The Protection of Ren Crown (34 page)

That I had forced her to give me a session of her time—and that she had taken me on as a student thereafter—still left the unasked and unanswered question between us: Why had she gone to such lengths to interrogate me in the first place?

Screw it. “How do you—?”

“Your stupid combination of personality traits raises its head again,” she cut over me, voice hard as steel. “Intuitive, determined, loyal, chaotic, and
reckless
. I'd advise a little less of the last, Miss Crown. Learn better as to what questions you should ask, and where to ask them.”

My gaze sought out Constantine through the series of large windows that made up the independent labs in the professors' personal territory. He was not looking our way, ignoring us in a too deliberate manner, locks of hair falling over his face, half hiding his expression. But as his gaze finally rose to meet mine through all the layers of glass, his eyes were narrowed and speculative.

Stevens, a strict and demanding professor, mentored only five students from a population of fifteen thousand. I didn't know the other three students personally, but Constantine was her prized pupil. Stevens had previously given me her spiel on the qualities that attracted her attention, and had muttered some of what she thought of Constantine and his extreme brilliance wrapped in an immensely troublesome package. Loyalty wasn't likely one of the qualities she would attribute to him, but it was well known that she had taken him on as a student almost immediately upon his entrance to Excelsine at sixteen.

Stevens was used to managing brilliant and difficult people. I twisted that thought in my head. Raphael could easily be included in the same mathematical set. How did she know him?

“May I meet with you somewhere else to speak then?” I asked, forcing my voice to be polite. “The vault, perhaps?”

Stevens raised her hands to the air in front of her, visually ignoring me again. “No. And reckless questions or those unrelated to your lab work will be met with consequences that you will not enjoy. Your request to focus solely on making paint is faulty and is denied. Systematic steps in different mediums will gain you the experience you need to progress in other mediums. The schedule is set. ”

“I'll put in extra hours.”

“No. The schedule you need to be on is set.” Her jaw clenched, as if she had said too much. “Or you can remove yourself from my lab. Understood?” Her fingers moved in the air.

I needed Stevens, and she knew it. I couldn't produce the quality of materials I needed on my own, not yet, and I didn't have independent access to the art vault and its inimitable equipment. Furthermore, Stevens was a resource I needed to keep in my corner. Even Constantine, who had a reputation for being an absolute horror in class if he found the professor “dull,” was careful never to truly alienate Stevens.

I clenched my jaw. “Understood.”

I started ripping paper with my fingers and magic, dunking the pieces in the solution that Stevens and I had created previously, and infusing each piece as I assembled them. I pressed them into something new and
mine
that would key automatically to additional magic of the same type when the magic touched the surface of the page. When one of my pencils touched this paper, the magic in both would more than double in strength.

But the problem of paint remained a blockage in my mind, and I shot thoughts in ten directions, wrapping around the unmoving rock in my mind, seeking paths and alternatives. There had to be another solution for me—one that didn't rely on Stevens or on revealing my nature to someone else—and I'd find it.

~*~

Sprinting across an entire quarter of the Ninth Circle, I arrived at Dare's meeting point in front of the Kratos Battle Building with one minute to spare. Dare stared at me, clearly unimpressed by my dashing arrival.

I bent over, hands on my knees, breathing hard. Damn mountain. I sent the Battle Building a longing glance and touched the mentor chip in my pocket. My Tuesday had been brutal already, and I still hadn't had my chat with Draeger.

My plan was to finish with Dare, then complete the game conceptualizations for Asafa and Patrick in a simulation room while visiting with my simulated mentor. I just needed to get through the next two hours.

“Hi,” I said to Dare, when I was finally capable of speech. I wiped my brow, and tried not to think about warlords and undiplomatic marriages as I cataloged his charcoal and black clothing.

Dare lifted his chin in a brief greeting. “Earlier next time.”

“I'm on time,” I said. “I still have, like, a whole twenty seconds before I'm late.”

“Earlier.”

