The Rise of Ren Crown (37 page)

Communication Magic was not my forte, not yet. There was a lot of auditory processing involved, which was not my strength. I'd be putting in some concerted effort on that, though, if I made it here another term.

“Why
are
you packing? Shouldn't you already be packed?”

“For the competition, yes.”

I narrowed my eyes on him. “Then what are you packing for?”

“Inevitability.”

Chapter Twenty-six: Promises of Bloodshed

Constantine still wasn't back as the clock ticked over to half past five.

Axer put a small silver figurine in my palm. A duplicate rested in his. “Keep this on you.”

I tapped my finger against the silver dragon. It was exquisitely crafted. I stroked my finger down its head and the one in his hand yawned, mouth wide. I tucked it under my armband. I'd go to Delia's and sew a pocket for it later.

“Is this going to manipulate me while you're gone?”

“If it is, you shouldn't have put it in your armband.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. You had your chance, buddy.”

He smiled—a far more self-satisfied smile than I was used to seeing. Axer tended to wear an “all business, save the villagers!” look as a default. “Did I?”

“Yup. So, what do they do?”

“They will allow us to communicate. Off tablet, off frequency. Only these two are connected to each other.”

I fished it back out, more interested. “How did you do it?”

“It's an easy spell, and an old one. The hard part is usually synching up the two mages at either end. But in your case, it's simple.”

“Yeah, yeah, you know all my magic and weaknesses. I've already been warned.”

“Have you?” he said lightly. Too lightly.

“Don't worry. Good judgment hasn't kicked in yet.” I held up a thumb. “You're all set.”

His expression grew serious. “The dragons can work via dreams, if you need them to, though there is risk involved in that with you.”

I stared at the dragon. “Yeah, I'm not eager to repeat that yet.”

“I know. But if it comes to it, hold it and think of me as you fall asleep.”

My cheeks flushed. “Shall do.” I was going to need to keep it
away from me
as I slept.

“If you leave campus, though, do not wait, tell me
immediately
, however you have to.”

I examined him, suddenly tense. “You seemed pretty confident that Marsgrove was going to prevail. What are you saying?”

“I'm leaving in thirty minutes. You will be under Leandred's influence for days. I know him. And I know you. He's a viper
you
choose to pet like a stray cat.”

“Why don't you just stick trackers on us. Everyone else has.”

“I can already track him. And you too,” he said, with a pointed look in my direction. “With both of you in one place, it's child's play.”

“That's...weird.”

“No weirder than those animated rocks in your workshop that carry pencils as weapons while they case the premises.”

I opened my mouth, then shut it. “Fair enough.”

The door opened.

Constantine strode into the room, expression still that combination of smug self-satisfaction that he had exited with.

“Sacrifices were made, and dear Daddy is over-the-moon at being able to grant a request. All systems go.”

I frowned. “You went to see your father?” I checked the magic on him, probing the connections that were still vibrantly displayed. He looked fine.

“Here.” Axer threw something to Constantine.

Constantine caught the band in the air, and turned it over in his fingers. “Astrophene. How modern.”

“Too complicated for you, Leandred?”

“Only in the way that it doesn't allow me to choke you with it. Such a limiting material,” Constantine mused.

Axer ignored him and walked into the bedroom. “This one's mine.” He looked at me and pointed at the bed closest to the door.

“Er, okay. Looks great?”

“The charade will require multiple parts, if implemented.” He looked as if he'd swallowed a lemon. He pulled a shirt from atop the comforter. “And you'll both heal faster with you jacked into them.”

I stared at his bed, then back at him. “What?” What charade?

He looked impatient. “Tell me
immediately
, if you leave.”

“Yes?”

“It's not a question, Ren.”

“Yes.”

He reached out and palmed the back of my neck, pulling me closer and making me miss a heartbeat. “If you let Leandred leech you in order to untangle your magic completely, I will destroy him.”

Heart thumping, I examined his expression. He was entirely serious. Smart of him. To threaten Constantine's welfare instead of mine.

