The Rise of Ren Crown (56 page)

Bolts of offensive and defensive magic were still shooting everywhere. Olivia was still fighting, working her way back toward us, still shooting magic at Legion members like she had been
made
to.

The hole was growing increasingly larger with every shot. I yelled at her to stop, but she just shook her head, looking as if she might cry.

A jet of black from a praetorian hit Constantine in the leg. Another struck Axer in the back. Their shields held, but the hits caused them to spin wildly on the line. They slipped again.

“I
hate
you,” Constantine spit, fingernails clawing into Axer's hands.

“It's shiving mutual,” Axer yelled back.

They slid down another inch, and Constantine's expression grew more pained. His blood was slicked along the cord, a visual representation of the length of their slide.

I tried to yank free from Marsgrove.

“You're going to have to let go,” Axer said, in a voice that was eerily calm. “Get them out of here.”

Constantine’s gaze met mine, just for the moment the violently twisting spin allowed. Something darted across his face, and he looked down at his roommate. “If you let go, I'll kill you myself,” Constantine said, and I could hear the strain.

I ripped free of Marsgrove, and swiped my hand downward, ripping a piece of my cloak away, yelling at the magic within it to give me
wind
.

“
Hold
,” I yelled and flung the magic like a Frisbee toward them. It hit them solidly, sending them careening to the other side of the room on the pendulum, then back toward us. The magic of the sinkhole increased, pulling them downward with the swing—like a string pulled past its elasticity.

But the cord held
just
enough to make it over our edge. They let go and tumbled at our feet.

Constantine's palms were ripped and bloody, the slices from the cord deep.

Our gazes met for an instant in silent communication, then we all ran.

The five of us emerged into the light, and immediately ducked into a narrow alley where Axer quickly took down two terrorists. The alley opened into an overgrown field. The Legion, terrorist cells, praetorians, and unknown hooded figures were engaged in open combat. We needed a secured spot and thirty seconds of time.

“That way.” Axer pointed.

I glanced at Marsgrove again as we hurried toward the indicated spot, trying to figure out why he hadn't let me help the boys immediately and
what
was nagging at me. I saw the slight curl of his lips, and I turned suddenly and blasted Marsgrove against the wall of a building.

“Ren,” Axer demanded. “What are you—?”

“That's not Marsgrove,” I spit. No, I wasn't going to be fooled by this again.

To his credit, Axer immediately turned and stepped between all of us and Marsgrove, ultramarine magic gathering in his palm.

Marsgrove laughed, slumped against the wall, then his body
rippled.
A moment later, Raphael was standing in his place, shaking free of the remnants of magic like a dog shaking after a bath. He deflected Axer's magic, then Constantine's, pulling a shield between us out of thin air and pulling me neatly next to him. Their magic pinged against his shield, until Axer held out a ceasefire hand to Constantine.

Once again, I was on Raphael's side of a barrier. Just as I had been under the dome. I moved my fingertips, just an inch, signaling the others.
Wait
.

“Such a shame this didn't work out,” Raphael said, mischievous smile curling his lips. It looked far more natural on him than on Marsgrove's face. “It was going to be a delightful excursion too. To live in Philly's shoes for a bit.”

“You would have sucked at it,” I said, tight-lipped. “Where is Marsgrove?”

“The praetorians have him.
Such
a shame.” His smile didn't dim, but his eyes darkened savagely. “Though maybe dear Phillip will have a change of heart after a few months in their care. Perhaps even join the side of glory.”

“How long have they had him?”

“Since the night you set Kaine upon us,” he said, smiling at my reaction.

I flinched. “But
why
?”

“He's too dangerous to them if he's free,” Axer answered. “He showed that politically Tuesday. And it will be easy to lay his ruin at his old roommate's feet.”

“What your little friend said,” Raphael said, eyes cold. As my golem wearing Emrys Norr's face, Raphael had
not
gotten along well with Axer.

“Was it
you
in the hall upstairs when the praetorians attacked?” I demanded.

“One of your lovely lifelike dolls, Butterfly. With a very handy bomb stitched inside.
So
useful.”

