The Rise of Ren Crown (2 page)

The stooges stood at military attention, narrowed gazes searching faces and auras, while the man at their head stood casually, far better dressed and supercilious than his counterparts. His gaze was cruel as it slowly and methodically dissected the enormous crowd, moving from group to group, person to person.

The vine that had wrapped around my ankle shot up the leg of my jeans, flattening itself to my skin as it shot all the way up my body and into my sleeve. It swallowed
whole
the stamp Constantine had given me and the tube of paint my golem had left behind, then dove back down the same path to wrap around my ankle again, vibrating in agitation.

Stunned by that, more than the emergence of shadow dwellers, I stared down at my bloodstained and torn clothing, to where the vine was hugging my skin beneath. That was an action as close to panic as I'd ever witnessed from Alexander Dare.

I tore my gaze away to look in his direction and saw the combat mages from Dare's team step minutely closer to him.

Panicked murmurs flew around the field.

“That's Praetorian Kaine.”

“He'll wipe us all!”

“Shadow Mage. Right hand of Stavros.”

Someone near me whispered in a panicked voice, “Why is he out here? I
saw
him go in with the others! Someone get Marsgrove!”

I tried to catch Dare's gaze, but the crowd in front of me shifted, and Mike slid slowly, but very deliberately, in front of me. Familiar, taller bodies pressed around me on all sides, blocking me from view.

“You have no authority here, Praetorian,” Dare said coldly, addressing him only by title. “And you are supposed to be with the other Department heads, sealed in with our officials while the Administration uses the Truth Stone.”

“I think you'll find that I soon will have far more authority than you can imagine, Mr. Dare,” he responded with a cold relish that bespoke an ongoing acrimonious relationship. “As for
this
moment, they need me not, so I swapped seals. This sealed area works just as well under the terms I agreed to.” He shrugged, lips wickedly lifting. “And while the Administration Magic is still coming online, I have every right to conduct a preliminary investigation.”

Magic glittered above the crowd, and a number of students around me panicked. I could only see the edges of the magic, though—and I could see Praetorian Kaine through small gaps as he walked almost restlessly, weaving casually between bodies and groups along the cafeteria stairs, turning in small circles as he gazed harder at some mages than others.

“Of course, my acceptance of this seal is
slightly
different from yours, which was forced upon
you
by Administration Magic. Unless you have...
special
talents, Mr. Dare, then all of you have been commanded to remain in place—a five-foot length, was it not?—a command that can only be broken if you are in danger of dying. It would be bittersweet were it to come to that.”

My ragged magic reacted painfully to the threat I couldn't see, trying to compensate for my lack of visual stimulus. Marsgrove's cuff activated in order to control my subconscious impulse, but barely any magic was even stuttering upward for it to control.

Something hard shoved me in the side. I looked down to see a small handhold device with a viewer in the palm of Will's hand. The view was connected to Will's sight, and the praetorian's hawkish features were displayed prominently on the screen, along with those of the mages standing around him. Will's gaze was focused forward, but he held the viewer steady—hand only shaking a little—allowing me to see through his eyes what was happening without revealing myself.

It also displayed a number of facts around the edges of the image—most importantly that the praetorians answered only to the head of the Department. And were basically black ops with nearly limitless reach in the Second Layer—untouchable in the courts.

But they were
not allowed in educational institutions for underage mages.

And yet, here one was. Scary enough, without seeing everyone's reaction to the man, shrinking as far from his presence as they could get, with their heads down to avoid notice.

In the viewer, Dare's arms were crossed, lips pressed tightly together, as he looked at the magic dissipating in the air in front of him. It looked as if a scroll had been momentarily displayed there.

“We have but little time before the Truth Stone seal lifts and the more traitorous of you contact your mommies and daddies. I will be watching and listening to see who does that, of course.” His smile went wide. “Perhaps pay a few visits afterward.”

Panic grew.

“You are taking too long.” Kaine addressed an underling at his left, with a voice edged in steel.