“That goes for anyone, do you understand?”

I nodded, reluctantly. It would have been a pretty good plan.

“Do not listen to him, darling. There is little he can do to—”

Axer's hand dropped from me, and Constantine abruptly stopped speaking. I turned to see him standing in place, throat working as if someone was slowly cutting off his air. His hand made an aborted motion toward his throat, then curled, as if he wouldn't give his opponent the satisfaction.

Dare's expression was entirely forbidding as he looked at his roommate.

“Make it easy,” Dare said to him, voice coaxing.

“Axer?” I said, putting a hand on his arm.

Freed of the hold, Constantine took a large breath and smiled dangerously at Dare. “Scurry on, now. You have a
competition
to win.”

I thought Constantine might die, in that moment.

I stepped quickly between them. “Wow, okay. That promise on limiting bloodshed, it's still in effect, right?”

Tall as they were, I didn't provide much interference for their lines of sight. But after a moment, Axer looked down at me. The death promised in his eyes lessened.

I patted him. “Yay. Okay.” Then pulled him toward the side of the room.

With one hand on him—worried he'd obliterate Constantine, if I let go—I dug out the last paper rose. I'd kept a single one. Infused with fond memory.

I handed it to him, sending a burst of affection and continued health through our connection threads.

His mouth quirked and his lethal look fled completely. “I accept your token,” he said, in a parody of what I'd said to him weeks ago when we'd been testing with the Troop.

“Thanks, again, for...” My hands automatically formed like they were holding a sphere, then nervously clasped together.

“You are welcome, Ren,” he said, voice soft.

A bell dinged and he shouldered his bag and walked to the door. He gave us each very separate—and loaded—looks, then disappeared into the hall.

I let out a breath, and ran a shaky hand through my hair, refocusing on Constantine.

“You.” I pointed at him.

His expression was still dark, but he quirked a brow. “Is now when my promised beating occurs?”

“Ugh.” I rubbed my temples, then threw out a hand. “What were you thinking?”

“Shall I be scared of Alexander Dare too, just like you? Darling, don't give him the power,” he said derisively.

“I'm not
scared of him
. But you don't go poking wild animals,” I hissed. “The two of you are more feral than
I am
. Metaphorically!”

He picked imaginary lint from his shirtsleeve. “You don't like it when wild dogs fight over you?”

I narrowed my eyes. “That isn't what this is. Why do you hate each other? When did you stop being best friends?”

The flinch told me all I needed to know.

“I'm
right,
” I said, horrified.

He showed his teeth under a slashing smile. I knew what was going to happen next. He was going to unload
everything,
all cannons firing. And it wasn't going to be pretty.

Quickly, I reached out and put my hand on the bend in his arm. “No. I'm sorry.” I closed my eyes and focused on the connection threads, pushing
friendship
and
regret
across them.

When I opened my eyes, his expression was completely different.

He looked worse, completely like someone who had been on the edge of death twenty-four hours ago—and less like someone magically reconstructed to nearly full strength. “I will break you, Ren,” he said, voice heavy. “You need to understand that.”

“It's okay,” I said, soothingly, like how I used to coax Christian back into form after a game loss. “We'll be fine.”

Constantine rubbed a lock of my hair between his thumb and forefinger. “You think people want to be
friends
with you, Ren.”

“We are friends.”

“Old magic users don't make
friends
with powerful game pieces, Ren. Families like the Dares have allies. They see your potential and what they can do with it. All without planning to make you an equal in the process.”

I smiled, a tight smile. I could read between the lines of what he was saying. “We are friends. That is predicated on the assumption that you enjoy my company, like I enjoy yours. If your definition of friendship differs, that is fine. I can still use mine.”

His fingertips pressed together tightly, the tips whitening. “I'll ruin you. If Alexander doesn't do it first.”

“Of course. You are my friend,” I said gently. “I've given you that power.”

~*~

I slumped against the closed door fifteen minutes later.