I flinched. Thank god I had never put life into the dolls. They had been empty husks waiting to be filled. The golem had been something far more and it had
hurt
when it was destroyed.

“Fine,” I said, lifting my chin. “This has been a fantastic reunion, but we are at a stalemate and all of us need to disappear. We go our way, you go yours.”

“I
did
let you go, Butterfly. For a moment there. I fulfilled our bargain through the eyes of the doll.” His fingers curled up and around, a completed slip of a contract fluttering around his fingers. “So, now, we can speak of
new
games to be had.”

I could see Axer moving, and I could see Constantine holding up his palm. All of Constantine's container magic was sweeping into Axer's hand.

Everything in my vision slowed as, behind them, Kaine and Tarei leaped—one moment shadows on the wall, the next corporeal machines of death.

I didn't think. With one palm I shot the entire contents of the container given to me by the members of Plan Fifty-two into Kaine and Tarei's faces, and with the other hand, I thrust a single finger at Raphael. The tattoo shot from my finger as if it had been attached to a hair trigger the whole time. It zipped into Raphael's skin, and shock painted his features.

His shield dropped, as if staring at the tattoo required the entirety of his being and he couldn't handle performing a second task.

Axer grabbed me, Constantine grabbed Olivia, and then we were
hauling
down the street.

That Constantine hadn't tried to end Raphael when he'd finally been standing
open
on the field of battle was just one more shock in a street full of them.

Raphael was
never
surprised. He was always so far ahead of the games he played, that it was almost as if he was playing on a different board than the rest of his competitors. Of anyone I knew, only Axer seemed to plan so far in advance.

That I would get help from Stevens was something Raphael would have planned for.

That I would get help from Greyskull, was
not.

I looked over my shoulder as we ran.

Raphael smiled, a
real
smile that transformed his features into something almost ethereal—he'd always been very much a devil in an angel's guise, but for once it nearly seemed the opposite—and I was caught for a moment staring at him, jaw hanging. But I also remembered Greyskull's words, and as Raphael started to glow, I yelled at my friends.

“
Take cover!
”

They did—all in opposite directions. I chanced a single look back.

Raphael was still looking down at his skin and Tarei and Kaine were closing in on him, seeing his shield down, seeing
opportunity.
The euphoria on Raphael's face morphed suddenly into sadistic glee.

The tattoo shot from his finger and hit Kaine. Kaine bellowed and shadows shot from him.

The shockwave sent everyone in a five block radius sprawling. Except Raphael, who remained on his feet.

Raphael looked at me from far down the road, and smiled, then dropped a wide, round, black circle to the ground. It stuck like a suction cup thrown with great force.

I knew what that was.

“See you soon, Butterfly.” He stepped onto the portal pad, and immediately, sunk down as the edges of the pad pulled in toward center. There was a streak of darkness, then the dredges of Kaine were launching at Raphael just as his head was about to be covered. The edges sealed over the top of them, sealing them fighting inside as they disappeared into the earth.

I gaped at the scorch mark—the only evidence that they'd been there at all.

A bolt hit me in the shoulder, jerking me left, and I blindly threw a combination that Axer had taught me.

Tarei morphed in front of me with a horrible, sadistic look on his face.

Panting, I raised a hand. “We couldn't resist, right? I've been told criminal types can't.”

The rage on Tarei's face lasted only for the moment it took for my magic to knock him back again.

The praetorians were suddenly surrounding the two of us. Not slowly and creeping, but absent one instant, and
there
the next. I forgot how to breathe.

I
didn't
forget how to yank the chaos field over me. Shaking, I looked around; only the thin field a protection. Surrounded. Beaten. Outnumbered. Friendless. Exactly as they'd wanted me on Tuesday.

Wanting,
hoping,
that I would show myself as an Origin Mage. I could see the device they'd had on Top Circle—the one that captured the magic of an Origin Dome. And in Tarei's other hand was a gold cuff.

Tarei smiled at me, cracking his neck to the side. “We're going to strip you apart. I love to watch the master at work. We'll remake you so that you only work for the master. In the basement, where all hope is lost.”

