by Anne Zoelle
I nervously walked over to join him. Kinsky's papers had slipped into the building and were scattered across the floor. On the pages were figures of men, bent and broken.
I wiped a shaking hand down my face. I didn't want to know if they were alive or dead. Outside of the heat of battle, I didn't want to see what I had wrought.
“How many?” I asked.
“Twenty-two, maybe a few more if there are bodies completely hidden beneath others.”
I gagged.
But Dare was completely unperturbed by the papers and their contents. If anything, his eyes were gleaming.
Then again, he was the one who had given the papers to me—right before he'd let us be attacked by a monster. I wasn't the only one who was a little scary on this campus.
“There's a preservation charm.” He pointed to the way all of the figures were stock still on the pages. “Which is good news for them. Their ten minutes won't start until they are released.”
“Can we release them like the trolls and Hydra?”
“Can you?” He looked at me through the hair that had fallen into his eyes.
I tested my magic. Okai hummed around me. “Better here, I think. But, it's still pretty stoppered.”
He gave his head a shake and I was treated to an unobscured view again. “Not here. The fewer links to this building, the better. And better to let someone else heal and...debrief them. I have a way to do it—a way anyone other than you would discourage.”
He frowned at my workbench. He rose, and I raised my hands in an 'I haven't done anything yet' gesture.
He stepped forward and visually scanned the projects on the workbenches, quickly cataloging everything. His gaze drifted over the glass shards in the scrap and cleaning box. I nervously brushed aside a few of the more concerning projects—the leashes, leeches, and part of Will's latest portal design.
I could see Dare looking for something specifically, but I didn't know what.
“Leandred doesn't work here,” he said. There was a lot of Constantine's magic here, because a number of the projects we worked on together ended up here for safe keeping, but there was no remnant of him here personally.
“No.” I shrugged. “Will calls this our secret lab. We go to Consta—to your room,” I amended. “When we work with him, then bring things back here.”
He speared me with a look. “Some of—”
“Yeah, I know, I know. Let's just get Olivia back, then you can all castigate me together.”
A shuffling sound along the floor had me turning my head.
The vine was slithering toward me, weaving back-and-forth in the air as it drew closer, mesmerizing.
It launched itself forward and sunk barbed fangs into my skin. Swearing, I tried to shake it off, but the vine clung on. Then, just as abruptly as it had taken hold of me, it let go, barfed up everything it had swallowed on Top Circle—plus additional things that were unidentifiable in the midst of the green goo coating it all—dove under a table, then shot up the stairs.
“What...?” I didn't even know what question to ask, as I clutched my bloody arm against my stomach.
Dare was staring up the staircase, expression flat. “It's going to figure out how to get back to the Fourth Layer on its own—even though creatures can't escape the Midlands.”
He lifted my bitten arm and pulled a finger over the wounds. They closed up.
I shook out my arm, clenching and releasing my fingers. “You got it from the Fourth Layer?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Just in case.” He prowled around the mess, then carefully formed a ball of magic and dropped it over the whole thing, encasing it all in a blue field. He made a motion and the entire mass lifted. The mess settled on top of a workbench area free of clutter.
Inside the mess, bones and other objects stuck up at odd angles.
“The good news is that it coughed up all the magic used earlier,” he said.
“What? Like owl pellets of magic?”
“Something like that.”
“It eats magic?”
“Sort of.”
The blue field dissipated. I gingerly sifted through the remains and lifted the tube of paint and Constantine's stamp. Green magic goo dripped from them.
“Great.” I propped them against the wall at the back of the table and hoped the goo wasn't going to form into a living Blob or something. Things like that happened here.
Then again, maybe I'd get blob matter out of it. Bright side.
Dare reached forward and lifted the stamp, then flung it outward like a Frisbee without the release. It unfurled into the air, a banner absolutely gleaming with the spent magic of Godfrey and his minions. All the magic thrown at me, I'd balled up in Constantine's stamp, then thrown at Godfrey's dome.
It snapped at the end of its course, flinging the last bits of green goo at the wall. The wall shimmered, then returned to regular stone.
“What's he playing at,” Dare muttered. He looked at me, expression unreadable.
“Birthday present?” I attempted.
He frowned, and returned the stamp to the workbench—next to the tube of paint, where his gaze immediately fell next. The tube had a thin strip of ultramarine around the edge of the cap—the paint I'd mixed during my Awakening while remembering the hue of his eyes.
Embarrassing.
But Dare was already sifting through the rest of the regurgitated items. He lifted two silver rocks and one of the bones and put them in his pocket.
“Yours?” I asked.
He tilted his head, not answering, and continued cataloging each object. Many of them ended up in his pocket.
He didn't touch the tube of paint.
“So, the vine...eats magic?”
“Yes. And reforms it. But active magic usually, not devices.” He indicated the intact paint tube and stamp. “At least not right away. Given a few weeks, it would have been the most dangerous greenery in this layer,” he said dryly, looking at the tube of paint. “But it does similar things to the Midlands' processing plant. Recycling magic back to a 'clean' state.”