The underling was looking at a device in his hand and swallowed heavily. “She's here, sir. On this field. Something was interfering, but it's narrowing in now.”

Panic spiked. They were tracking me, and I was penned in like a farm animal.

Kaine coldly surveyed us, a crowd of nearly fifteen thousand students. “It will go better for everyone if you show yourself, girl.” His modulated voice wasn't overly loud, but it was easily heard in the stifling silence.

There was a distinct pause when no one moved, as I watched familiar faces whirl through the display as Will scanned the crowd.

“The usual rules do not apply today, as you've seen.” Kaine's lips parted in a shark-like smile. “Someone should point her out
quickly
.”

Shockingly, even with the implied threat, and the terrified gasps in the crowd, no one in Will's view did. And there were quite a few who had one reason or another to do so.

Bryant—who had originally been part of our group, but had fled when he'd realized we were going to fight the terrorists—said nothing. But his sullen silence wasn't a surprise. Self-preservation was his primary concern, and both sides would punish him for speaking out.

On the other hand, I expected Peters, who was also in view, to say something. He gripped his Canary-yellow Justice Tablet, but his gaze stayed purposely fixed on a point opposite us.

Will's gaze, and the image on the viewer, switched to the front of the crowd.

Bellacia's neutral gaze was on Kaine, but she wasn't standing as casually as usual. She, like the rest of the crowd, was unnerved by this man.

Camille Straught, who had to have been updated by Bellacia immediately upon frequencies being reinstated, was staring in our general direction—probably right at me—but her lips didn't move.

Was the campus population protecting me?

“She's over there, sir.”

A single thin finger pointed in my direction.

Keiren Oakley, a boy who had made life quite unpleasant for me in Layer Politics class and by very obviously recording my actions around campus, was pointing our way. I had breathed a sigh of relief when he had left with the privileged others to attend the combat competition live. At some point during the battle, he had obviously returned to campus.

Mike's back seemed to grow in size, blocking me even more completely from view of the men on the steps.

“And where've you been, you little slimeball?” Mike asked. “Suspicious, you getting off campus exactly when everyone was going to burn, then suddenly being back here now. Who told you about the attack?”

Oakley's pale skin turned completely white. “I attended the All-Layer Com—”

“Silence,” Kaine said coldly.

But Mike wasn't done. “And spoke with quite a number of the Peacekeepers' Troop—who are all currently being questioned with the Truth Stone—before you did,” Mike said, aggressively, ignoring Kaine's steely command. Mike's condemning gaze focused solely on Oakley.

“
Silence
.” There was a definite threat in that single word this time, and Mike clutched at his suddenly shadowed throat.

I grabbed the back of Mike's shirt in one hand, and pressed shaking fingers to the back of his neck, absorbing the pain Kaine was sending into him. My magic channels twisted and receded further inside of me, like the flame of a match lighting strands of hair.

It was a warning choke more than anything, and I had experienced worse while trying to resurrect my brother. But the feeling of absolute terror emanating from the students surrounding us seeped in as well. Neph grabbed one of my forearms and Will grabbed the other. Some of it leeched through, as they bore part of the pain.

Mike had protected 'feral' me for a long time, and even after learning about my Origin status today, he was still doing it. He hadn't run in terror yet.

Kaine released the punishing magic, and my fingers dropped from Mike's neck.

I fisted the back of his shirt harder in my other hand though, as we both heaved in breaths. The tie between us strengthened, shifting to a connection thread at his neck. Not yet on a level with Will, Neph, Dare, Constantine, my parents, or Raphael, but a far stronger connection than to any others. Breathing heavily, I sent through all the vestiges of healing magic that I could draw from the tangled, twisted mass of half-burnt channels inside of me.

I was
never
going to find Olivia with my magic so damaged. I couldn't even manage a proper spell.

The crowd began moving in tense jousts of bodies, and the vine tightened around my ankle, in a strange gesture of comfort.

Mike tilted his chin down, swallowing roughly. His lips didn't move, but his voice was clear, coming mentally through his scarf—still tied around his neck—to the rest of ours.