Tarei's purple eyes glinted suddenly. “Shhh...” he said, his voice changing tone and sound. “Save the best of the surprises for when she visits us.”

Stavros.

Terrified calm descended over me. I touched my armband, then clenched my fingers around it. I slowly rose to my feet.

“Your basement? I don't choose to accept your invitation.”

“It's less an invitation...and more a demand.” Stavros smiled, image flickering between Tarei's insanity and Stavros' cold regard. “You
will
accompany us, Miss Crown.”

“It is illegal to just take students.”

“How tiresome.” He sighed. “Are we really going to go through this again? Here? And, you without your support?”

I smiled tightly. “Are you going to throw me in with Marsgrove? You have Phillip Marsgrove, the Dean of Special Projects at Excelsine,
illegally
in your custody,” I bit out. “How do you plan to justify
that
to the public?”

Tarei's face flipped back into view, as if he'd wrestled for control. He smiled sadistically. “We aren't. And I'm going to cut into him while you watch me, then I'm going to turn the scalpel on y—”

His face flipped and Stavros was there again instead. “Now, now. Let's not get ahead of our agenda, Tarei.” Tarei's whole body flinched, as if Stavros had done something to him from whatever remote hole in the earth Stavros inhabited.

“Now, if you would, Miss Crown.” He motioned toward the surrounding praetorians. “We have a schedule to keep.”

Still holding the field, I sidestepped the first attempt to grab for me. The field sparked about me and they carefully eyed me, obviously trying to decide if it was some Origin Magic trickery.

“Release Marsgrove. I'm betting that the public doesn't even know you have him. Were you going to blame that on the terrorists too?”

“I find that there is little that the public cares to know as long as their safety is secured. And I do that quite well.” Stavros smiled coldly.

“The public won't stand for it.”

“After they discover you in the Third Layer performing
Origin Magic
, no one will care about other matters.”

They were going to try and force my hand. My heart picked up speed, but I kept hold of it.

“How do you plan to get me off campus? And to frame me—trying to pretend I'm an Origin Mage so you can scare the public more? You tried on Top Circle already with that bogus test.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Just like you got me here to the Midlands. Invited me here, telling me that you had finally found Olivia Price after your men mistakenly sealed her inside a building that was inaccessible to scrying attempts. She barely survived. Constantine and I brought a hologram of Axer along so that he could help us search, because he knows the Midlands best. Are you going to go after him now, too?”

Stavros stilled, image flickering once, twice, then becoming
harder.
He knew what I was doing
.
And his gaze promised
death
.

Tarei's puzzlement—his master might have figured it out, but Tarei had not—started to flutter through the unnatural facade.

I pushed two fingers into my armband, then pulled out Bellacia's recording device that had been running since I squeezed my fingers over it. “Smile.” I clicked a button and the device whirled. The last thirty seconds replayed in the air, Tarei's voice speaking his threatening words again, followed by Stavros's.

If I knew Bellacia, she was downloading and cutting the news into headlines already—
Dean Illegally Taken! Department Basement Real!
or maybe a clickbait,
Praetorian Says All Hope Is Lost
. And the club would already be spreading rumors that the Department had taken me from campus—salting and burning the path behind me. If we got the information out there first, the Department would have a more difficult time convincing the public that I'd left campus on my own recognizance.

Tarei immediately shot a spell at Bellacia's device, and I was only able to half-deflect it, as my shields absorbed the rest of the force of the blow. I stumbled back.

Blinding light exploded—Axer, Constantine, and Olivia finally taking their opportunity—and the praetorians around us fell, but Tarei, in the center with me, continued forward.

Spell after spell flew from him. Half of them would have obliterated me without my shield set.

“Get it,” said Stavros's voice over his. “There is still time. I am blocking the transmission.”

“Give that to me!” Tarei yelled, firing another blast. “Where did you get that?”

Blocking it? I grimly dodged a spell, tucking the device firmly into my armband now that I had clicked it and its use was complete. I could only hope Bellacia retrieved the footage at some point.