As many times as I had been in the Midlands, I had never been in the building that housed the processing plant. “Is...is it a plant?”
Dare stared at me.
“The processing plant... I thought, you know, manufacturing?”
He laughed, then continued, putting his hand down on my workbench to support himself.
“Fine,” I said, cheeks burning. “But back to the vine, it eats magic and, what, regenerates it into clean magic again?”
“Its primary use in the Fourth Layer is to create the right magic for creature transformations. It primarily processes the extra magic that was blown from the Third Layer seventy years ago,” he said, far too mildly. “A magic that was then used specifically. But without the Fourth Layer system in place, yes, it will 'eat' and 'process' any magic.”
I didn't have time to think over the implications of the other statements, I just quickly nodded. “So we can set it on the trails around campus.”
Dare's gaze narrowed. “Yes.” He moved with purpose to the staircase. “If you can coax it to, it will start eating all the trails you set it upon.”
Eating our magic trails, then barfing up clean energy? Win, win.
“Even better,” he said, as he took the steps two at a time. “Such a task will keep it busy.”
I followed quickly. There were a number of rooms upstairs. I rarely ventured there, though. There were some pretty creepy things about Okai. Even though it was a secret hideaway, there was an element of villain lair to it, especially in the upper level.
“What about Kaine?”
“The vine can handle itself.”
The hallway stretched—longer than it would be if First Layer physics were in play.
The vine was in the hall, weaving in front of one particular door. It was the door that I always kept closed.
Dare looked at me in question.
“T
here's a, um, creepy mirror in there?” There were little shadows slithering under the doorframe. The vine tried to poke underneath.
“A portal?”
I shook my head. “I don't know. I stay away from it.”
His right glove reappeared and he grabbed the vine. “Wait here.” He opened the door.
“Um, no, this is my secret lai—”
Dare shut the door just as quickly as he had opened it, gripping the vine a little too hard as it flailed in his fist, trying to lunge back in the direction of the shut door.
“—r, what's wrong?”
“Do not touch that mirror.” His gaze zeroed in on me. His skin was pale. “Ever, Ren.”
“What is it?”
“Danger.” He put his hand on the handle, and it glowed briefly.
I wondered if it was the same kind of danger as a Kinsky painting. I'd never told Dare about our adventure in the Library of Alexandria.
“What kind of danger? And why did you magic the lock up? I can still get in there, you know.”
“Don't.” He thrust the vine at me.
I took it gingerly in my left hand, then grabbed it tighter in my right—holding it like a poisonous snake—not letting the head have its way.
“We are wasting time now,” he said, brushing off my questions. “We must go.”
Hesitance gripped me, oddly.
In Okai, we were safe. I was safe here. I could create freely, away from the Administration Magic in the Magiaduct. I could maybe use whatever the mirror did to portal me to an evil Timbuktu full of hobgoblins and misery, then find some way to a Third Layer port from there. No one would be staring at me as I went past, or crossing their fingers over their hearts, or anything else.
But everyone was waiting back at the Magiaduct. They had put their freedom and magic on the line. I couldn't let them be questioned when I was discovered missing.
And we only had fifteen minutes remaining to set the vine loose, to set the men loose, to retrieve Olivia's scarf, and to figure out a way back inside the Magiaduct. There was no lingering. No safety allowed.
“Okay.”
Dare, with his glove in place, was already scooping up Kinsky's papers—and wasn't that a shock. He was building up a tolerance of some sort to Origin Magic, but he would still either be stripped of his shields or knocked flat on his back after touching one. He had died today from the first dome he had taken down. Someone—probably Ramirez—had revived him almost immediately, though.
But the glove... He had something that resisted Origin Magic.
He peeled the glove from his wrist and over the top of the papers. The glove flexed and expanded, then shimmered into a portfolio similar to the one that had initially held the papers.
I was already thinking how Constantine, Will, and I could make one, as Dare stuck the portfolio into his cloak. I still had that portfolio, and clearly had not thought enough about its possibilities.
The vine snapped its thorny jaws at me, with a rictus green smile.
Keeping its head an arms' length away, I sank down to my knees and gave last minute instructions and rubs to the rocks.
“Hold down the fort. But if someone gains access, hide. I don't want you to engage. There are...unnerving people on campus. They might come for you, if they find me missing.”
The rocks puffed out their rocks and waved their weapons.
“No. I don't want you fighting. Protection only. Hide what you can and don't let them find you.”
I put my left hand on the floor and echoed the instruction to Okai. I didn't have my usual magic, but my intentions were still readable, and my slowly regenerating magic recognizable. It made my desires into suggestions rather than commands. But I thought the building would protect the rocks without a command. To the end.
I rose. Dare tugged my hood back over my head, then slipped his on as well.
He exited before me, scanned the forest line, then motioned for me to follow.
