magiaduct during a lockdown, wearing these cloaks is an automatic detention. There will be no trial. They will take us both. The laws guarding us here will not exempt us if we are seen in these cloaks.”
“I get it. Seriously. I get it.”
He held my gaze for another loaded second, then nodded. “Let's go.”
We exited the stairway on the eighth floor, and walked past Loudon, Adrabi, and Delia. I could feel the shadows reaching down from the edges of the ceiling as we skimmed along the wall. I squeezed Delia's shoulder as I passed. She stiffened, then turned to the other two. “Okay, boys. Time to join the vigil.”
They turned left toward a stairwell further south, while we headed north.
The countdown timer indicated we had two minutes to get into position. Exiting back onto Top Track two hundred yards away from the others, I looked at every face we passed.
Their gazes slid right by us.
So far, so good.
Loudon had made it very clear that we had to use a grid panel that opened on its own. That we couldn't force one to stay open without leaving damning evidence behind. Fortunately, a Fibonacci pattern was programmed for the sequence. A spiral of magic lifting slowly into the air one firework at a time. The others had slotted in their distraction somehow—through some Community Magic trick that they were confident in.
Confidence was a large component in the game we were about to begin.
Our panel—the one Saf had indicated—was set to open in thirty seconds. In the generated sequence, it would open the moment after the panel some five hundred and twelve to our left lifted and let loose the boys' distraction.
Dare gripped my elbow. “There is darkness, and there are shadows. Avoid the shadows.”
I looked at him from the darkness of my hood and gave a firm smile. The kinship in the cloaks allowed us to see each other's faces.
Three, two, one...
A brilliant light burst five hundred yards to our left as the club's firework exploded in the air, and the crowd gasped in shock.
Our grid opened, and the waiting firework rushed into its spot, as we jammed the devices onto the ledge.
The murmur of the crowd grew louder.
The wind streamers shot like clear rainbows from the stones, in an arc buried in the treetops far beyond. The firework in our grid shot through the stone between our devices, and thrust up into the air.
“Go,” Dare said.
Someone yelled. But if everyone was watching our escape attempt instead of whatever distraction had been planned, it was far too late now.
I squeezed the device, and shot through the air along the beam, legs outstretched behind me as Mike had advised earlier—letting the force pull me like a diver, streamlined in an arcing plunge. Dare, gaining air beside me, looked like a dark wraith, wrapped in the cloak with the hood covering his features.
I could see the operatives below us, dots on the battle-torn green space of the Magiaduct's front lawn.
All gazes were fixed on a point far above the Magiaduct, and far to our left. Some of the Legion members even took a step in the direction of the light show.
As my body flew along the air current, I could see Kaine below. He was transfixed by the show and he looked...elated? I turned my head awkwardly to look at the firework. At the moving image.
At the visual reel of me fighting Christian under Raphael's dome.
Oh dear God. My concentration slipped, exactly as Mike had warned against, but I couldn't even process the feeling inside of me, as everything about me was in freefall. A gust of wind hit me, and I didn't even fight it.
They had chosen to show footage that hadn't made it into public view—of my golem, controlled by Raphael, but with my brother's face, fighting against me. Me, with my hands in the ground and paint splattered on my face. God. Everything—
I hit a tree, then hit the ground. Hands were beneath my arms and hauling me forward an instant later. Away from the Magiaduct and into the tree line. I could feel blood on my face. I was so tired of being bloody.
“How c—”
Dare's hand pressed firmly over my mouth and kept me moving.
How could they have shown that? Everyone would know. The paint. Everything.
The forest swam in my view, and the shadows shifted furiously. No.
I thought of Olivia and the expression on her face as she burst into a thousand lights, and pulled it together. The shadows were shifting deliberately.
I nodded against Dare's hand to show that I was fine, and he withdrew it, not needing extra incentive to increase our speed as we dodged through the trees.
What had been shown in the firework was over now. I couldn't control that anymore. I could control my part in not getting us caught.
I could see both wind streamers in Dare's hand as he shoved the boxes in his cloak. I mentally castigated myself—he'd saved me from plummeting to the ground, he'd deactivated both of our devices, then gotten us the hell out of Dodge.
Yeah, doing this without Dare would have been a bad idea.
I'd had a panic attack during the attack on campus, watching everyone around me being killed, and I'd just experienced a smaller one now. Two in one very traumatic day. Clearly, I was going to need to deal with that.
And that wasn't taking into account how I'd gone off the rails and nearly ended everyone when I thought Olivia had died.
This day was truly shaping into one to remember.
Heightened fight response and adrenaline kicked in at a response to my need and my senses narrowed in on a shadow shifting in the distance.
