The Rise of Ren Crown (47 page)

“Ah, finally cluing in, Crown?” Patrick's smile was sharp. There was nothing fey about it.

Feck Jordan, who was friends with Wakes said, “And what do we do about Warden?”

“You are skipping subjects, ladboot,” Patrick chided in a jovial manner, but his eyes were hard. I was reminded again of the interchange with Kaine on Top Circle—how he'd looked specifically at Patrick, Neph, and Delia ignoring all the others—and of the things Olivia had said about the O'Learys back when I'd first approached the boys about their game controller.

Looking at it from another perspective as I looked at the facial expressions around the table—and actually paying attention to social cues for once—it was
very likely
that Patrick was the son of some magical mobster in this world.

Neph's hand drifted across my skin.
Youngest son
, came across the soft breeze of thought,
not part of the family business, but still part of the family.

Jordan didn't look pleased at being reprimanded, but he also didn't speak against Patrick.

“We'll keep Wakes in on the campus plans—we need him for his expertise with containers—but we'll fix it so that he is left out of the Crown and Price tasks until too late,” Patrick said.

“Yeah, and what? Are you going to do this to each of us, O'Leary?” Jordan asked. “Take us out one-by-one like your father and brothers?”

The people around the table were all poised. The group which had come together through our defense of campus was poised on a knife's edge. Poised to break apart in the shattered fall.

“When one of our lives is on the line, I'd like to think that wouldn't be necessary,” Patrick said, twirling a rod that he had pulled from somewhere. A number of gazes followed the progress of the slim metal piece. “We were under the initial misconception that Price would get traded in a prisoner exchange, seeing who her mother is. However, that was becoming less and less likely as I watched that hag on the feeds.”

Patrick caught the shift in my expression and something dark, but far more pleased, took over his. We were agreed on Helen Price.

With the additional information on Patrick, the past interactions with him took on a different tone. The puckish amusement, the general lack of seriousness, always full of confidence—the kind that came from
knowing
they were on top. More like...more like school was all a game Patrick was playing. One that he had every assurance he would win, no matter what he did.

I hadn't paid keen attention to Olivia's reaction to being in their room that first time, because I'd been so nervous of how she was going to skin me for the controller. But looking back...that first interaction had had a
lot
of undertones.

They were thick as thieves by the end, with Patrick calling Olivia “Queen” and “Her Majesty” and being delighted in everything. And it just made me wonder...what the devil was going on? I had missed a ton of subtext, very obviously.

You were slightly busy,
Neph said, her mental voice droll,
And, quite frankly, more than anything else, your lack of reaction to all of it aided the good relations that developed. I doubt either Olivia or O'Leary are used to people just accepting them as is. A lot of preconceived notions come with their names.

Patrick continued. “We were also under the impression that Dean Marsgrove had a chance. However, there again, we underestimated. Now, Crown is informing us of an end date, the last moves for whatever game is being played. How she has contact with Verisetti is not my concern. That she is telling the truth is.”

He looked at Saf briefly, then Dagfinn, and finally Kita. They were a unit, the four of them, inside our larger group.

“My father had dealings with Verisetti,” Patrick said. “After Salietrex, but before the rest. When it was not determined yet, what his plans were. We had nothing to do with Verisetti after his plans became clear. But Dominic O'Leary said much the same thing as Crown. Verisetti was slippery, sly, but not a liar. He kept the bargains he struck.”

“Okay. So...should we discuss what is going to happen?” Will said, trying, and failing, to keep his voice upbeat.

“The details are hazy still,” I prevaricated. Neph's fingers ghosted my skin again, giving me comfort.

“Well, let's break them down,” Kita said, far too reasonably, in the continuing tension of the room.

I swallowed. “Sure, okay.” I took a deep breath. “I have to escape Bellacia's notice, so I only have twenty hours to play with. During that time, I have to get past the Legion and Praetorian Tarei, who is tracking me continuously. Get through an off campus arch, none of which are active. Find and go through a port to the Third Layer. Trek through Outlaw Territory to their location. Rescue Olivia
and
Dean Marsgrove. Travel back doing all the steps in the reverse. All before Bellacia notices that I'm gone—let's call that
curfew
—and all without getting caught.”