My magic was still tangled. I was no closer to reaching Olivia. Alexander Dare and Constantine Leandred were the bane of my existence. And Dare was right, with what he had said earlier.

I put my head in my hands and massaged my temples.

I trusted people, and then did whatever they wanted me to do. I
liked
doing things for my friends. It made me
happy.

But it wasn't necessarily conducive to good long term decision making.

I'd really enjoyed having Olivia field everything last term. Having Axer do it.

I just needed to question things a little more. And do risk assessments.

I shuddered.

And Constantine...I didn't know how to help him. He was like my magic—twisted and burned and explosive.

I shared all those thoughts with Neph as I sat in a chair in the middle of her room. Her roommate was off with her boyfriend, leaving us blessedly alone.

She tilted her head. “You do trust rather easily. But you have good instincts.” She danced in a circle around me, arms swaying, magic lighting the edges of her room and helping to shore up the wards around me that she had been placing for months. Each turn eased some of the broken bits in me. “I don't think you make those trust decisions without basis.”

I hugged her pillow to my chest and watched her dance. She swooped around me, then swooped back into view. “Do you think I can trust my own decisions?”

She twirled again, and extended a leg upward. Magic shot from her pointed toes to the ceiling wards, bouncing down in a direct line toward me. “Yes. But I suppose this is what your Mr. Dare was referencing when he said you rely on others to make decisions for you sometimes. What do you think?”

I pulled my viewer into position and set it to tune in to the three most popular feeds, then to triangulate them. Living with Bellacia had taught me a few things about news spells.

As expected, the combat mages leaving the Magiaduct were on display. An arch had been set up on top of the Magiaduct, to cleanly and quickly escort the combat mages to Top Campus. The Magiaduct would be opening ten minutes after the combat mages were through, so most of the students had queued in the ground floor common areas, shifting on both feet, waiting to be released.

I watched the combat mages file through the arch. Cheers were blaring in the background of the feed, but something told me that it was an overlaid sound. The people in view were entirely too white-lipped—their eyes only on escape from the prison of our dorm.

“I think, I need to manage some of my stress,” I said, finally, taking in all the faces shifting across the viewer. “And take back some control. What about you?”

Neph looked at me in question. “Me?”

“Will was worried. And I know you are keeping things from me,” I said as lightly as I could. There was an insistent feeling in the back of my mind that I kept
forgetting
something, in regards to this, but I couldn't remember what. “I want to help.”

“You already are.” She gracefully sat on a padded stool. “I was sanctioned officially months ago. It's a light death sentence for many muses. We rely heavily on community. When I was...released...from Sakkara, it was due to family politics. A trickle down.” She shrugged at my enraged expression. “We are influenced by our communities, and it is assumed that we are one with them.”

“That's unfair.”

“To someone used to doing her own thing, it would seem the most grievous of unfairness. Most muses are not used to being on their own.” She looked out the window, into the distance. “I was sanctioned again yesterday.”

“What? Why?”

“It matters little.” A small smile worked over her lips. “They can do little to me now that would matter to me. It's a perk of being your muse.”

“Because of the Origin Mage thing?”

“More because of
how
you are than what you are. You've given me freedom.”

I sat up straighter and pushed the news feeds closed. “What happens, if I get caught or taken? What happens to you?”

“It depends. It is one of the reasons the elders give for not becoming attached to a specific mage. Certain authorities can use a connection as an in to the community. We already have heavy restrictions placed against us.”

A knock on the door captured both of our attention, and answering it produced a harried looking mage who had two dozen long stemmed
black
roses in a hand vise—not a
vase
—held at arm’s length away from his body.

It almost looked like he was afraid of them.

No, he was definitely afraid of them—it was how people in the movies held plutonium with tongs.

“I was told to deliver these here? To Ren?” He said nervously, his gaze traveling from Neph to me. His eyes widened. “Wow, it is you. I thought—I mean, I was paid a lot—but I thought, maybe, and—”