Pain spiked. Using even that amount of magic hurt.
I swallowed it down and grabbed Dare's arm in warning, pressing against his side as we continued to run. He immediately went with the motion, hooking an arm around me, and whirling us behind the next tree.
The edges of the darkness, bleeding into the illumination of the fireworks, grew longer fingers.
I looked up into the lower canopy of branches, and forced my breath not to breach my lips.
The air shifted on the other side of our tree and the shadowy fingers grew sharper. A human predator was hunting us.
Someone hadn't taken the bait. And I'd bet everything on who it was.
&nb
sp; I just hoped the cloak I was wearing hid the frantic beat of my heart.
Dare carefully pulled something out of the pocket of his cloak, then held it up. The small paper phoenix that I had made for him sat on his palm. But it was looking less papery and far more feathery. It blinked and its body turned Midnight blue. It streaked upward into the boughs of the trees, circled a branch, then swept to the left.
A feeling skated over my skin—a sudden vacuum of space—then the knife-sharpened shadows released and shot after the phoenix, tendrils of shadows reaching upward and outward from the branches, trying to catch the little being in their grip.
My breath was coming in short pants, and I tried to deepen the inhales.
I had created the phoenix to keep Dare safe in the Midlands—or at least the location and status of his body safe. I had designed it as a learning creation, though, drawing on the free magic from campus and the chaos magic in the Midlands for its intelligence and memory. The phoenix had either learned some new tricks on its own, or Dare had taught it some.
I had seen it eat magic in order to save Dare during the battle. So for all I knew, it might start breathing fire any moment.
I rubbed my forearm. Maybe...I was a little scary.
Dare didn't need to nudge me this time, we both took off at a dead run toward the ninth circle. None of the arches were currently active on the mountain. They were dormant in order to keep any lingering bad guys from staying hidden by jumping around campus. But Delia had given us the locations of two natural root paths that, on our current trajectory, would get us to the Midlands fastest.
The first one was easy to negotiate, but the second required us to run a hundred yards across more open space.
Fifty yards in, I spotted Kaine cutting through the shadows.
“Come out, come out, little rabbits.”
He knew we were here. And I could see that this was Kaine, doing what he did best. Terror and concealment. A nightmare wrapped up in a law enforcement robe. Appearing like death's hand to deliver a forever sleep.
Fireworks lit up the air above the trees, obliterating some shadows and shifting others.
But no one knew campus better than Dare.
He pushed me off course, and we ducked under a tree that housed feral raccoonkeys, then across a stone path that came alive if you stepped on the correct sequence.
Kaine swore behind us and said, “Both sides, three point two formation, now.”
Adrenaline pumped, painfully pushing past a few of the looser blocks in my magic. Kaine was not alone. It had been very explicitly stated what would happen to us if we were caught. Not good, not good.
Dare whipped out a hand and a device appeared in his hand. A shadow on our right fell. Another zigzagged in front and Dare bowed briefly, a blade sweeping across the space of his stomach.
“Lovely, lovely,” Kaine said, in a voice as insane as Raphael's, but, to me, far more terrifying.
Raphael was the monster I knew.
Dare whipped his hand left and a root burst from the earth and more than one shadow shrieked.
But it wasn't Kaine's shadow. Kaine's magic felt effortless, toying.
A pit of shadow, smoke, and fire rose in front of us.
Millimeters of air thinned under Kaine's thin, sweeping fingers, as they brushed the edge of my hood. Dare grabbed me around the waist, twisting us as we launched forward, then disappeared into the concealed opening between two roots.
Inky blackness, moss, splinters, then root-laden ground.
I fell heavily on top of Dare. But adrenaline was still pumping and I scrambled forward, knees digging into his stomach and thighs, in order to launch myself toward the large wooden knot on the heaviest root, three feet away. I slapped it with my palm as Delia had instructed.
The edges of the wood cavern, at the base of the tree we'd just been spewed from, spiraled and sealed shut. Flames should, at this moment, be lighting the pants off every one of the shadows trying to follow our path.
I pressed my hand against my mouth to stop the insane urge to laugh. If it issued forth, it would be high-pitched and hysterical, and the last free sound I would make.
Dare appeared in my view, and I could feel his hands on both of my cheeks. He didn't say anything, but his grip grounded me, gaze boring into mine. His image firmed, and the hysteria subsided, leaving behind an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. I nodded.
The edge of the Midlands was...thicker. As if the chaos was being penned into place.
Not good.
The Midlands served as the area where all of the magical backlashes that occurred on campus—and in the civilian areas at the base of the mountain—got sorted out and the magic “cleaned” so it could be repurposed without unfortunate elements gunking up the works.
We sprinted into the gloom.