Every face staring back was blank. Neph was a reassuring presence, but even the rest of the Alpha team, who had already known, were tense as they thought those steps through.

“Mother of God,” someone whispered.

“Right,” I said shakily. “Why not, right?”

“Crown—”

I curled my hand into a fist. “It doesn't matter. I'm going, and I'll go down trying.”

“If you get caught,” Lifen said, and chanced a quick look at Patrick, as if making sure that her objection wasn't going to result in certain dismissal and memory loss. “The Department won't just punish you, they'll—”

“I know.” My fingernails curled into my palms. “And that's why I started a lot of those tasks yesterday morning. Many of them are for all of
you.
For your protection here. Especially the ouroboros rings. I'm going to make sure they are
incredible
.”

The knife-edged precipice held for another moment, then retreated. I could nearly
taste
it—the way the Community Magic in our group settled. Strengthened even.

I cleared my suddenly dry throat. “I'm going to do everything I can not to let the Department take over campus due to my actions. But I'm not weighing Olivia's life against what the Department will do. We'll—
you'll
figure out how to kick them back to the curb, if the worst happens.”

Silence. Then a few solemn nods. Then a roomful.

“Any objections?” Patrick asked.

I looked at Wakes' empty chair, then Patrick. So did everyone else. Asafa waved his hand and the chair disappeared.

The Community Magic didn't bend.

Patrick smiled. “We'll give them more hell than they can handle, Crown.”

I smiled. It felt wobbly.

“We'll need someone to replace Wakes,” Kita said, all business once more. She was a large part of the reason the business ventures undertaken by a number of the mages at the table were flourishing. “Replace him completely. He's smart, and I don't think you want him knowing any part of the plan. He'll piece the rest together and we've seen that he will act on it.”

Jordan reluctantly nodded. “She's right.”

“We'll still protect Wakes too, though,” I said. “He was part of our team. We'll just figure out a way to give him the protection where he won't question it.”

The Community Magic strengthened even more. I blinked, and looked around. The expressions around the table looked more determined now, oddly enough.

“If Crown is going to the Third Layer, she's going to need Wakes' expertise.”

“I can get her through Outlaw Territory and get her the cuff she needs for the Third Layer,” Delia said, gaze daring anyone to say anything about
how
.

“Sounds great, Delia,” Saf said, smiling gently.

“Crown will
need
containers, though. I know a few guys, but—” Dagfinn shrugged. “They aren't completely trustworthy.”

Containers?

“I have someone who can handle that,” I said. “Don't worry about that aspect.”

Patrick lifted a brow.

“Constantine.” I rubbed the inside of my left elbow. “He can do whatever is needed with them.”

He was ideally suited for
any
task that involved our continued presence in the world of the living. But containers neatly fell under the materials banner, and at materials, Constantine was unequivocally the best.

“And, uh, he's going to be coming with me,” I added poorly. There wasn't a great way to say it, really. I knew what people thought of Constantine, and he deserved most of it.

There were a flurry of immediate objections, unsurprisingly, but Patrick's expression barely shifted. He seemed to understand far more than I intended to share. The death of Constantine's mother had been huge news, I'd discovered over the past few days. That Constantine would want to hunt down the person responsible, Patrick seemed to implicitly understand.

The son of a mobster—I was beginning to see it more.

He tapped a finger on a device. “He hates Price.”

I couldn't deny that, but I made a negative motion with my head. “He has sworn to help. He, too, will keep his promises.”

Patrick continued to watch me, eyes taking in all of my nonverbal expressions. “Bring him by later.”

I nodded, and we moved on to how to fool the Legion long enough to let me slip by.

“Might be time to start brushing up on on-campus terrorism, lads and lasses,” Patrick said, rubbing his hands together. “The Department needs a little reminder of why they shouldn't be here. And, that, I have a lot of
family
experience at.”