Hold steady
, he said as the men around Kaine parted the crowd and headed in our direction. I stared at Will's device, gripping Mike's shirt as we watched the men quickly approach our position.

I could
feel
them getting closer, an unseen force unzipping the crowd in a four-foot vee as they strode forward.

Will abruptly pulled the viewing device back, jamming it into his pocket. His empty fingers clenched at his side.

Kaine's voice echoed, a mere fifteen feet or so away. “The six from the images we were sent. Tap each of them.”

No official had confirmed that Olivia was missing. An unofficial death toll had started and I had heard the echo of it through the scarves as people repeated frequency broadcasts. But there were so many students receiving treatment in Medical and being revived, that the lists were constantly updating.

Olivia's mother's audible demands concerning the whereabouts of her daughter had gone unanswered, and Marsgrove, who actually knew Olivia was gone, had disappeared inside the Administration Building with the other officials.

But five of us—Neph, Will, Mike, Delia, and I—were still standing after our attack on the battle field dome, and were available for whatever “tapping” was.

Will withdrew something thin from his pocket as he was magically pulled forward, Mike was physically pushed to the side, tearing him from my grip, and Asafa and Patrick, who had been part of the group flanking us, were thrown against the surrounding bodies of the crowd, in the small five-foot allotment of movement that Marsgrove's spell had invoked. Patrick's eyes glinted with malice as he eyed the Department mages who were tightly interweaving themselves among our group of five.

I took a deep breath, then another, nearly panting with panic.

A trickle of magic seeped through a leaf of the vine, unnaturally attempting to regulate my state back to calm.

But I wouldn't be able to reclaim Olivia, if they put me in a cell. All chance would be lost. And the others... The others would be lost as well.

No, no, no, no
. Conscious thought to do magic whipped up in me, but was
immediately
yanked back and pinched hard by the vine around my ankle. I reflexively pushed against the restriction as the menacing officials in black prowled closer. The vine tightened further, battling for control of my magic.

I could feel the point at which I could break free of it. Right there... Just where the vine seemed to thin...

Dare's magic pulsed along the threads connecting us.
Trust. Let go. Trust...

I abruptly let go of the magic, and the vine loosened. On impulse, I shoved Olivia's scarf into my back pocket.

Then I was staring at Kaine as he stepped directly out of a shadow formed from the crowd in front of me, and my gaze met his ruthless one directly, for the first time.

“Ah. Here you are.” Satisfaction edged his cold gaze in icy, ornamental spikes. Silver eyes in hollowed sockets stared down at me. Surprisingly, he was much younger than I would have assumed. Maybe in his late twenties. Not that much older than the oldest students on campus, but the soullessness in his eyes seemed ancient.

One long fingertip drew a path from the outer edge of his right eyebrow, then curved beneath his eye. A haze of magic fell across the eye, turning the iris from silver to black, the entire pupil swallowed by darkness. Zips of polychromatic colors wove in and out.

I swallowed with difficulty, and eyed the other black-clad figures surrounding us.

The vine around my ankle tightened, waiting to strike if I reached for magic.

Someone behind me fiercely whispered, “Where are the professors? Johnson and Marsgrove might be sealed, but the professors—well, get around the communication block!”

Kaine smiled—a slashing cut of his mouth and eyes. “Where are your professors indeed?” he asked aloud, addressing the whisper. “And where were they when all of you required their aid? No, I think it far better that you be under the Department's protection, and the Legion's, for the foreseeable future. And Tarei, do tap the student who was just speaking as well as these five.”

There was a clap of sound, and the noise of the crowd dissipated around me.

“Now, to more interesting matters.” With his magicked eye, Kaine took in the surrounding faces. His gaze rested on Neph, Patrick, then Delia, for the longest moments. Magic swirled up and over his blackened silver eye, like dark mist orbiting a sphere—giving data on everything that passed through his vision.

“What a riveting little group this is,” he said. “Full of degenerates and sympathizers.”

Patrick bared his teeth in a very savage smile, eyes glittering. Delia and Neph stood frozen.