“You got it, commander.” Wow, working resentfully alongside Stevens for two hours had made me mouthy. “I'll tell Professor Stevens that you said I have to leave ahead of time in order to be earlier for you.”

“You left there twenty minutes ago.” His highly attractive eyes narrowed. “Perhaps Stevens will draw you a map instead.”

Okay, so I
had
made a small detour to the library to blitz the fourth floor looking for a book on paint mentorship, instead of coming straight here. My mind sucked when it came to ignoring to-do tasks actively pressing against my thoughts.

“I detoured. In the future, you should probably schedule me five minutes earlier than you want me. I'm terminally on time. Early is a five letter word—which is far worse than a four.”

A brief flicker of amusement flashed on his face, but a spike of magic from the direction of the Battle Building redirected my attention to a student near the front door. A reedy boy, who looked out of place in front of a building dedicated to physical combat was scribbling something on his thigh, his gaze piercing me as he did. My heart picked up speed. He was one of the boys who orbited Bellacia Bailey and her triple-ring-wearing group—mages who hunted people like me. The ones I had taken to calling the Junior Department in my mind.

Dare narrowed his gaze on the boy, then turned and strode through the foggy barrier that separated the Midlands from the Ninth Circle. I followed quickly behind.

“Ignore them,” he said brusquely over his shoulder while navigating the fog. “Their lives hold so little interest, that in order to survive they are forced to try and absorb the spark of others.”

I didn't know how to respond to that unanticipated bit of reassurance. Warmth curled in my midsection.

We stepped into a flatland that stretched as far as my eye could see. The sky and grounds gave no indication that we were on a mountain anymore, but I was used to that with the Midlands. Nothing was normal in these levels.

I fit right in.

The familiar spark lit, having barely been extinguished from my visit a few hours past. Okai slid into view with Guard Rock welcoming me back. With a shaky wave of my hand and a push against the thread, its tile slid away. Magic was always bright and effortless in the hours after I worked with even the tiniest drop of Awakening paint.

Dare was staring hard at the space where Okai had been. Not good. Its appearance the first time we'd been here probably meant nothing to him. Appearing twice in a row in this level of chaos?

He looked at me, his expression unreadable. I flashed my most brilliant smile, one that strained my lips.

He stared at me silently for another long moment. “What did you see, when we were in here last term?”

Of all the questions I could have anticipated, that was not one of them.

I thought of the mirror shard. Seeing my reflection and knowing that I was the one who had been slowly, unwittingly destroying campus.

“I saw green mist.” Truth, just not all of it.

His gaze was even, but I could almost feel disappointment pulsing through the thread that connected us. My stomach tightened in response. A sliver of the craziness that had infected me last term did so again. I had to work harder. Raphael, the Department, leeches, protection, Olivia, Helen Price, Neph, Constantine, Dare, Origin Mages, weapons...

I had to work harder.

His eyes narrowed and the feel of his disappointment muted to something less readable. I really, really hoped he didn't possess Constantine's alarming ability to read my mind.

“I have something for you,” I blurted out.

One brow lifted, but an anticipatory tenseness gripped his body—a tension that hadn't been there before.

I pulled the new dragon and map out of my bag, and held them out to him. As they touched both of us, I transferred ownership to him.

He looked at me sharply, obviously not expecting such a transfer. His gaze shifted back to his palm as he carefully lifted the dragon, gently touching a delicate, thin, papered wing. Black lines drew on the accompanying paper, mimicking the topography of the twenty feet surrounding us.

“It's, uh, limited in range for now,” I said. “I don't know how to power one for the entire space of the Midlands and transfer it to someone else yet. I will learn, though.” I'd figure out
everything
. Of that I was certain. “But he'll—” I waved my hands at the dragon sinuously sliding along his palm and between his fingers. “He'll give you a visual snapshot of what he sees wherever he is flying.”

I busied myself, hooking my bag back over my shoulder so that I didn't have to look at Dare.

“You made this in two days?” he asked.