“Lock it up tightly,” he said, as I touched the ornate handle of the door. “Your friend Will isn't going to be coming here before you, and you do not want the Legion to get in any quicker than they already will be.” He looked at me. “They will find a way. There's no way that Kaine hasn't already marked this building for search as soon as the other forces are gone. He can smell the Origin Magic on it.”
“Should I move everything?” Distressed, I looked at Guard Rock and Guard Friend through the little floor window Okai sometimes made for them. They were staring solemnly out at us.
“To where?” Dare said bluntly, not trying to soften the words. “Bellacia Bailey's room? Yours? This is the safest place on campus for you. It just won't be safe forever, especially if the Department gets the go ahead to take over campus security after the temporary edict. As long as they are temporary custodians, they can only use the tools that they bring by person.”
He tapped the stone under his hand with a fingertip. “They will need a large-scale anti-Origin device to crack this building. They have them, but there is no way to sneak something like that on campus. They need the permission still. The officials are watching them in the same way that they are watching us.”
He pulled my hood farther forward. “It's why we can't be discovered. In any of this. It will give them what they need. And they will take over campus.”
I looked at him, suddenly mystified. Dare was the campus protector. Why was he putting himself out for this? For me? Allowing campus to be put into the betting pile?
“I could use paint?” I eyed the door. “I could probably make the door eat anyone who approached.”
The Library of Alexandria would be proud.
“As hilarious as that would be, it would give them justification to use means to open it.” He looked out at the grounds that surrounded the structure. “Better to reinforce the slippery nature of the land. Don't let them onto your 'tile' as you call it.”
Nodding, I pulled out the tube and twisted off the cap with the same hand, since I was still holding the vine in the other one. Trapping the cap between the tube and my palm, I swiped my forefinger over the lip. Ultramarine blue glistened on the tip.
For a moment, all sound was blocked—and all sense of taste and smell. I could only see the blue images and possibilities. If I bathed myself in paint—rubbed it into my skin... I could pull some of the power from my Awakening. Recoat myself in the protective image of blue. Let it fix all of my broken pathways...
I could become my Awakening. I could find Olivia. I could be more than Ren.
No. I swallowed. Just Ren was good.
I touched the door handle, then moved down the steps. Kneeling down, I made an arched line with a strangely steady finger in the dirt. Protection. Protect this tile from being stepped upon. The blue shimmered, then spread.
The building already had that command in place—it had taken me forever to get on the tile—and this was strengthening that command in the dirt at its base. Rapidly. The blue spread outward, circling the building, until the line rejoined itself. The magic flared, then disappeared from view.
I looked at the vine flailing in my hand, then acting on instinct. I swiped my finger along the top of the tube and wiped it on the vine's green head. It went still in my hand, like a puppet waiting for its direction.
Shuddering, I screwed the cap back on and sent the tube back to Okai. I wanted to keep the paint. I wanted the reassurance of having an ace in the hole. But it would be disastrous if it was found on me. It wouldn't even be the nail in the coffin. It would be the fully dug grave, complete with chiseled headstone.
I hated this. This hiding.
We stepped off the tile and Okai immediately spun out of view. It was replaced with another landscape, a quarter piece of a river—where the river flowed for fifteen feet before disappearing into the ground—like a fountain that was reusing its own water. Except that the river magically continued on in a tile somewhere thousands of tiles away. And it started its flow on another somewhere else.
I set the vine on the ground and pressed my finger to its painted head. I channeled my desire through the paint, and let the parts of my mind that collected information relay the sensory information on all the magic of the others—the others who each had some connection to me.
Find all of the trails.
In fact, any magic that looked tasty and mischievous? Feast on, my green friend.
The vine weaved in the air, then dove into the ground.
The whole thing took but a few moments, but when I looked up, Dare was standing rigidly a foot away, whole body tense.
He was looking at something in the distance, his fingers clenching on the air, as if he wanted nothing more than to draw a staff out of his unlimited bucket of tricks. But that would be a dead giveaway to him. No one used a staff like Alexander Dare.
“Five seconds,” he said in a low, harsh voice.
I jolted, hands scrambling in the dirt to get myself upright as my feet were already moving in the direction he was pointing. We had fought together too many times in the Midlands for me not to obey unquestioningly.
He stood stock still, the deep hood obscuring his features, then he was all motion, hands lifting into the air and spinning. The greenery in front of him rose in a too-tight way, then spun with the motion of his hands in the air, and launched outward, toothed mouths open.
I lurched from my scramble into a full-out sprint.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the shadows shifting. Curses were heard as a few were caught.
Trolls appeared in front of us—why always trolls?—conjured by someone behind us and only a football maneuver kept me from being splattered all over the forest floor.
Shadows reached down and grabbed for my hood. Dare spun both of us and the ruined city tile we were running through shifted and broke, pillars and marbles rose then were thrust backward at our pursuers. The shadows screamed and two disappeared into mist.
A castle tile opened up. Then another. I angled left, heading straight for them. The other castle tiles would be more likely to attract, giving us better odds at shaking the tiles that the praetorians were moving on.
It was as if everything Dare had been training me for was coming down to this single minute.