“If we do it, it will set back campus freedom,” someone said, grimly. “They'll have more excuse to stay around.”

The others joined in, each person at the table issuing a shot.

“We could make the terror
personal
.”

“Make it so that anyone with a student ID is perfectly safe, and that only intruders are targeted.”

“Make it seem like campus is fighting back.”

“
Make
campus fight back. Show that we can defend ourselves.”

“Can we change the identification spells?”

I thought of the Justice Squad meeting, and answered, “Someone from the Justice Squad did it. A mage named Travers. He formed a Justice Magic Negative Field?”

Dagfinn's eyes lit. Jordan nodded. “Yeah, we saw him do that outside the Magiaduct. He used the Administration cache. I think he might...be persuaded to point us in the right direction. From a purely academic standpoint.”

“Funny thing, that.” Patrick's gaze slid to me. “The Justice Squad has been particularly easy on us, the last few days.” More than one gaze shifted my way. “All that business under the domes teaming up together through you has put them in a much more genial position. At least for the temporary present.”

“The thing Travers did, he did say that the praetorians weren't affected,” I warned.

“There's a difference between the Praetorian Guard and the Legion.” Dagfinn pointed a finger at me. “The praetorians use spells that the Legion is not authorized to use, and only one praetorian remains.”

“If we access the Administrative cache, we can focus the chaos to follow interlopers.” Asafa looked thoughtful. “Not very friendly of Excelsine, but it would suit our purposes for a focused amount of time.”

“And make it very personal.” Patrick smiled, a bit maliciously.

Asafa exchanged a look with him, and a silent back-and-forth exchange occurred.

Asafa touched two fingers together. “I've got an idea for the praetorian too. But it'll only work once.”

“Once is all we need.”

Chapter Thirty-seven: In Between

Neph, Will, Mike, Delia, and I were holed up in Constantine's living room going over a number of plans and magic when he walked through the door.

He stopped just inside the entrance and started undoing the closures of his expensive coat that wrapped around his throat. He examined each of them, then said, “Honey, I'm home,” in a deadpan voice.

I rolled my eyes. Neph had been here more than once in the past few days, and I had been given direct permission to have people come by.

Mike gave a long-suffering sigh and gathered their materials. “We'll get the items and see you in thirty, Ren.”

Constantine leaned against the wall as they left. Delia gave him a glare thickly drawn in kohl. Will gave him a cheerful greeting, because Will was just that awesome. Neph barely spared Constantine a glance as she gracefully walked from the room.

Mike pulled the door closed behind them, but not before giving me a pointed glance.

I sighed. “You are expected at a meeting in thirty minutes in Trick and Saf's room.”

Constantine pushed away from the wall, and his gaze was back to its normal dichotomy of lazy and piercing. “Your little band of miscreants said they'd help?”

I pulled my ponytail over my shoulder and tugged on it. “Yes, and I told them you were coming with me. They want to have you come in for a chat.”

“The ones with you at the Blarjack Swamp?”

“Yes. All of the ones that were there are in, along with a dozen others.”

“Only you would buddy up with an O'Leary.” He half-smiled. “Most of campus just participates in his betting, sporting, and gaming schemes and leaves dealing with him to business transactions or ways to ingratiate themselves with the family.”

“Patrick is nice.”

“No, he is not. But that is not the argument at hand.”

“Is it going to be a problem?”

“Between O'Leary and me? No. We know how to deal with each other. It is simply cleaner to stay far from each other's orbits. Like knows like.” He smiled coldly.

“Great.”

“How did your little muse take the news?”

“Don't call her that,” I said tiredly.

“You chose well, all things considered,” he said, eyes narrowed on the wall. “The Baus are powerful, and Nephthys Bau is said to be more powerful than most. You could still do better, on a general basis, with access to more muses. It would be far more in your control. You understand that, right? Da Vinci had nine in his rotation. And they were happy to have the smallest part of him.”

“I'm pretty okay with my status quo.” I didn't need nine muses. I liked my single one just fine.