“I made it earlier this afternoon.” Thoughts wildly pinged against emotion in my suddenly scattered brain, and I was too nervous to be able to understand his tone. So I did what came naturally to me with Dare—I spoke quickly and without thought. “Sorry. I'll try harder next time?”

His expression was completely unreadable, so I excessively concentrated on securing my shoulder strap in the perfect position on my shoulder, one repetitive motion at a time.

“But you can send him a little ahead of you,” I said. “If you think you are walking into trouble. Or let him trail a bit behind you, if you are being followed. I mean,
it
, I guess, not he. But he can develop personality, so...”

Stop talking!

I cleared my throat. “You seem to know how to keep us together so we don't get separated in tile slides. I don't. So he will be subject to slides unless you change that. You shouldn't rely on him completely, though—not that you will anyway—but maybe, he might give you an advantage sometime? And I’m sure you will figure out how to use him your own way. He should take limited commands. Maybe you'll find him useful?”

I cringed.
Stop talking!

I wanted to pretend that I didn't wish to impress Dare. I wanted to believe that I didn't have a horribly embarrassing crush on him. I wanted to ignore the fact that even though I barely knew him, due to our initial interaction, he ranked pretty darned high on the list of people I would do anything to protect. But...well, I wasn't all that good at pretending.

Dying for him at the end of last term was a hard data point to ignore.

“Mages aren't supposed to place permanent magic in the Midlands,” he said finally,
casually
, as the dragon coiled in his palm.

Oh.
No.
Now that he said it, a visual image generated in my mind’s eye... Page fifty-four of the Midlands guide in the library, in the small diagram on the right side of the page—
“Only defensive, transparent, or temporary spells are allowed, with penalty of...”

Heat rushed up and out through my limbs, and sweat broke over my brow.

I hadn't cared last term. I had been willing to do
anything.
And I had temporarily forgotten that I couldn't afford to show what I was capable of.

“It's...small? And only works when you activate it? You can tote it in and out?” I let my shoulders drop. The four dragons he had already observed had very obviously been permanent residents. “Are you going to report me?”

He looked at me, examining my expression, then his gaze became far more charged, as he threw the dragon in the air and it caught on a breeze and swept around us. “You attract attention.”

I swallowed. I didn't know why I had lost the ability to blend into the shadows. No, that was untrue. It was because I didn't have Christian—my larger than life sibling—to hide behind anymore. Without him I was entirely too exposed.

“I am unfit for this,” I said tiredly. “I tried telling you that. You shouldn't work with someone who attracts negative attention.” There. My public service warning—a community service necessity—had been issued. He could ditch me now, and I could keep my nice long-distance crush intact and inviolate.

His tablet and Justice Toad both rang an alert.

He watched me a moment more, his gorgeous features arranged in a remote expression. Then he tapped under his ear, silently contacting someone while politely allowing me to observe the action. His finger dropped and he continued his silent assessment as I shifted on my feet. Then he smiled.

“Instead of meeting with the others to fight the rabid Pegasus that just started rampaging Six, we are going to check on something else. Come.”

That sounded dire. And Alexander Dare smiling at me? Super dire. And not going to the Sixth Circle to fight a rabid, flying horse that was destroying campus?
End of the world
dire. But I followed him into a field regardless. Wheatgrass grew taller as we walked and started winding about my legs. I could see the grass swaying against Dare's legs too, but it appeared to be caressing him instead of twining to hold.

He stopped for a moment, and the paper dragon swooped back and looped around his head before continuing its flight path. Dear lord. Made from my mind and activated by my magic, it was already fond of him. My mortification was complete.

Dare's open palm caressed the tops of the stalks that now reached his waist. The stalks twining around my legs immediately unraveled, freeing me.

Dare continued forward and I followed in his path, unsettled. I had seen his abilities here last term, but hadn't realized the true depth of
affinity
. The stalks weren't caressing and releasing me like they were him, but now they were...tasting, for lack of a better word. Testing and weighing. Sentient life in the Midlands was not always apparent on first glance.