Chapter Sixteen: The Midlands
Hunting the Midlands with Dare was familiar, but whereas, in the past, there had been an almost unreality to the danger, now it was fraught with peril of a far different kind.
The Okai tile appeared immediately, recognizing me even with my magic dampened, and we wasted no time stepping onto it. Dare knew it appeared for me instantaneously, and had, obviously, counted on exactly that occurring during our time-ticking trip here.
The tile whirled away in a fairground twirl that left my innards lurching. As soon as it connected up to the next tile, though, I withdrew Dagfinn's device from my pocket and started digging in the dirt of the connecting tile to the right.
Dare's brows rose.
“Yes, I've been told it's highly illegal, yada, yada.” I continued to dig furiously with my blunt nails.
Dare sighed, and a moment later a perfect hole was bored in the ground.
“Awesome. Thanks.” I stuck the silver device inside, activated it, and quickly scooped dirt on top, patting it down. I leaned back and the tile slipped away.
“I, uh, told the others that we would clean up some of the magic trails around campus.” I ran a dirty hand down the back of my hood. “That seems a little silly, in retrospect.”
“We'll figure something out,” he said. “Come on.”
I brushed off my clothes as we headed toward Okai. The Gothic and Classical mix of architecture seemed even more of an anomaly than usual, both freaky and inviting.
On the front steps, the vine undulated like a cobra. Its vibrant green skin gleamed as it swayed, leafy arms fluttering in a mesmerizing wave.
Gloves appeared on Dare’s hands as he walked toward it with sure steps. The vine weaved back and forth. And, though it allowed Dare to lift it by its throat, it did so almost reluctantly as if reminding him he was not its master.
There was something very off-putting about the magic and intentions I could feel from the carnivorous plant.
But taking care of it was one of the tasks that had to be completed, so I said nothing as Dare followed me up the short stairs.
I unmuted my armband and exclamations immediately greeted me, piling on top of each other as everyone wanted to know what was happening.
Steps one and two complete, I sent. There was a small mental cheer and Dagfinn gave a whoop. Going dark again. A number of fervent good lucks echoed as I muted the armband again to all voices except Dare.
Placing my hand upon the door to Okai, the knob glowed and I turned it. Dare slipped inside behind me, and placed the vine on the floor as I closed the door.
I drew back my hood, and Guard Rock and Guard Friend converged on me immediately.
Guard Rock made a number of sharp motions with his pencil. I crouched in front of him and he waved his pencil, pointing and clicking it against the ground as he moved his hands and feet then thumped a wall with a solid thud.
“He tried to get in? You didn't let him?”
Guard Rock thrust out his rock, puffing his chest. Guard Friend hovered near him.
I touched both of their rocks. “Thank you.”
I turned to look up at Dare, who was staring down with a compl
etely unreadable expression.
“Raphael tried to enter again—he entered successfully, once before, when he stole my dolls and golem—but this time they repelled him with help from the building.” I looked around. “Either because he was in Emrys's form and didn't have access to his full magic through the golem—or because the magic here listened when I was upset last time, and prevented him from entering this time even with him carrying my Awakening paint.”
The building was spooky like that.
“Probably the building. It was constructed by an Origin Mage,” he added, at my questioning look.
I looked around the room with new eyes. It didn't feel like Kinsky's painting.
Dare tilted his head. “You didn't know.” His deep brown hair shifted on his forehead as he shook his head. “Of course you didn't.”
I rubbed my temples. That knowledge was something I'd have to mull later. “The extent of things that you expect me to know sometimes is a little unreasonable.”
“Not if you want to survive.”
I looked up to retort, but my response died on my lips. Dare was kneeling down and inspecting the rocks.
Guard Rock puffed up like a sentry under a superior's inspection. But his spear was also twitching with uncertainty toward both the vine and Dare.
“He has good instincts,” Dare said.
“Because he isn't sure about trusting you?”
Unlike his response to Will, who due to Raphael's sorcery—and unwillingly, mine—was seen as a threat by any creation of mine made with my Awakening paint. The rocks always wanted to push him into my Awakening sketch to be turned into Christian's vessel sacrifice.
But it wasn't like Guard Rock's response to Neph, either, who the rocks adored, or to Olivia, who they mostly ignored. The response to Dare was the response to a predator and a general.
Dare reached out a finger and touched the top of Guard Rock's pencil spear. It went rigid and Guard Rock stood the straightest I'd ever seen him.
“Don't ensorcel my friends,” I said.
He smiled and rose, but then his gaze fell on the papers scattered on the ground and his smile slipped. He stalked the edges of the papers, then crouched down and scanned them with a piercing gaze. The gloves returned to his hands.